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

a long moment and then exhales sharply. “You’re right,” she says, gulping back a sob. “I’ll keep working on it. If you promise to remind me that it’s okay to let him go. And maybe help me clean out the house. Slowly.”

“I will. Believe me, it’ll be my pleasure.”

She laughs then, still sniffling a little, and puts an arm around me, pulling me close. It’s a real hug, and this time, I let myself lean into it.

We sit like that for a few moments. I know Mom has a long way to go—from what I’ve read, hoarders can’t just give it up all at once—but sitting there next to her, I feel more grounded and more at home than I have in a very long time.

“What are you going to do about this ticket?” says Mom at last, pointing to the scrap of paper on the table. “I think you could have a marvelous life with that money.”

I pick up the ticket. “I could, but there’s a problem. Right now, one of the only options I have for cashing this ticket is Holden, and he broke up with me two months ago.”

“I know, Jane,” Mom says softly. “You told me, remember? The day after it happened, when I found you crying in the hallway?”

I had forgotten that. On that day, she had actually asked what was wrong, and I’d spilled my guts like a fish being cleaned.

“Yeah, well, it’s even worse,” I admit. “I thought we were maybe getting back together, which is obviously a mistake because now he’s blackmailing me. He wants me to give him the ticket so he can cash it for himself.”

“Don’t give him the ticket,” Mom says quickly.

“I won’t, but I need your help for this to work.”

“What do you need me to do?”

As we eat the rest of our dinner, I explain phase two of my plan.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

MOM AND I SPEND THE NEXT FEW HOURS CLEANING UP MY ROOM—yes, I let her into my space, which was both a big deal and nothing at all; and yes, she was furious when she saw the mess Holden had made. By the time I get a text from Holden at nine, my books are back on the shelves, and Mom and I have talked more than we have in years. It feels strange and good all at once.

“Are you sure you don’t want me or Bran to come with you?” asks Mom. “I don’t trust Holden.” She walks me to the front door, looking worried.

I shake my head as I put my shoes on. “I don’t trust him either, but I’ll be fine. I need you and Bran for phase two of the plan.”

“Okay,” says Mom. “But call me if you need anything.” She gives me a hug as she hands me the keys to her truck. I hug her back, trying to put all the things I haven’t been able to say into the embrace.

As I get into Mom’s truck, I read Holden’s message again.

Time’s up. Meet me at the lake, down by the beach, so we can talk. Bring the ticket.

I’m so ready for this meeting. Gone is my fear, anxiety, and sadness. I’m still angry, but since more people know about the ticket now and I have a plan, facing Holden is not stressing me out anymore.

I start the truck and pull out of the driveway with the windows down. This late in the year, it gets dark early, and the stars are already out. A cool breeze whips through the open windows as I drive through downtown. It’s empty, and the streetlights make it look like a town in a train set or out of a picture book.

Right as I’m parking in the lakeside parking lot, I get a text from Bran.

BRAN: Phase two is ready.

JANE: Excellent. Go in two minutes.

BRAN: On it.

Phase two is the one that will cut the legs out from under Holden. Tucking my phone into my pocket, I park the truck and walk toward the picnic table where Holden waits for me. He’s facing the lake, huddled into his jacket, and the wind picks up a piece of his hair, which he brushes behind his ears. My heart gives one last treacherous leap as I remember his hands on my hip, his lips on mine.

Has it really only been two days since we last talked? Did he really break into my room and trash it? Is there any way to save this, at all?

Ugh. No. Don’t even go there, Jane.

I curl my hands into the cuffs of my jacket and walk up to the picnic table. Holden looks up. He has dark circles under his eyes, and I hope he hasn’t been sleeping.

“Hi,” he says, scooting over.

The table is covered in bird poop and fish guts from people who clean the fish they catch right here on the table, but I settle into a spot between all the grossness. Holden just sits down on top of it all. Like he doesn’t care. Maybe he doesn’t.

“Hi,” I say. My voice is clipped. I stare across the dark expanse of our little lake. A pair of streetlights cast yellow globes on the sidewalk by the beach, but otherwise, the trees and water are an inky mass, moving in the wind.

“Did you decide what to do?” Holden asks. The lights also accentuate the planes of his face, making him look almost like a statue.

I turn to him then, looking deeply into those deceitful blue eyes. We’ve already been over this, but my anger at Holden bubbles over. “I did, but before I tell you, I have to know: Why are you doing this? A week ago we were out on the lake, accidentally kissing.”

Holden shifts his eyes to the side, looking uncomfortable. “Yeah …”

“You were being nice,” I push on. “You gave me a sweatshirt and coffee. What happened to that guy?”

“I’m still that guy, Jane,” Holden says.

“That guy wouldn’t be blackmailing me over