Page 127 of With a Little Luck

“Not afraid to take risks. Not afraid to put yourself out there, to go after something when you want it. But me? I’m happy being in the background. Where no one scrutinizes you or criticizes you and sure as hell no one ever rejects you.” I take in a shuddering breath, then close my mouth and swallow hard. “Maya was never going to reject me, because I was never going to give her that chance. And with Ari, it’s a thousand times worse … because I want it a thousand times more.”

Pru watches me for a long moment, taking it in. Finally, she says, “But you said you’ve tried? To tell her how you feel?”

“Yeah. I mean. Sort of. But whatever I do, things get messed up, and eventually I’m going to ruin everything. If it was a month ago, then maybe … but now everything I touch turns into goblin crap, and I can’t risk that. Not with Ari.”

“What do you mean? How were things different a month ago?”

“I wasluckythen.” At Pru’s skeptical expression, I wave my hand321through the air. “I know how this is going to sound, but … I think I’m cursed, Pru. The Curse of Lundyn Toune.”

She watches me so intently I think she’s trying to use her twin psychic powers again. But finally she says, simply, “The Wings album?”

I sigh. “No. Not exactly. There’s this temple in our campaign. The Temple of Lundyn Toune. It’s cursed, and if someone tries to break the spell but they’re not worthy, then they become cursed themselves. And …” I roll my eyes toward the ceiling. “I think I’m cursed. At first all this good stuff was happening to me. Like the concert tickets, and the coin flips in class. Remember? I was untouchable. But then I lost my lucky dice, and after that … everything just turned on me. And now it feels like I’ll never be lucky at anything ever again.”

“So … hold on,” says Pru. “What lucky dice?”

“You know, the one I found at the store. On open mic night. The same night we discovered the Paul McCartney autograph.”

“Right,” says Pru. “So the dice is from an imaginary temple that’s named after a Wings album, and it’s cursed you.”

“Look, I know how it sounds,” I say, giving her a warning look. “But you have to admit, there have been a lot of bizarre coincidences lately and—”

“No, no, I get it,” says Pru, staring at me earnestly. “McCartney album. Bizarre interventions by the universe. Random good luck turns into random bad luck. I’m with you.”

I scoff. “I’m not even sureI’mwith me.”

She smiles softly. “Well, I am.”

My bedroom door creaks open at the top of the stairs, and Ellie cries, “Pru! Quint is here!”

“Be right there,” she calls back.

I sit up and roll out my shoulders. “Go. I’m fine. Really.”

She shakes her head. “Tell me more about this temple.”

“Pru. Your date is waiting.”

“He’s fine. Curse. Temple. Go.”

I throw up my hands. “I don’t know. It’s this … temple. These ruins.322In the middle of nowhere. And there’s a statue, and if the statue decides you’re worthy of her blessing, then you’re given plus five on all skill throws until the end of the campaign.”

Pru frowns, and I wave my hand at her.

“Luck,” I clarify. “She gives you really good luck. But if you’re found unworthy, then you’re cursed.”

“How does she decide that someone is worthy?”

I chuckle wryly. “That’s the ironic thing. It’s not reallyherdecision.”

I had been so proud of this when I first came up with it, months ago when I was figuring out the rules of this campaign. The mechanics of it all had gotten a little lost in the midst of my promposal and Maya’s subsequent rejection, so I never had a chance to explain it to the group, despite how clever I’d felt.

“So there’s this stone, right? The Scarlet Diamond. And everyone thinks it’s the key to unlocking the temple’s magic. But actually—the way to get the temple’s blessing is to destroy the stone, because that shows the maiden of the temple that you don’tneedthe magic. You’re good enough just the way you are. So … by destroying the stone, you prove that you’re worthy. And therefore …”

Pru finishes for me. “Therefore, you win the magic.”

“Essentially.” I glance at the stairs. “Will Quint be—”

“He’s fine,” she says again. “He’s probably already playing Mario Kart with Penny. But just listen to yourself for a second, Jude. Or … listen to me, repeating you.” She lifts up both pointer fingers, like this will help me focus on the very important thing she’s about to say. “You don’t need the magic,” she says, enunciating each word. “You are good enough, just the way you are.”

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