Page 99 of With a Little Luck

She’s pouting about the clay, but nods anyway. I thank her and head out of the room, back down two flights of stairs, back to my bedroom. I walk past the fallen chair and sit on the edge of my bed, clutching the plastic ball in both hands.

If I can’t rely on luck to give me the answers I’m looking for, I’ll try a different tactic.

A different kind of magic.

I’ll ask the universe.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Does Ari like me?” I ask out loud, cringing even as I say it, because,253yeah, I get how pathetic that sounds. But if we’re doing this, we’re doing this.

I give the ball a shake and hold my breath as I flip it over. My hands are leaving rust-colored fingerprints on the shiny plastic as the little triangle bobs up against the glass.

Reply hazy, try again.

“Okaaay,” I say. “I guess there are worse answers. To be more specific—does Ari like me? Like, like-like me.”

Shake, shake. Stare.

Outlook not so good.

My chest tightens.

“Are you sure?”

You may rely on it.

I scowl. Is this ball being sassy to me right now?

After a second, I ask, “Is there any hope of her liking me in the future?”

Without a doubt.

I sit up straighter. “Really?”

As I say it, the little triangle tips against the glass, to a new answer.

Very doubtful.

I deflate, pressing my brow to the cool plastic. “Jerk.” I sigh and give it another shake. “Should I ask Ari out?”

As I see it, yes.

“Oh, is that how you see it? But why—since evidently, I don’t have a chance.”

Shake.

Wait.

Better not tell you now.

“Uh-huh. Would she say yes?”

Most likely.

I press my fingers into its sides until my knuckles turn white. “Should I ignore everything you’re telling me?”

Yes definitely.

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