Page 116 of With a Little Luck

“Are you sure?” she asks. “Because you held a solid B plus last semester, and were doing great on all the tests at the start of this unit, but these past few weeks …” She hesitates, her gaze darting toward the hallway. I follow the look, and Maya gives me an encouraging wave. Mrs. Andrews clears her throat. “It seems you might be lacking some focus.”

This is true. But I know better than to say so. “Can I do some extra credit or something?”

She sighs, disappointed that I’m not willing to dissect my problems with her.

“Fine,” she says, waving a hand through the air. “Four pages, due next Monday.”

I gulp. Record Store Day is this weekend.

But I guess that’s what I get for slacking off all semester, relying on magic to maintain my grades.

“Sure,” I say. “I can do that.”

_______________

Things don’t get better in statistics, when the worksheets that IswearI completed are nowhere to be found, and Mr. Robles has to mark me down for my fourth late assignment in two weeks. Add to that the fact that I bombed yesterday’s test, and all I want is to drown my sorrows in Doritos by the time lunch rolls around. Except Mr. Robles also keeps me after class to talk about my slipping grades, and by the time I make it to the cafeteria, the line has run out of everything but wilty-looking Caesar salad and Jell-O cups, and to add insult to injury, the stupid vending machine eats two dollars and gives up zero chips.296

“Dude, it’s broken,” Jackson yells, unapologetically and unhelpfully, as he strolls past.

I take my tray and sad, sad salad and head toward the table where Maya and the others are already half-finished with their meals, casting a forlorn look at Matt, César, and Russell as I walk past.

“Nice T-shirt,” says Katie, in that way she has of making a compliment sound like an insult.

I glance down at the shirt that Penny got me for my birthday—the Hellfire Club logo fromStranger Things, season four. I know the shirt was 60 percent off at Hot Topic when she bought it, but still, given that Penny is too young for my parents to let her watch the show and has no idea what Hellfire Club even is, I thought it was a pretty darn thoughtful gift.

But I’m not a complete idiot. I can tell Katie isn’t giving me a compliment. This is the first time in weeks I’ve shown up at school in what used to be my usual uniform—jeans, a T-shirt, my hand-painted dragon shoes, the soles of which have been shoddily repaired with my mom’s hot glue gun. I didn’t really think anyone would notice.

Obviously, I was wrong.

“Thanks?” I mutter, sliding into my spot next to Maya.

“Stranger Thingsmust be, like,” continues Katie, “a biopic for you, right?”

I blink slowly. Then—“Yeah. My friends and I have killed many demons in the Upside Down to prevent them from feeding on the clueless humans of our otherwise idyllic town.” I pause, before adding, “You’re welcome.”

“Snap,” says Raul. “I think Jude just dissed you, Katie.”

She cuts a glare to him, and I immediately look down and start stabbing the romaine on my plate and pretending that my cheeks aren’t burning.Again.

“Dissed by the wand-wielding weirdo?” says Katie. “Hard to be too offended.” Her tone is joking, but the way she says it, I can tell she’s had297that insult at the ready for a while now, even if she’s acting like it wasn’t intended to be offensive.

“Lay off,” says Maya, her tone darkening.

Katie sits back on the bench. “What? It was a joke.”

I gaze at my barely touched lunch. I would give anything to be sitting at that other table right now …

“What I don’t understand is why Jude is even still here,” says Katie, heaving a drawn-out sigh.

I whip my head back up, wishing that this question didn’t parrot my own thoughts. Countless times this week, I’ve wondered what I’m still doing at this table. Maya and I are not dating. Were never really dating, and won’t ever be dating. But going back to my old table would require … I don’t know. An explanation? An apology? It would attract attention, not just from the people at this table but from most of the junior class, and I know people would think that I was like a sad puppy slinking away with my tail between my legs after the gorgeous, popular girl rejected me … and you know what? This metaphor was broken from the beginning.

My point is—it’s easier to just keep on keeping on.

Or … it was.

And I thought … I guess I stupidly thought that I was welcome here.

“What is that supposed to mean?” asks Maya, her voice taking on an edge.

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