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

the fedora phase (thank goodness), but I’ve been saving up jokes for months. They will have to come out eventually.

“I’d expect nothing less,” says Bran. He adjusts his jacket and stands up taller. “But seriously, how do I look?”

“Minus the fedora?”

“Oh my God, you’re such an ass,” says Bran affectionately. He shoves me slightly, and I push him back, which draws a glare from a pair of moms pulling some toddlers in little red wagons.

“I’m just kidding,” I say. “You look truly dashing and news ready. So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

Bran shrugs. “I’m just going to play it by ear. See what their questions are. But I think I’ve figured out how to find the lucky winner.”

And just like that, my stomach plummets like a pumpkin shot out of the pumpkin-chuckin’ cannon.

It’s one thing for Bran to be offering random lotto tidbits on his website and social media. It’s another for him to be investigating it himself.

For a moment I want to just blurt out my secret and tell Bran I’m the one everyone is looking for. But with this new complication of not being able to cash in the ticket and perhaps being guilty of a misdemeanor, I need time to think before I tell anyone anything.

“Abraham Shakespeare,” I whisper under my breath.

“What?” asks Bran.

“Just reminding myself of something,” I say. And that’s exactly it. Abraham Shakespeare was generous with his money. He told everyone about it. And he ended up buried under a concrete slab for his kindness.

Not that I think anyone in town will do me harm, but a lot of money makes a lot of people do strange things. Even in a town as seemingly wholesome as mine.

“So, how are you going to find the lucky winner?” I casually ask Bran as we walk toward the news van. There’s already a crowd of people there, making a semicircle around the reporter.

“You’ll see,” says Bran. “You want to be interviewed with me?” I shake my head. “Uh-uh. Nope. No way. I’m terrible on camera. You know this.”

“Jane, just because you’re the queen of bad selfies doesn’t mean you can’t be on the news with me for ten seconds.”

“My selfies aren’t that bad, but there’s absolutely no reason for me to be on camera with you. I’ll be standing to the side cheering you on.”

Plus, if I’m on camera, I might accidentally blurt out something about being the lotto winner.

“Okay. That works for me. Let’s go.”

Before I can say anything else, Bran’s mom walks up to us. She’s a fortysomething Korean woman who looks just like Bran. Tonight, her long black hair is pulled back into a stylish bun, but she’s also wearing a Betty and the Killjoys T-shirt, so her tattoos are visible.

“There you are, Jane!” she says in a frazzled voice. She has a bag of kettle corn in one hand and a mug of cider in the other. “Thanks for coming in tonight. I’ll need you in the gift shop eventually, but can you work the snack bar for half an hour while I sneak off for my dinner?”

“I definitely can,” I say. “But I promised Bran I’d be moral support while he’s interviewed. So give me like ten minutes?”

Quickly, Bran explains to his mom about the news van, how they’re going to interview him, and how that will help with his internship.

“Are you sure Jane needs to be there?” asks Mrs. Kim.

“I really do,” I say to her. “But it’ll be quick.”

Besides being moral support, I have some vague idea that me being there will keep Bran from getting too close to my secret.

Mrs. Kim takes a sip of her cider. “Fine, fine. Both of you just meet me at the snack bar when you’re done. And, Bran, good luck.” She straightens his fedora, which is both endearing and somehow so perfectly momish. Could I love either of these two humans more?

Bran grins excitedly, like he’s about to go to a birthday party. This boy was made to be in front of a camera.

“I think I have a mom crush on your mother,” I say as she walks away. “Want to trade?”

Bran rolls his eyes. “She’s amazing, I know. We’ve been over this. But c’mon. They’re about to get started.” He strides away toward the news van, practically skipping.

I DON’T KNOW HOW HE’S DONE IT, BUT SOMEHOW IN THE THREE seconds it takes me to jog after him, Bran’s already chatting with the reporter. He has a megawatt smile on his face, and she’s laughing at something he’s saying. He’s so good at talking to people and being charismatic. Not for the first time, I wonder what he sees in me, a girl who would much rather spend her days alone on the ocean studying marine animals than doing anything even remotely cool.

“Ahhh, and this is my best friend, Jane Belleweather,” says Bran as I walk up.

“Let’s get rolling,” says the reporter after a quick nod in my direction. She fluffs her hair once, and I step out of the way so I’m out of the shot. A light flicks on from the cameraman’s camera. He counts down, three … two … one, and then waves a hand.

“Hello,” says the reporter in a cheerfully enthusiastic voice. “I’m Molly Rawlings, and this is WGN14 news. Tonight I travel to Lakesboro, a small town outside of Madison, where the winning Mega-Wins ticket was sold yesterday. As of five minutes ago, no one has come forward to claim the prize. I’m here at the Kim family pumpkin farm to talk with local residents to see what they think of this stroke of good luck and ask if they have any idea who the lucky winner is. First up, we’ll talk to local teenager Brandon Kim.”

Sweat beads my forehead, and I’m sure I look like a corpse who’s been playing in a sprinkler. I hate that everyone is talking about this, and I hate that I haven’t told Bran my secret, and frankly, I just