Page 91 of With a Little Luck

I settle my elbows on my knees, fingers mindlessly fidgeting with the dice. “I’m glad you said no.”

“Jude …”

“No, I mean it. I had to try one last time. Because you’re right. I have liked you for years. And I wanted it to work out, because that would prove that this crush wasn’t so hopeless after all. But … I already knew, I think. I’ve known for weeks. We don’t have what Pru and Quint have. Or …” I pause, realizing that she’s still holding the little pewter figurine. And in that moment, something else clicks. Something I should have noticed sooner. “Or … what Grit and Starling have, for that matter.”

A short, startled laugh bursts from Maya, before she turns away, hiding her face from me. “Starling is a flirt.”234

“Maybe,” I say. “But Noah is a really good person. And I know I’ve never heard you laugh like you do when you’re around them.”

Maya tugs at one of her curls.

“Maya, you’re incredible. You know that already, but in case you haven’t heard it in a while. And I am so lucky that I got to go on a couple of really great dates with you. Ten-year-old me has been having the time of his life this past month, going out with the girl of his dreams and realizing that the real you is even, like, a thousand times more amazing. And I am always going to be the guy who was one hundred percent devoted to you for almost our entire school career.”

Maya looks at me again. “This is a pretty good speech,” she says. “You’re sort of making me regret my answer.”

I grin. “Don’t. It was the right answer.”

She nods. “I know.”

I sigh and stuff the dice into my pocket. It doesn’t warm against my skin. It doesn’t pulse lifelike in my palm. It’s the wrong dice, and it’s no help at all.

“Friends?” I ask, holding my hand toward Maya.

Her lips turn upward. But instead of shaking my hand, she leans closer and pulls me into a sideways hug. “Friends.”

235

Chapter Thirty

“No Ari today?” asks Dad.

I look up from the chapter ofThe Great Gatsbythat I’ve been struggling to get through all morning. Dad stands on the other side of the counter, going through yesterday’s mail. “Uh, no. Her mom’s got some big open house today and asked Ari to help out with it. I think she’s on champagne-and-fresh-baked-cookies duty.”

Dad barks a laugh. “Elena gives out champagne at her open houses? Just for coming to take a look?” He shakes his head and tosses a catalog into the recycling bin. “Maybe we should try that here.”

He suddenly goes still, holding a large flat package, the sort that we usually get specialty edition records sent in. “Jude, this is it,” he says. “Hand me the box cutter.”

He opens the package carefully, making sure not to damage what’s inside as he peels back the cardboard flaps.

I lean closer. On top is a letter, which Dad scans quickly, then sets aside.

Next is a certificate with a blue fancy scrollwork border. Though I’m reading upside down, I easily make out the most important text, bolded in a large font:

236The album poster and album lie underneath, barely visible beneath a layer of protective plastic.

Dad beams at me. “There you have it.”

“Amazing. Now what?”

He hands me the certificate and starts taking off the packaging. “We’ll get it framed, I guess. Hang it up somewhere.”

“Did they say how much it’s worth?”

“No, that would be a question for an appraiser, although until something is put up for sale, you never really know how much someone will pay for it. Not that it matters. I am never parting with this album.” He gets the wrapping off and grins down at the poster with Sir Paul’s signature. “Hiding in plain sight all this time. Who would have thought?” He carefully slides the poster back into the album jacket, then gathers up the plastic and cardboard packaging. “Oh, hey, before I forget. Do you think you could place our order for Record Store Day special releases today? I’ve been putting it off, but your mom and I went over the budget, and we should be good to get those ordered up.”

“That’s cutting it close, isn’t it?” I glance at the calendar. Record Store Day is in two weeks, the same weekend as junior prom.

“It isn’t ideal,” he agrees. “Hopefully we won’t need to pay for expedited shipping, but if that’s what it takes …” He shrugs. “Those special releases are a huge draw this time of year. Gotta give the people what they want.”

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