Page 93 of With a Little Luck

That’s when I decided to double down. To prove my allegiance, my unerring love, for Maya. I would not be swayed. I would not give in to the way my heart fluttered a little whenever Ari came to the store. I would squash those rebellious feelings into submission, and I would never give in to them again.

So that’s what I did, to the point where I’d forgotten all about that giddy rush that swept over me every time I saw her. As her visits to the record store became more frequent, it became easier and easier to pretend I’d never felt anything at all. As the three of us became inevitable friends and started spending time together outside of the store, I started to believe that friendship was all I’d ever wanted. All I’d ever felt.

I was loyal to Maya, the girl I never expected to want me back, and it was easier to immerse myself in love unrequited than to let myself imagine something else might be possible. Something that involved risks and uncertainty and heartbreak and rejection. Something that was real.

My hands finish going through the motions of setting a new record on the player. Flipping the switch to start it spinning. Lowering the needle.

I barely hear it, though. I don’t even know what record I just grabbed off the top of the stack. I’m too lost in my own thoughts. Too struck with the most uncanny of realizations.

Okay, class. What have we learned today?240

That apparently, I am the most oblivious, lovestruck dumbass in all of Fortuna Beach.

“Where’d I put thatLondon Townrecord?”

I start and turn to look at my dad. He’s got his hands on his hips, a deep frown as he surveys the area around the counter. The computer and keyboard, the clutter of assorted merchandise, the remaining mail that needs to go back to the office, the box of records to be priced and put out for purchase. It takes a long moment for his words to register.

“Oh, it’s right—”

I freeze, my hand reaching halfway to the spot on the counter where Dad set the album with the certificate of authentication.

There’s nothing there.

“I swear it was right—” I inhale sharply. “Oh no. Oh, crap.”

Dad gives me a worried look.

“I think … I think it might have gotten mixed up with that stack of records that I just … that that woman just …”

Painful understanding flickers in my dad’s eyes. “Her credit card. We can find her name …”

I shake my head. “She paid with cash.”

Dad flinches.

We look at each other in dreadful silence for a long while, guilt clawing at my insides. It’s gone. Just like my magic dice, theLondon Townalbum with the signed poster is gone.

The Curse of Lundyn Toune strikes again.

241

Chapter Thirty-One

My dad breaks the news about the lost Paul McCartney autographwhile flipping grilled ham and cheese sandwiches in a skillet. My family is dismayed, but my dad tries to be gracious about it, skipping over the part where it’s entirely my fault.

His generosity only makes me feel worse.

“Mistakes happen,” he says, carrying the platter of sandwiches to the table, along with a roll of paper towels. “It’s not a big deal.”

After some uncertain glances, my family takes their cue from him. Agreeing, wholeheartedly. Totally not a big deal.

Except it is. It’s an even bigger deal than they realize. Further proof that my luck is backfiring on me. Further proof that I’ve been cursed.

What if it’s going to be like this forever now? Just one misfortune after another, for the rest of my pitiful life?

No—I can’t start thinking that way. There has to be a way out of this. A way to break this spell.

If only I hadn’t lost that dice.

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