Page 67 of Looking for Love in All the Haunted Places
“The sugar.” Lucky laughed. “She’ll come down soon.”
Rebel continued spinning and falling until she decided to sunbathe on the grass, face up with her eyes closed and arms stretched at her sides. Lucky remembered most of her life because her brain wasn’t set up to forget. She knew for a fact she’d never felt that free and happy growing up. Her decision to become ananny came from an unshakable belief that all kids deserved to experience that kind of peace. If she could give it to them, even if it was for only a few hours, then she’d done her job.
“Hey, Lucky?” Georgia’s voice was unexpectedly quiet. “Did you see something bad when you read me?”
“I thought you didn’t want to know?” Lucky sighed, busying her hands by plucking the dry grass. Having a sort-of-friend was fun while it lasted. She knew her terrible odds were bound to kick in eventually. Interpreting her readings almost always ended with her being ostracized.
“I don’t. I really don’t. Ignore me.”
Lucky glanced at her. She was covering her eyes again. “If it’s stressing you out—”
“I’m not stressed about it.”
“—don’t think about it as good or bad.” Lucky didn’t. Mostly. Sometimes, some people were objectively bad. Nothing to be done about it. That wasn’t the case with Georgia.
Maverick believed she was meant to help people. If she believed it too, how would it look? Georgia wanted to feel reassured without knowing anything about what Lucky read. There was a tenderness to her reading—rife with insecurities and burdened by doubt. She would hate feeling as if Lucky were judging her.
“How should I think about it, then? Something obviously changed.”
“Changed when?” Lucky frowned as she stared at Georgia, who didn’t answer and kept her eyes hidden.
She must’ve missed something. They’d had a good night and day, but something shifted—she quickly relived the conversation, using Georgia’s reading to sift through any subtext.
I’m sensitive.Stop insulting me.
Georgiaalwaysstated her feelings plainly. Her truths were just wrapped in a playfully dramatic protective veneer. Like when Georgia told Xander it would hurt her feelings and she’d cry if he didn’t wear the pajamas on experiment night. Hebelievedher because he knew she was being honest.
I think you want to be friends.
Georgia must’ve assumed the reading changed Lucky’s mind. “I—” She paused, a little unsure. “Reading you didn’t change anything for me. I liked who you were before, and I still like who you are now because you’re the same person. I can provide insight into who you are and maybe explain a couple things you might not understand about yourself. That’s all. Ultimately, what you choose to do with that information is up to you.”
“I don’t want to know. Don’t ever tell me.” Georgia was quiet for a moment before saying, “Thanks for giving me a choice.”
Lucky hesitated too. “Thank you for wanting to be my friend. When I said I didn’t have any earlier, that was me trying to not be presumptuous. It’s hard to leave the pity party when I’ve lived there for so long, I started paying rent.”
Georgia sat up. A delicate frown graced her features. “You’re too cute to have low self-esteem. Stop it.”
None of that was true, but she said, “I’m working on it.”
22
Night had fallen on Penny Place Amusement Park hours ago. A few minutes before midnight, the last park employee handed Georgia the keys to the main gate.
Rebel yawned, then proceeded to jump up and down.
“Time to split up,” Georgia said, handing Maverick a map.
“Why?” Lucky asked, slightly frowning.
“For the ghosts. Team B will keep them distracted so Rebel can film her night scenes safely.”
Legend had it that a couple decided to have their wedding at Penny Place because they met there as park employees. The details were fuzzy because they were fake, but somehow the couple died right after saying their vows. Now they haunted the park at night testing couples who dared to walk the wedding’s procession path. If their love was deemed worthy, they’d feel cold and get a love token from the enchanted tree stump. If not, they’d be tormented for the duration of the walk and cursed to break up in seven days.
Lucky’s palms began to sweat. “What are you talking about? There aren’t any ghosts in this park. No one died here—I checked the town records myself.”
“How did you do that?” Maverick asked.
“Most of the town’s newspaper archive have been digitized. I pretended to be a new resident, signed up for a library card online, and got access. When I didn’t find anything, I called the police department, got the contact info for the retired sheriff who would’ve handled the investigation at the time if it had happened, and told him I was a journalist working on a story about small-town urban legends. He confirmed—it’s all a lie. What?” She looked at the group, all staring at her. “I don’t go anywhere without researching the location first.”
