The-Lucky-List-Rachael-Lippincott

She just stares at me, her dark eyes serious. “Listen. You’re my best friend, and you know I’ve always
got your back, but I’m going to be real with you. If we have to spend senior year smack in the middle
of this drama between you and Matt, it’s going to suck. I mean, just think about it. I’ll have to alternate
lunch tables! And don’t even get me started on Senior Skip Day. How will we do that without the
whole crew together? If we can’t have an awesome Senior Skip Day with our friends, with Jake making
his crappy jokes, and Olivia staring at Ryan like the sun comes out of his ass, I’m going to hold a
grudge so big, your great-grandchildren are going to feel it.” She pauses, raising her eyebrows at me.
When I don’t say anything, she lets out a long sigh. “Em, I am here to help you, but you are the only
one who can fix this.”
“I know. I’m working on it,” I say, thinking of the list. But I don’t want to get her hopes up yet. And
I don’t know how to tell her this pressure is not helping. Like… at all.
We’re both silent for a long moment, then Kiera finally clears her throat to break the tension.
“Well, I gotta call my mom before my phone goes back in e Locker,” she says, nodding behind her
to a closet covered in National Park stickers. “Talk next week?”
I nod. “Yeah. For sure.” ings still feel prickly between us, so I give her a small smile. “Can’t wait to
hear about what happens this week with Todd.”
She returns it, but it’s not her usual smile. “I’ll keep you updated. Love you.”
“Love you,” I echo, the screen going dark, the call ending.
Sighing, I lean against the counter.
I hate this feeling.
Everything about this moment feels awful and unfamiliar. I can’t believe I snapped at her. If Kiera
were here in Huckabee, and not all the way at Misty Oasis with a time limit on phone usage, I’d ride my
bike over to her place to shake off the weirdness.
I turn my head and watch the pasta water instead, the small bubbles growing and growing, slowly
turning into a rolling boil. I add the entire pasta box to the pot. Far more than two people can eat in
one sitting, but whatever. I can refrigerate it for my dad to take for lunch for the next couple of days.
My phone vibrates, and I grab it, hoping to see Kiera’s name, a final text to say things are fine even
though they don’t feel it. But to my surprise, it’s from Blake.
I tap on the notification, and a text bubble appears.
What are you doing tomorrow?
Why? I type back automatically, the response I’ve conditioned myself to ask before I accidentally
open myself up to something I might not want to do.
I hesitate before deleting it and trying again. I work in the afternoon, but I’m free before that.
She replies right away. I was going to head to the pool to see if they’re still hiring lifeguards.
You want to come?
I groan, tossing my phone onto the counter. e pool. Of course she’s going to get a job there. It’s
only the mecca of Huckabee High summer employment, staed by Jake, Matt, Ryan, and everyone who
knows exactly what went down between us.
I can see it now. One sunny day they’ll all be lounging around the infamous lifeguard picnic table,
generations of Huckabee Pool employees’ names carved into the worn wood, a historic roll call sitting
right alongside a couple of overexaggerated penis drawings.