Page 14 of With a Little Luck

We arrive at the classroom, and I take my seat in the fourth row and try not to make a big deal out of it when Maya comes in a minute later. I pull out my sketch pad and start doodling on the edges.

I’ve had this idea lately of turning our next D&D campaign into a comic book—not to publish, but just something fun for me and the group—so I’ve been trying to get better at drawing scenery. One of my favorite things about being the Dungeon Master and creating campaigns is coming up with cool settings to explore. For our last campaign I created an entire fantasy island called the Isle of Gwendahayr, which I set up like an escape room, with puzzles upon puzzles, which the group had35to solve in order to put together the spell that would either allow them to escape or drop them into a pit of lava if they got it wrong. It was atonof work to create, and with finals coming this semester, I haven’t had time to compile something quite as elaborate for this new campaign, but I still have some ideas I’m pretty excited about.

The drawing does the trick. In the two minutes before the bell rings again, I manage to not glance up at Maya even once. That’s, like, a superhuman feat.

Mr. Singh takes roll call and has us pass up our homework assignments from the weekend before launching straight into his lecture on the Milky Way.

“This should sound familiar from your reading assignment,” he says, jotting a few notes on the board. I’m distracted, though, and my notebook page is quickly filling up, not with notes, but with a dense forest, a crumbling wall, an imposing door covered in runes.

“Jude?”

My head snaps up. “Yeah?”

Mr. Singh’s smile is tight. He knows I wasn’t paying attention. “Could you tell the class what Andromeda is? It was in your reading from the weekend.”

Heat rushes up my neck. My ears start to burn. My heart thumps faster. This happens every time I’m called on to speak in class, whether I know the answer or not.

And this time, I definitely do not. I meant to finish the reading after open mic night, but in all the excitement at the store, I completely forgot.

I can feel Prudence in the seat behind me, doing her best to telepathically send me the answer. Sometimes that twin psychic thing works for us, but right now, I am not picking up any signals.

Andromeda.Andromeda.All I can think of is that Gene Roddenberry space opera that Matt, César, and I binge-watched over a three-week period during our freshman year.

But then, that name does ring a bell.

Andromeda.36

Lucy’s podcast. Wasn’t the host saying something about Andromeda? Whatwasit?

Mr. Singh frowns. “Can anyone else tell us—”

“It’s another galaxy,” I blurt out. “One that’s on a direct collision course with the Milky Way. Scientists estimate that the two galaxies will crash into each other in about five billion years.”

Mr. Singh stills. The moment is brief, this shock passing over his face. I don’t blame him. I’m not sure I’ve ever voluntarily said so many words in his class at one time.

I’m a little shocked myself.

“That’s right,” says Mr. Singh. “Very good. Lucky for us, five billion years is a long time away, so we don’t have to be too concerned with the inevitable destruction of the world.”

He moves on with his lecture, and I exhale in relief. Pru reaches forward and gives my shoulder a congratulatory shove from behind.

For just a second, I even catch Maya’s eye. A small smile before she turns away. A dip of eyelashes that almost certainly means nothing, nothing at all.

_______________

My pride lasts until next period, when Mrs. Andrews announces that we’re having a pop quiz on the chapters ofThe Great Gatsbywe were supposed to read over the weekend. I groan with the rest of the class. Pru shoots me a look, and only now do I remember that moment on Saturday when she reminded me about the extra chapters Mrs. Andrews added to our weekend reading.

“Relax,” says Mrs. Andrews, handing out the tests. “It’s multiple choice, so statistically speaking, most of you stand a chance of not failing.”

I think she’s joking, but no one laughs.

The test lands on my desk, and I click the lead down in my mechanical pencil. I start to read the questions, and …

Oh, crap. I don’t know any of this.37

Out of the corner of my eye, I can hear Pru’s pencil scratching against the paper, circling answers with confidence.

Shaking my head, I get started. I do my best to make educated guesses based on what I’ve read so far. I’m one of the first to finish, but I don’t want to be the only one standing up, so I pretend to be going over my answers until a handful of kids get up to turn their tests in. I avoid meeting our teacher’s eye as I hand in my test then slink back to my seat.

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