The-Lucky-List-Rachael-Lippincott

I couldn’t imagine leaving here before my senior year of school. Leaving Kiera behind. Leaving the
familiar hallways of Huckabee High.
Then again, that sounds like it could be a miracle after the past few weeks.
But Blake isn’t running from a ruined social life.
“My grandma back there is doing a lot better than Grandma Carter though.”
“Is that why you moved? Because of your grandma?”
Blake shis, leaning her head back against the wall. “Yeah, she hasn’t been doing so well since my
grandpa died. And my aunt Lisa lives way closer than Hawaii, but still a bit too far away to check up on
her regularly.” I think about seeing her downstairs. e cane. e hollowness of her cheeks. “Plus, I
didn’t want to feel like I didn’t spend enough time with her, you know? Like I did when my grandpa
died. I think my dad felt the same.”
ere’s a loud bang from somewhere down the hall, Johnny and my dad up to no good. “at, and I
think he wanted to be close to her when I go away to college.” She stands with a stretch. We hear
another bang followed by some laughter, the two of us smiling at each other. “It’ll probably be a good
thing for your dad when you head to college too,” she says, doubling down on her confidence in me
getting out of here. “Not sure about anyone else, though. e two of them together might just bring
about Huckabee’s demise.”
I nod and don’t say anything, continuing to look through the pictures. I stop on one of Blake and
her friends from back home sitting atop a huge cli, the jaed edges of the rock illuminated by the
sunlight, the distance to the water enough to make me feel dizzy just looking at it.
I spin the picture around to face her. “Did you jump off this?”
“Yeah,” she says as she stoops down to look at it, her eyes flicking up to meet mine, a mischievous
grin on her face. “You ever been cliff jumping before?”
“Have I ever been cliff jumping?” I snort. “Blake, that’s like asking if I’ve ever robbed a bank, or solved
pi.”
I push down the initial wave of excitement I had upon seeing the photo. I’ve definitely read articles
about cli-diving accidents. People breaking their necks, or losing their balance and smacking their
head on the way down.
I don’t need to test my luck falling off anything.
She turns back to me, confused. “I always remembered you as the adventurous type,” she says.
“Sledding down that huge hill backward, chucking snowballs at those teenage boys who were being
jerks, trying to blow up Santa.”
“First of all, the last one was all you,” I say, raising my eyebrows at her. “And besides, cli jumping is
more than just being adventurous. I’m way too afraid of…” My voice trails o as I realize what I’m
about to say.
“Heights?” Blake finishes, her eyes wide, that mischievous grin reappearing.
“No,” I say, shaking my head, even though that’s exactly what I was going to say.
“Like… what’s on the list? Like… we should probably go cli jumping so you can check it o the
list?” she asks.
I start to object, but I can feel the cracks starting to form, the Huckabee Lake trip getting closer
and closer with each passing second. It is kind of perfect.