Page 57 of With a Little Luck

And yet, for every time I roll to determine initiative or the strength of one of the NPCs or see how well-concealed various traps and treasures are as the characters do their perception checks, the number comes up the same.

Twenty.

Twenty.

Twenty.

The others start giving me strange looks. We’ve played together enough, excepting Maya, that I’m pretty sure no one thinks I’m cheating, because what reason do I have to cheat? Things are more interesting when some treasures got discovered. And it is definitely more fun when the players stand a fighting chance against any opponents I throw at them.

I become grateful for my privacy screen, which prevents the players from seeing my rolls. I start to lie—rolling the dice, seeing that same twenty glinting up at me, and just pretending that I rolled some other random number instead. Seven. Sixteen. Two. It doesn’t really matter. The game continues. My lucky streak continues. But tonight, it doesn’t feel lucky. It just feels … annoying.

It’s almost ten o’clock by the time we call it a night.

“I can’t wait to hear this epic ballad,” Kyle says as he packs up his books and character pages.

“Ballad?” I ask.

“The bard promised us a song,” he says. “When we break the curse. So when this campaign is over, you’re going to owe us a song, Dungeon Master.”

I chuckle. “Right. Luckily, I might know of a real-life bard who can help with that.”

They all stow away their handbooks and dice and figurines, smiling and laughing as they replay some highlights from the night. I’m somewhat astounded to see that Maya is acting every bit a part of the group.149Like she’s been playing with us for years. Somehow, she and Noah get on a friendly rant about favorite K-dramas, which leads to them exchanging phone numbers and making plans to get together and rewatch some favorites.

Maya lingers behind after the others have gone, insisting that she wants to help clean up, especially since she—no, sinceGrithad gone a little overboard with that popcorn. There isn’t much to do, though, and we mostly work in silence. She carries up the empty bowls to the kitchen sink, while I disassemble the card tables and take them out to the garage.

“This was really fun,” says Maya, folding the tablecloth.

“Yeah, it was,” I agree. “You fit in really well.” Which is true. Tonight wasgreat, actually. There were times when I forgot that the prettiest girl in school was sitting at the table. For a while, I stopped being nervous. I stopped being self-conscious. I stopped being anything but the Dungeon Master, and it felt just like hanging out with my closest friends. Just like normal.

It had been great.

But it hadn’t beenromantic.

I scratch the back of my neck. “Do you want to … stay awhile? We could watch a movie or something?”

Her look turns apologetic. “Thanks, but I should get home.”

“Right. It’s late. Um … I’ll walk you out.”

We head upstairs and out to the driveway.

“I’ll see you at school on Monday,” Maya says, pressing the unlock button on her key fob. The headlights blink.

“Yeah. Definitely.”

As Maya is reaching for the car handle, I gather my nerve. “Maya?”

The next few moments are a comedy of errors. Maya swings open the door as I lean forward, and the corner of the door smacks into my chest so hard it actually knocks the wind from me. I stumble back, stunned.

“Oh!” Maya cries out. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” I say, rubbing my chest and trying to bury the pain. It doesn’t hurtsobad, I tell myself. It’s more a pride thing, really.150

And also, confusion.

What the heck, Luck?

Maya looks horrified at first, and then … suspicious. “Were you going to …”

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