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

Feeling just a touch dramatic, I send Bran a text and the picture of the car:

It’s 6:45 a.m. and I’m on the road into town. This car is stopping. If you don’t see me at school, you know who has killed me. Avenge me.

All joking aside, my pulse pounds as the driver’s-side window of the Civic rolls down and the music stops. I step back, far enough away so the driver can’t grab me. I can’t see them through the tinted front window.

“Jane?” a familiar voice calls.

I step up to the window. Sure enough, it’s Holden. Goddammit.

“What are you doing out here? You scared me to death and nearly killed me!”

“Sorry about that,” Holden says with a rueful smile. “Didn’t expect to see anyone out this way so early.”

“Did you get a new car?”

When we were dating, he still drove his dad’s old truck. He raises his sunglasses, and his blue eyes catch some of the morning light.

“Senior-year present to myself. It’s not a Ferrari—yet. Wait until I make my first million.”

Holden laughs confidently, like he’s absolutely certain the universe will let him make those millions. I guess it wouldn’t be fair to say he totally changed after his ridiculous Wolf of Wall Street camp. He always did want a Ferrari, for example. But he was also still the guy who’d wade into creeks with me and pick up trash for Ecology Club. These days, I have no idea if any part of that guy is left.

I give a weak laugh along with him. “How’d you get the car?”

“I’ve been investing my savings for a few years now, and some of it really paid off. I had enough to get this car and still keep a bunch of money in my funds.”

“That’s great,” I say. Two days ago, I couldn’t ever imagine having enough money to buy a car, but I guess I could do that now. If I can get this ticket cashed. “Where are you going this morning?”

Holden smiles at me. That stupid half smile that makes my insides melt. “To get coffee at Starbucks. What are you doing out here?”

“Trying to get run over by fools who drive too fast.”

Holden snorts. “Want to get coffee with me?”

I kind of really do. But that would mean spending time with Holden, which is something I’ve been firmly avoiding since the breakup.

I hold up my travel mug. “I’m covered. See you at school.” I start walking toward town.

“Hey, Jane, wait!” Holden calls out. He’s out of his car and striding toward me. “Let me at least give you a ride to school. You’re going to get run over out here, for real.”

He looks like he wants to say more, but that’s a privilege he lost when he dumped me.

“I’m fine,” I say, waving a hand dismissively.

“C’mon. For old time’s sake. Plus, we can go over our plan for the Ecology Club field trip today.”

I stop walking and spin around. “What are you talking about?”

Holden flashes that smirky-smoldery smile of his, and I want to dump my travel mug of coffee on him. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t.”

I totally did. Despite the fact that Mrs. Davis reminded me about it before yesterday’s Ecology Club meeting. But now I remember. With all my worrying about the lotto ticket plus work last night, and then my exhaustion from BJD day, I completely spaced on the fact that the Ecology Club is taking a class of third graders on a field trip to the Aquarium Oasis fish store in Madison today. We’d gotten the whole day off classes after first period and everything. I’d also forgotten that Holden and I are the high-school guides. Me because the field trip had been my idea, and Holden because his sister is part of the third-grade class we’re taking.

“Fine,” I say, stomping back to his car. “You can give me a ride to school.”

“Thank you for allowing me this honor,” he says, making a small bow. “But first, I’m buying you a Starbucks drink. I know it’s better than that swill your mom keeps at home.”

He’s not wrong, and as I slip into the passenger seat, I have to smile a bit. Fine. Okay. Holden is still a little bit charming.

CHAPTER EIGHT

BRAN TEXTS ME ONCE WE’RE HEADED BACK FROM THE STARBUCKS IN the next town over.

BRAN: JANE! Are you dead? Reply before I call in the National Guard.

JANE: lol. I’m fine. Sorry to panic you. It was actually Holden in the car this morning. We got coffee.

BRAN: … Jane. No. Tell me you didn’t hang out with him.

JANE: It’s fine. I swear. See you in class.

Bran tries to corner me in first period, but I just hand him a Starbucks chai (bought by me, not Holden) and flash him a smile as I plop into the desk in front of his.

Our English teacher starts in about Shakespeare, and Bran sends a note onto my desk. I unfold the small square of paper.

DON’T YOU DARE EVEN THINK ABOUT FALLING FOR HOLDEN AGAIN.

I roll my eyes and take a sip of my vanilla latte. I throw the note back with a quick: Don’t worry, he’s still the worst.

Bran’s reply is quick: Fine. But if you start to not hate him again, text me. I’ll remind you why he’s awful.

But is he really?

Yes. Of course he is. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t missed him just a little bit. And this morning, laughing with him in his car, it felt almost like normal again.

Clearly being a possible millionaire-in-the-making is messing with my judgment. I spend the rest of English class remembering all the things I hate about Holden.

HATING HOLDEN IS WHAT’S STILL ON MY MIND AS WE DRIVE TO THE Aquarium Oasis. I was going to ride the bus with the third graders, but Holden offered me a ride, and I have to admit his company was decidedly more appealing than a bus full of thirty screaming eight-year-olds.

Still, even as he’s popping on a playlist