Page 24 of Getting Lucky Number Seven

5. Dance on a bar (Learn to sexy dance, so I don’t make a fool of myself when the bar dancing happens.)

6. Get a tattoo

I’d done three of the six in one week, which I thought was pretty adventurous of me, despite the few missteps and the fact that the making out was less pleasant than I’d hoped for. But between the sex scene in the movie and what Whitney said, I wanted to add one more thing. Seven happened to be my lucky number, too, so it seemed like fate. I also knew this one would probably take longer than a week or two to achieve, so the sooner I put it down, the more likely I’d accomplish it by finals. It’d require both being bold and pushing my fears aside—it’d pretty much be the ultimate way to fully embrace the whole college experience and leave the old Lyla behind.

Do I really want to type it in here?My computer was password protected, and putting goals where you could constantly see them helped you achieve them—it was a proven fact. So I went ahead and typed it, and it definitely looked bold sitting there on the page, the cursor blinking behind it.

7. Have mind-blowing sex

Chapter Fourteen

Beck

This week had been damn long already, and it was only Thursday. Traveling for games on a weekday nearly always messed with the rest of my schedule, but at least we’d killed Dartmouth in the game on Tuesday, and I’d managed to chat with Megan for a few minutes afterward. Apparently she’d had to put up quite a fight against being grounded to be allowed to go. Lucky for both of us, Aunt Tessa had caved when she’d claimed the game as our only family time. Or more likely, she’d caved because she knew she’d never hear the end of it.

I’d spent the last few days playing catch up, with little contact with the outside world besides classes and hockey practice. I’d nearly asked Jeff about Lyla all week, but I didn’t want to know. Not to mention it would’ve come across weird as shit.

What was even weirder, though, was that I’d met a sexy volleyball player at the campus cafeteria on Monday, and I still hadn’t texted her, despite her number sitting in my phone, just waiting to be used.

Lyla and I hadn’t talked since last Saturday night’s game, and each passing day that went by without hearing from her left me more and more on edge. Sundays were our set-aside nights, but we usually sent texts back and forth all week, and the lack of smiley faces and cat pictures from her ate at me, despite the fact that I’d been the one to purposely put space between us.

I’m just worried about her. Gotta make sure Jeff doesn’t hurt her. And that her new better-and-bolder goals don’t get too out of control.

That’s what I told myself when I texted her, anyway.

Me:How’s the party animal?

I stared at the display for a moment, about to put it in my pocket when it chimed.

Lyla:Studying like a mofo, but I need a break. Come over?

I could just imagine the way she’d say mofo—as un-gangster as possible, the words coming out with a dimpled smile.

Me:Your cat will give me hives. You come over.

Lyla:But Einstein LOVES you. Breathing’s overrated, didn’t you hear?

I was about to text “Fine,” but then my phone chimed again.

Lyla:Be there in fifteen or so :-)

Me::{)

Lyla:WTP is that?

Me, now grinning like an idiot:Me with my sexy mustache, smiling at your smiley face.

Lyla:Mustache???

Me, making sure to outdo her punctuation by one:Hurry!!!!

Lyla:Keep your pants on, dude ;)

I laughed, all the suckiness of the week melting away. It wasn’t like my life was tragic, but I realized how much having Lyla in it broke up the monotony and kept away the sad memories that liked to emerge when it was too quiet. I wasn’t going to screw it up by not talking to her, and I wasn’t going to screw it up by crossing lines. With her dating Jeff, it’d be like when she was dating Miles—I’d go back to thinking of her as a non-option, and we could go back to our easy hangouts.

…

When I opened the door, Lyla held up a bag from Tasty Burger, my favorite burger place in the city. Must’ve been why it’d taken her so long. “Full disclosure, this is a bribe. If you take it, you’re committing to help me check off one of my list items.”

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