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

great spot to lob things at the other people still stuck in the maze.

“Not it!” Bran and I call out at the same time.

At night, the corn maze is also full of “Halloween haunt” actors who are paid to jump out and frighten folks. I scare easily and suspense kills me (I can’t even resist the temptation to peek at the endings of most books, so forget horror movies or thrillers). My one-time maze walk-through at the start of the season was more than enough for me.

“You’ll both go,” Bran’s mom decides.

“But who’ll watch the café?” Bran asks.

“Me,” his mom says. “I need those guys out of there before the hayride gets back so the families can go through the maze without getting drenched.”

“Fine.” Bran stands up.

“We’ll take care of it, Mrs. K,” I say as we head out the door.

She gives me a tired wave and doesn’t look up from her phone.

OUTSIDE, IT’S A BEAUTIFUL OCTOBER NIGHT. THE LAST RAYS OF SUNSET paint the sky peach, and the charcoal-stroke outlines of tree branches make the world look like a stained-glass window. A line of geese fly across the horizon, and the moon rises, a pale fingernail in the east. I love nights like this. As Bran and I head into the maze, we can hear shouts and the splat of water balloons from somewhere ahead of us.

“I hate assholes like this,” Bran says. The corn rustles, and I’m praying none of the haunt performers jump out. I will absolutely scream if that happens.

“Hard same,” I say as we turn a corner. “What does your mom think we can do? Confiscate their water balloons?”

Bran shrugs. “I guess. If nothing else, we can take their pictures and get them banned for the season.”

Against my every instinct, I propose Bran and I go in separate directions when we reach a fork in the maze.

Splitting up means I don’t have someone to grab if a creepy haunt actor does jump out at me, but it also means we might get back to the café faster.

“I’ll go left, you go right,” Bran says. I wave to him as I stride off down the path.

I walk for a few minutes, trying not to think about the lengthening shadows and how chilly it’s getting as the sun goes down. The stupid platform should be around here somewhere, but I think I took a wrong turn or something. Voices behind me make me freeze in place. What if it’s one of the actors in a serial-killer mask (or worse! A real killer, who could TOTALLY hide in a place like this)? Panicking, I dive into the corn, getting whacked in the face as I settle in among the stalks. I’m not even sure this is good cover, since it’s like being in a forest of sticks. Surely the darkness can hide me, though. Maybe? The voices grow louder as the approaching figures move closer to my hiding spot.

Two people come around the bend in the maze, and I separate the cornstalks so I can see them.

Ahhhh. So, good news: It’s not a serial killer, but possibly worse, it is Holden and Banks.

Should I clamber out of the corn and say hi all casual, like, “Sure, yes, I’m hanging out in the cornstalks, what are you up to?” Would that be the weirdest thing ever? Or should I stay put?

Too late. They’re beside my hiding spot before I can decide. Their conversation floats toward me.

“So, you’re hanging out more with Jane?” asks Banks. “I thought you two broke up.” He holds a bucket full of water balloons, because of course he and Holden are part of the jackassery Bran and I are trying to stop. They probably went to replenish their supplies. I really should step out of the corn and demand the balloons, but I’m frozen in place by hearing my own name.

Holden laughs. “It’s complicated. We’ve been doing a few things lately, if you know what I mean.”

Banks gives a knowing laugh that makes me want to punch him.

They keep walking, and I have to scramble to keep up so I can hear them. Luckily, the wind is blowing so my crunching through the cornstalks isn’t too obvious. I hope.

“Are you trying to get back together with her?” asks Banks. An excellent question.

“Don’t know,” says Holden. “Really, I’m just taking it a day at a time. I’m super interested in the investigation she’s doing with Bran. So, you know, I thought I’d get closer to her. See what she knows.”

Holden’s words carve out my insides.

He’s hanging out with me to find out more about the investigation?

I can’t help but think back to Monday at the House on the Rock. Was he just playing me to find out more about the investigation? But he hadn’t even asked much about the lotto winner then. So, maybe he does still like me a little bit after all?

Not that I even care, but …

Ugh. This stupid, confusing boy.

I definitely hate him.

I’m definitely over him.

Totally.

The more I think about Holden’s and my relationship, the more it’s so very achingly crystal clear why he was not the right person for me. Which is terrible, because I spent the last two years thinking he was my person. And I was grateful that I had a person.

But I do have a person, I remind myself. Or people. I have Bran. I have my mom (sort of). I have my grandma. I’m not alone, and I don’t need Holden to anchor me in the world.

I know this rationally. But the heart is a wild creature that walks its own path.

Banks scoffs, bringing me back to their conversation. “They’ll never find the lotto winner. That person’s not coming forward until they’re ready.”

“Oh, I have an idea of how to find them,” Holden replies. He and Banks have stopped moving. I pause too, straining to hear what they’re saying.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to break into Wanda’s tomorrow night and get the surveillance