Page 86 of With a Little Luck

I am in love with Maya. Period. End of story.

And I will prove it.

I take in a breath and turn to her, ready to make my (albeit lackluster) promposal right there and then—when the slamming of the car hood makes me jump.

“All right,” says EZ, wiping his hands down the front of his pants. “Our chariot awaits.”

I jump to my feet, heart skittering. Yeah, you’re right. I can do better than asking a girl to prom while sitting on the curb outside a gas station in the middle of nowhere.

“Jude, did you drop these?”

I turn around to see Maya holding up the scratch tickets.

“Oh! Yeah.” I check my pocket, but sure enough, it’s empty. “I got these for us. I thought, who knows? Maybe one of us will get lucky.”

It’s difficult to keep a straight face as I say it, because,hello. I’m the219guy who flipped heads fifty-seven times in a row. OfcourseI’m going to get lucky. It wouldn’t surprise me if all four of them are winners.

This time, Ari accepts Ezra’s offer to drive and we pile back into the car. Ari finds some coins in what used to be the ashtray and passes them around. EZ asks if he has to share a cut with me when he wins millions.

“Just invite me on your yacht sometime,” I tell him. For a minute, the car is filled with the quiet noise of scritch-scratching. I uncover my lucky numbers, then wait for the magic to take over. Not just to match the lucky numbers, but also to uncover a coveted shamrock that will triple the prize money.

I scratch. And I scratch—

“This one’s a dud,” says Ezra, tossing his ticket to the floor of the car.

“Mine, too,” says Maya. “Oh well.”

I swallow.

Scratch, scratch, scratch …

Ari sighs. “Nothing here.”

They all turn to watch as I scratch off my final number.

My …losing… number.

I blink.

“Well?” says Ari.

“It’s … a loser.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Then open them and blink again, rapidly this time. Waiting for the numbers to change. To rearrange themselves. To reveal how I won, because of course I won, Ialwayswin. I have the magic of Lundyn Toune on my side. I have my lucky dice.

“Dude,” says Ezra with a chuckle in his voice. He reaches into the back seat and grabs the ticket away from me. “There’s no need to take it personally.”

Feeling betrayed, I press my hand to the outside of my jeans pocket, feeling for the familiar, comforting lump of my mystical D20.

I freeze.

The world tilts and goes dark.

The air leaves me in one horrified breath.220

No. No, no,no.

I feel the other side, then reach my hands into both pockets.

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