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

“How do you know that?” I ask. Apparently, this white-guy mansplaining is a part of Holden’s new personality too. Fun.

“I looked it up,” says Holden. “At FICA camp, my roommate’s family had a private jet. He took me on it on the weekend when we flew from New York to Charleston to see his grandparents. After that, I researched all about how much it costs to have one, for when I’ve got my own someday.”

I roll my eyes.

Bran and Sofie both start talking at once, arguing with Holden about the actual costs of owning a private jet. Which is hilarious, since we’re all not-rich kids who are hoping for college scholarships.

“Hey!” says Sofie suddenly. “Jane didn’t tell us what she’d do with the lotto money.”

“Yeah,” Holden chimes in. “What would you do with the money, Fortuna Jane?”

His eyes sparkle like the Pacific Ocean, and, I swear, I’ve never hated anyone so much. Seriously, in that moment when he uses my full name, I feel like a superhero whose nemesis has finally been revealed.

I tear my eyes away from his and fiddle with the strings of my hoodie. “Well, Holden Haden Jones—”

Bran snorts, and I shoot him a grateful look.

“I’m not sure what I’d do if I won that much money. I’m willing to bet winning the lottery brings nothing but trouble to the winners.”

“That’s true,” says Bran. “Did you know there’s something called the ‘lottery winner’s curse’?”

Everyone stares at him, and I file the information into my shit-to-look-up-later-about-the-lottery mental list.

Bran goes on. “I researched it this morning. A huge number of people who win the lotto actually end up brutally murdered by their loved ones.”

“Well, that’s depressing, Bran,” says Sofie.

Holden fixes me with a look. “And Jane still didn’t tell us what she’d do with the money if she won.”

I think about the orange Mega-Wins ticket I’m using as a bookmark. What will I do with it? Besides hide it for the next two weeks until I’m old enough to cash it.

“I have no idea,” I admit. It feels good to be honest about something today.

The bell rings, and Holden gets up without saying goodbye.

As he walks away, Sofie gives me a small smile. “I know you’ve got to go, but Jane, you should know, you can do so much better than Holden. And I’m here if you ever need to chat.”

“I know I can,” I agree. “And thank you.”

Bran and Sofie say goodbye (promising to FaceTime each other later, when they have more privacy, eww).

Bran hangs up the phone, and we start to walk back toward school.

“You okay?” He’s been asking me that nearly every minute of every day since Holden dumped me. It’s endearing and annoying in equal measure.

I shrug. “Totally fine. Just having a strange day because of this lotto stuff.”

“I think the whole town feels your pain,” says Bran. “See you at work tonight?”

I work at the pumpkin farm Bran’s family owns. “I’m off tonight. Plus, it’s a Big Junk Dump day tomorrow, so I’m sure you’ll see me around town.”

Big Junk Dump day (a painfully regrettable name, I know) or BJD day happens twice a month. It’s a day where everyone hauls old TVs, high chairs, broken coffee tables, boxes, and everything in between to the curb. Lots of people will pick up the occasional item off the curb, but my mom—a woman who’s made it her mission in life to save other people’s memories—lives for Big Junk Dump day.

Tonight, Mom will force me into an evening of pawing through whatever’s been left on the curb. Talk about a fun bonding activity. Or a way to up my high-school cool points. I mean, thanks to Mom, I actually got nominated last year as the future senior “Most Likely to Be Seen Going through Somebody Else’s Trash.” A sobriquet the yearbook editor vetoed, but still. What a claim to fame.

“Call me if you need anything tonight,” Bran says. “Maybe we can get you out of BJD somehow.” Bran has strong opinions about my mom, but he’s also a good-enough friend not to get into them at school.

“You’re a wonderful human—thank you.” I smile at him and then the lunchtime warning bell rings. We only have two minutes before our next class.

“This ticket is going to change everything around here,” Bran calls out over his shoulder as he rushes toward his class. “I can feel it!”

He’s absolutely right. And I’m so ready for a change. Somehow, I’m going to cash this ticket, get my mom some help, take myself on a vacation, and get over Holden Jones at last.

CHAPTER THREE

THE REST OF THE DAY IS A BLUR. I MAKE IT THROUGH MY CLASSES and manage to remember the Ecology Club meeting after school. As I walk through halls filled with students still gossiping about the ticket, I keep my head down. It’s all I can do not to shout, “I WON THE LOTTO! IT’S ME YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT! JUST STOP ALREADY.”

What would the other students do if I did shout that? Call me a liar? Rip my backpack apart to find the ticket? What is it they say—we’re all three days to becoming animals in disaster situations? How much more quickly do we descend when huge amounts of money are at stake?

“I wonder how anyone could keep this a secret?” says a blond girl in a Green Bay Packers sweatshirt. My school isn’t huge, but I don’t know her or her group of friends.

“Excuse me,” I mutter, as I push through the knot of their bodies. They’re all clustered by the water fountain and blocking the hallway.

All the girls stare at me, and one whispers, “That’s her. Holden’s ex.”

As if I didn’t have a name. For so long, I was known as “Holden’s girlfriend” around school; now I’m destined to be “Holden’s ex.” Ugh.

“Why did he date her for so long?” The first girl’s incredulous tone makes me want to hit her.

Because I’m funny, and cute, and smart, and really good at