Page 103 of Good Losers (Lochkelvin Academy)

“But it isn’t anymore. And someone who talks the way you do… well, it’s not natural, is all I’m saying.”

His eyes narrow at me. “And what are you suggesting? You have a scheming look about you.” He turns his head around to glare sharply in Finlay’s direction. “Something I recognize entirely from Fin.”

“I can come up with my own schemes, thanks,” I tell Luke sweetly. “And the word’sbetcha. Bet. Cha. Now say it.”

Luke seems dumbfounded by this request.

“Say it.”

While Finlay stifles his laughter in the background, Luke takes a deep, calming breath. “No. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Talking like a normal person makes you uncomfortable? C’mon—” and at this, Luke flinches. “We need to get this taken care of.”

There’s a long silence, stretched out by the repeated opening and closing of Luke’s lips. Eventually, and in the softest tone I’ve heard from him, he mutters, “Bet. Cha.”

“Good,” I say, smiling at him. “And all together.”

He narrows his gaze at me, and I can feel the seething intensity as his tongue wraps around the word. It’s ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous, but giving Luke a taste of his own medicine entertains me more than I can say (rhotically, with clear diction).

“Betcha,” Luke says, forcefully and all at once.

I grin at him. “Now use it in a sentence.”

Luke’s expression turns ponderous, and he takes a moment to think. “IbetchaI can make you a more confident, articulate speaker by the end of summer.”

It’s a pretty huge bet and I’m positive he’s going to lose it. “I’ll take that bet,” I say with a smirk. “And in return, you’ll be talking like a normal, average person by the end of summer. I betcha, Lucas Milton. Ibetcha.”

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