Lucky Girl by Jamie Pacton (novels for beginners txt) 📕

and then hurt her back again, which barely slowed her down last Big Junk Dump day.

“I can give you ten minutes.” I rest my bike against a tree.

Mom lets out a cheer and clambers into the back of the truck. “You’re not going to believe what I found!” She throws down a life-size plush Siberian tiger that nearly knocks me over. “Can you believe someone threw that out?”

I can. Its white fur is now mossy green with mildew, and it’s missing both eyes. It’s the stuff of nightmares and will likely be placed in the middle of my living room.

“Totally unbelievable,” I mutter under my breath as Mom flings another pile of stuff in my direction.

Eventually, the truck bed is empty. All the stuff is in the yard, and Mom is gleefully taking armfuls into the house.

“I’m leaving,” I call out as she bangs through the screen door again and comes down the porch steps toward the yard. “We’re out of food!”

She makes a noncommittal noise and gathers more stuff in her arms. “Get back soon, Jane! We still have lots more to rescue.”

Of course we do. She’s already headed back inside before I can reply. Suddenly delighted to get away from home for a while, I hop onto my bike and peddle as fast as I can toward Bran’s family’s pumpkin farm.

INSTAGRAM POST @BRANDONKIMWI

[Picture of Bran sitting on the Kim family pumpkin farm’s giant rocking chair, grinning and holding a sign that says: LOTTO FUN FACTS!]

CAPTION: Hi lucky, wannabe lotto winners! Brandon Kim here with all your lotto questions answered! (For articles and more, check out my news site: Bran’s Lakesboro Daily. Link in my bio.)

So, here’s a lotto fact that no one’s asked about yet, but I wanted to share:

Did you know that if a minor does (somehow) buy a lotto ticket in Wisconsin, they can’t cash it, even after they turn eighteen? It’s true. (In the US, that is. If you bought a ticket in the UK, it’s totally fair game if you’re at least sixteen.) But yeah, if the lotto commission finds out you bought it as a minor, then the prize is forfeit AND both the seller and the person who bought the ticket as a minor are guilty of a misdemeanor. So, hope none of you high-schoolers under eighteen bought a ticket. Lol!

Keep those questions coming, and I’ll have more lotto updates later tonight.

#luckywinner #lottofacts #askmeanything #brandonkiminvestigates #themoreyouknow #allthelottoquestions #smalltownbigwinner

CHAPTER FIVE

AND SUDDENLY, I HAVE A NEW PROBLEM. AN ENORMOUS ONE.

An I’m-actually-a-criminal-if-I-cash-this-lotto-ticket-size problem.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I’m standing outside the Kim family pumpkin farm, holding my phone in my trembling hand.

Loud, shrill giggles from the children’s area split the evening, and there’s a bonfire going near the back of the farm, which perfumes the air with wood smoke. I take a deep breath and read Bran’s latest Instagram post again.

… if the lotto commission finds out you bought it as a minor, then the prize is forfeit AND both the seller and the person who bought the ticket as a minor are guilty of a misdemeanor.

Shit.

What am I going to do?

I can figure this out.

I think. Maybe? Possibly?

I pull my sweatshirt hood closer to my head as a brisk wind whips over me. Not far from where I’m standing, a pair of elementary-school-age kids run through the pumpkin patch, weaving around the hundreds of orange lumps within it. I envy their carefree joy. Imagine if my biggest problem tonight was deciding which pumpkin I wanted to take home?

Maybe there’s a way around this rule? A loophole or something?

I read Bran’s post a third time, biting one of my nails as I stare at the colorful pumpkin-farm sign.

“What should I do?” I say out loud.

The hand-painted pumpkins, skeletons in sunglasses, cornstalks wearing cowboy hats, and unicorns dressed as zombies on the sign are all resoundingly quiet on the issue.

I am so screwed.

How could I have missed this tiny, little MOST IMPORTANT FACT on my list of facts about the lotto? And why didn’t I do more research? I’ve known about the winning ticket for hours. You’d think I’d have stumbled over this crucial piece of information by now.

But there was so much going on at school, and I didn’t get enough time to research because Bran called me into work and then I ran into Mom, and HOLY SHIT. Am I going to jail?

Am I guilty of a misdemeanor? What does that even mean?

Further: I CAN’T BELIEVE I CAN’T CASH THIS TICKET WHEN I TURN EIGHTEEN. WHAT’S EVEN THE POINT OF TRYING?

Shit.

I don’t want to give up all this money.

I really don’t.

But what can I do?

Bran’s mom spots me lurking by the pumpkin-farm sign. She gestures at me to come on up to the barn.

I wave to her, trying to imagine what it’d be like to be a part of Bran’s family. His grandparents bought this farm years ago when they moved to the US from South Korea (they were great friends with my grandparents, and there are stories about all the parties the four of them used to throw back when Bran’s dad and my mom were growing up). Now that Bran’s grandparents have retired to Florida, Bran’s parents run the farm. His dad’s an outdoorsy guy who loves everything about farming. His mom is a part-time children’s book illustrator, and she also plays in an all-moms punk-rock band (Betty and the Killjoys, bless them). Basically, she’s the coolest mom ever. Her sense of humor is all over the pumpkin farm, including in this year’s corn-maze theme: outer space cats vs. aliens.

Yes, that means exactly what it sounds like; catstronauts in spaceships, battling aliens, are carved into the cornstalks. It’s pure genius when seen from aerial photographs.

Families come from all over the state to visit the pumpkin farm and tonight, it’s full of people. As I watch clumps of families and teenagers move through the pumpkin farm, I rack my brain for an idea of what to do with