Page 4 of Getting Lucky Number Seven

“I figure I should start slow and work up to the big stuff. What’s a good drinking goal? I mean, I don’t really want to wake up somewhere and not know how I got there. That’s too far. But I wanna get, like,reallydrunk. See what it’s like. And I want to do something at a party that’s bold. More than just sipping from a red cup all night, but not embarrassing myself to the point I’ll never live it down.”

Beck ran a couple of fingertips along his jaw. “How about, ‘Do a keg stand?’ Gets you drunk and grabs attention. Two birds, one stone.”

2. Do a keg stand (Remember to not wear a skirt that night.)

I pointed at the item I’d just added. “I don’t wantthatmuch attention, and I’m pretty sure trying to hold down my skirt so I don’t flash everyone while trying to drink would be too much stress. Hopefully, if I do one thing at a time, I won’t have a panic attack over it.”

Two creases formed between Beck’s eyebrows, and I could see the doubt flickering across his features. I put my hand on his arm. “I want to do this. But I’m also me. Just help me figure out a happy medium. And a place to do a keg stand and get super drunk. Do you know of any parties in the near future?”

“Pretty sure we could find a number of options next Friday or Saturday.”

“Ooh, that’ll be perfect, because it gives me time to get my new edgy look in order. We’ll go shopping this week.”

“We’ll?” Beck’s lip curled. “Don’t you know? Guys don’t like shopping.”

“I think we’ve already established that I need help figuring out what guys like. That’s why you’re helping me, remember?” Which led me to decide that number three should be something bold involving a guy.

3. Go to a party and flirt with a total stranger

Beck read over my shoulder and made ahmmnoise.

“What?” I asked. “That’s wussy in college, isn’t it? It needs to be more than flirt. Oh, jeez, this is going to be tricky, because I’mreallybad at that kind of thing. My brain and my mouth get disconnected when I see hot guys and then I just sorta blink or say stupid things.”

“You’ve uh…” Beck rubbed the back of his neck. I so rarely saw him flustered that anxiety automatically tightened my stomach. He didn’t think I could pull it off. Maybe he was right, and there was no amount of help that’d turn me into a girl who could snag a guy. Miles was just a fluke—I bet he wasn’t even so much attracted to me as to my brain and my ambition. “If this is some quest to lose your virginity, I’m out, Ly. There’s too high a risk of it going badly, and then I’ll feel responsible and—”

“No.” Heat flooded my cheeks. “I dated Miles for over two years. We…you know. This ‘quest’ is about having goals that have nothing to do with grades or a future career. My relationship with Miles is a perfect example of having a nice, safe relationship but not a lot of surprises, or excitement, or…passion. Not that…” I shook my head. How’d we even get here?

Beck patted my knee. “It’s okay. I don’t need details. I just thought I should check before fully diving into this harebrained scheme of yours.”

I crossed out my original number three.

3. Go to a party and flirt with a total stranger

3. Make out with someone I don’t know (exact level of making out TBD as the kissing happens)

“Better?” I asked.

“Better,” Beck said, a crooked smile with a hint of mocking me on his lips.

“I know you think I’m being silly, but I want to know what it’s like to go out and flirt and kiss a guy without having any expectations—no steady dating, no getting serious. That way I’m open to whatever adventure awaits around the corner.” The more I thought about it, the surer I became that this was a brilliant plan. I set the notebook on the coffee table. “I’ll come up with more items later, then you can help me modify them as needed. First things first. Get your laptop so I can go online and look up hairstyles.”

“Make me some pancakes.”

I smacked Beck’s arm. “You can’t demand I make you pancakes.That’sagainst my feminist values.”

Beck swiped his hand in front of him, as if he were clearing the air of the madness I dared to put out there. “Wait? You can order me around, but I”—he touched two fingers to his chest—“can’t do it back?”

“Now you’re getting it.” I kicked off my shoes and crossed my legs on his cushy couch, spreading out my skirt so everything was covered. Now that he’d mentioned food, my stomach was starting to rumble. “Let’s order pizza.”

Beck made a face like I’d suggested eating roasted worms or something. “Not tomato and green pepper. I can sorta understand the peppers, but there’s already tomatoes in the sauce. Why order more?”

I sighed. “We’ve been over this a hundred times, and like those past hundred times, it’s because it involves different textures and seasonings, and I just like it, so I shouldn’t have to justify my choice. I don’t ask you to explain your carnivore madness.”

“Because it needs no explanation.”

“Just get it on half like we always do.”

He was already pulling out his phone, most likely getting ready to dial up our usual pizza place—I hoped anyway. Now that pizza had been mentioned, my stomach would be happy with nothing else. “But then you never eat all of your half,” he complained. “And the next day I have to pick off the disgusting tomatoes and eat it while wishing there were some meat on there.”

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