Page 42 of With a Little Luck

“Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”

Pru pulls her backpack onto her shoulders. “I’m just saying. We would understand if you made other plans.”

With Maya, I realize she’s suggesting.

“No,” I say, as we step into the school courtyard. “No other plans.”

And then:weirdness.

I sense it immediately. The way some sophomores fall quiet as we pass by. The way Bristol Eastman looks up from the book she’s reading to give me an appreciative once-over.

“Sheeeeesh,” someone says appreciatively, and I’m pretty sure they’re talking about me.

“What is happening?” I whisper to Pru.

“You took out one of the most popular girls in school, and everyone knows about it,” she answers. “And now you show up looking like you actually put some thought into your clothes for the first time ever, and people are noticing.” She pauses, before adding, “I told you so.”

“Oh god.” I keep my eyes on the ground as we head toward our bench, where Quint and Ezra are joking about something. “I just wantedMayato notice, noteveryone.”

“Jude, look at me.”

We stop walking, and I turn to meet Pru’s serious expression. “I don’t108care if you’re wearing Superman pajamas or a three-piece tuxedo. You are my brother, and you are incredible, and it’s okay to be noticed once in a while. It’s okay to … want things for yourself. Like, for girls to check you out. And for people to get to know you. And for the girl you’ve liked forforeverto finally notice you. You deserve all of that.”

I stare at her, making sure she’s done with her sisterly encouragement, before I say, “I haven’t owned Superman pajamas since I was ten.”

“Yo! Prudence! Jude!” says Ezra. He’s sitting on the back of the bench, waving a handful of cash at us.

“Now what is he up to?” Pru mutters.

“You got five bucks? Ten?” asks Ezra as we make our way over. “What can I put you down for?”

“What are you talking about?” asks Pru.

“Word has it that Principal Jenkins just announced an early retirement, so I’m taking bets on the reason behind it. So far the general consensus is a midlife crisis exacerbated by too many years surrounded by hormonal adolescents. But there’s also a strong contingency of people who think she’s involved in some sort of scandal—possibly drug and/or sex-tape related.”

“Seriously?” mutters Quint.

Ezra smirks. “You think you know people, right? I’ve also had two guesses that she’s quitting so she can run for public office next year, and one guess that she’s joining a hippie commune outside of San Francisco. So.” He looks at me. “What do you got?”

“How should I know why Mrs. Jenkins is retiring?”

He rolls his eyes. “No one knows. That’s the whole point. If you get it right, you get a wad of cold hard cash. If no one gets it right, then you get your money back. Minus my small bookkeeping fee. Obvs.”

I shrug, tucking my hands into my pockets. “I don’t know.” I definitely can’t see our principal doing anything scandalous. A midlife crisis? Maybe? “Maybe she’s decided to pursue her lifelong dream of writing the next Great American Novel.” In my pocket, the dice seems suddenly cold against my fingers. I frown, hesitating. Then I add, “No—scratch that.109She’s gonna write romances.” The dice warms slightly. “About pirates, probably.”

There it is again, that weird pulse.

“Nice,” says Ezra, writing it down. “I’m giving you real low odds, but points for originality. That’ll be five bucks to play.”

“And you didn’t want to take statistics this year,” says Quint as I shrug and pull out my wallet.

“Missed opportunity,” says Pru. “That class is really just a front to teach us all illegal gambling.”

“It’s only illegal if you get caught,” says Ezra.

“That’s not actually true,” says Pru.

“How about you, Prudence?” Ezra goes on, taking my money. “What can I put you down for?”

---