Page 28 of With a Little Luck

My big date.The words hit me with a jolt of euphoria.

I am going on a date with Maya.

Of course, the reminder also brings a strong undercurrent of panic, because …

I am going on a date with Maya.

“We’ll make it work,” I tell Ari. “We can record after school on Friday, then edit it over the weekend and submit it on Sunday,hoursbefore the deadline.”

“Okay. Let’s make it happen!” She squeals and claps her hands to her cheeks. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I’m going to do this! What if … No. I can’t think about it. I’ll just freak myself out.”

“Believe me, I know the feeling.”

The door opens, and Pru and Quint come in, Ezra slouching in behind them.

Ezra’s face lights up like a pinball machine when he sees me. “There he is!” he howls, spreading his arms wide as he makes his way down the store’s center aisle. “The man of the hour. I’ve heard the stories, but I’m still not sure I believe it. Asking out Maya Livingstone in the middle of class like that?Damn, that isbold. Give me some of that rizz, my dude.”

He holds his hand out, which I slap, lamely. Undeterred, Ezra takes his hands and pretends to smear my “rizz” all over his chest. “Yeah, I was needing some of that!Speaking of …”He swivels toward Ari and wraps an arm around her shoulders. “Escalante, I heard you killed it at open mic night. You just say the word when you need me to come in and hold back the mob of screaming fans.”

Ari rolls her eyes, though there’s a hint of a blush rising in her cheeks.77

I loudly clear my throat. “Ari has news.”

Ari flashes me a grateful smile, then tells everyone what she told me about the music festival and songwriting competition. As expected, Pru, Quint, and even Ezra are immediately on board to help film her video.

“We could do it here,” says Quint. “In front of the mural Jude painted for open mic night. It would make a cool background, if we framed it just right.” Then he does that thing that photographers do, where they make a pretend lens with their thumbs and forefingers, peering through the frame to see how it would look on film.

“Really? I don’t want to be in the way …”

“You won’t be in the way,” says Pru.

“I agree,” I say. “If the acoustics work?”

“I’d use a mic,” says Ari, peering at the mural. “Channel the sound directly into the software. I mean … yeah. It could work.”

“Plus, if you win,” says Pru, “it would be free publicity for the store.”

“I’m probably not going to win. There could be thousands of entries.”

“But there’s only one Araceli the Magnificent,” I say.And maybe my luck will rub off on you, I think, but know better than to say it out loud.

Ezra folds his arms. “Can I be in the video? I could be a backup dancer. And I play a mean tambourine.” His eyes light up. “Oh, you should make that into a song! ‘Mean Tambourine’! There’s your hit single right there. Write that down.”

Ari nods at him earnestly. “I will get right on that.”

78

Chapter Ten

I check the time on my phone. I still have twenty-seven minutesbefore the limo is supposed to arrive. How can twenty-seven minutes seem like an eternity, and also like no time at all? It’s like I’ve been stuck in a time warp all day, time speeding so that thirty minutes passes in a blink, then slowing down so that two hours go by in a snail’s crawl.

And all the while, a ticking clock in my mind.

When I woke up: T minus twelve hours until my date with Maya.

Heading to first period: T minus ten hours and forty minutes until my date with Maya.

Breaking for lunch: T minus seven hours and thirty minutes …

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