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

Nope, nope, nope, nope.

Bad choices all around.

I finish my sandwich, and then before we can talk about anything else, Mom walks up the street, carrying a severed head.

Okay. So it’s not a real head.

It’s the kind of bald mannequin head women put wigs on. But it’s creepy AF, with its peeling-paint eyes and arched eyebrows. Mom plops it onto the table, like it’s a fourth member of our party. Grandma and I share a look.

“Can you believe this was just being thrown away?” Mom exclaims as she sits down. “They gave it to me at the estate sale. Said the owner had it for sixty years and her mother gave it to her. Imagine the stories! This is where women kept the hair they wore on first dates, to weddings, to parties …” She trails off with a dreamy expression on her face.

“It’s a disturbing plastic head, Mom,” I say, wishing I could shove it under the table. Or better yet, into the trash. I scoot my sandwich far away from it.

“It’s history, Fortuna Jane,” says Grandma with a quick wink at me. Her voice is gentle, and I know she’s trying to be kind to Mom, but it isn’t really helping. “I’m glad you found it, sweetie. Can I get you some lunch?”

Mom pulls a pile of costume jewelry out of her bag and arranges it on the table. Pink, blue, yellow, and green paste gems sparkle in the sunlight from giant gaudy necklaces and earrings. “No need; I’m not hungry. But let me show you what else I managed to save.”

Grandma and I share another look, and then we let Mom tell us about each brooch, pin, and photo she “rescued” from the estate sale.

As she talks, I watch kite surfers skim over the surface of Lake Monona, carried on the wind like leaves. From here, they look free and fearless, moving across the water with nothing holding them back. I yearn to trade places with them.

LAKESBORO COMMUNITY FACEBOOK GROUP SUNDAY, 9:00 P.M.

NEW POST BY AMY PEMBERLY: Well, folks, it looks like no one is coming forward as the winner of this ticket. Maybe they are out of state? Or maybe somebody is afraid? Just thought I’d start this thread as a place for us to talk about what we’d do if we had won. So, tell us: What would you do with the money?

MEGAN WILLIAMS: I’ll go first. If I’d won the $58 million, I’d build a rec center in town for kids. It’d have gymnastics, a place for parents to hang out, and lots of fun activities.

AMY PEMBERLY: This is a great idea! Definitely would take my kids there!

LISA HAWKINS: ESPECIALLY IN THE WINTER! [20 more comments]

KANDI TAYLOR: I love that idea of building something for the community, but I have to say I’d use the money to pay off all my school-loan debt and my mom’s medical bills. Then, byyyee! I’d move to the tropics.

AMY PEMBERLY: Absolutely. Wouldn’t it be amazing if the lotto winner did something like pay off all our medical bills?

J. WILKINS: Keep dreaming. That person doesn’t even have the courage to come forward. Why should they do something good for the community when they’re now RICH? [78 more comments]

JOHN SANDERS: I’d use the money to create some sort of barrier that kept the smell from the chicken farms out of town. Good grief, it’s bad tonight.

J. WILKINS: That’s the smell of country life. Love it or leave.

MARGO LEWIS: Back to what we’d do with the money: If any of you are feeling generous, my four-year-old just got back from his first cancer treatment, and we don’t have insurance. We have a GoFundMe. Or you could just send him a message here. I’ll read them to him. Thanks!

TOM HOFFMAN: Speaking of GoFundMe pages, my best friend is a single mom and about to lose her house. She could really use some help. Here’s the link.

AMY PEMBERLY: Hope the lotto winner sees this so they can help.

J. WILKINS: Fat chance. I tell you, that person is sitting on the money like Scrooge McDuck so they can keep it for themselves.

MARY FULTON: Sadly, I bet you’re right. [58 more comments]

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

WHEN I PULL MY BIKE INTO SCHOOL ON MONDAY MORNING, A BUNCH of kids from my senior class are already loaded into a school bus. We’re going to the House on the Rock, and I’m later than usual because I overslept.

“Jane!” Holden shouts, leaning out the window. “C’mon. I saved you a seat.”

I take off my headphones and wave to him. We haven’t talked since Saturday night, a.k.a. that night we kissed on the lake and then again in the parking lot. Although I’ve been tempted to text him about fifty-eight million times.

Bran is already on the bus, but the seat next to him is taken. “I’m sorry,” he says as I pass. “I tried to save you a seat.”

“No worries,” I say, squeezing his shoulder as I pass. “I’ll survive.”

The rest of the bus is full, so I slide into the seat next to Holden. It’s only when I do that I realize I’m wearing the sweatshirt he gave me. Like a total creep. But, in my defense, it was on the floor near my bed, and it’s Monday.

Sigh.

“Hi,” he says, in a low voice that tugs at something deep in my belly. “I had fun on Saturday.” His hand snakes around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

I shrug out of the embrace because we can’t do that in public yet, can we? We’re not dating. We’re barely even hanging out. What does any of this with him even mean?

“I had fun too,” I whisper. “Minus the getting caught in a flash-flood part.”

Holden laughs and takes two granola bars out of his bag. “Breakfast?”

“That’s surprisingly thoughtful of you,” I say, taking one.

Bran looks back at me from a few seats up, glaring at Holden. I shrug and open the granola bar.

Our history teacher gets on the