The Lucky Ones - Liz Lawson Page 0,65

I pull open the door to the auditorium. “After you.”

When Zach walks up to me outside drama, my first thought is that he looks extra cute today, which is so lame. My brain is turning to total mush because of this guy. I don’t remember ever being like this with Miles, even when we first started dating, but then again, my relationship with Miles was different.

Since Saturday, Zach and I haven’t hung out, but we’ve been talking on the phone, like people did back in the twentieth century. I think I’ve spent more time talking on the phone in the past four days than in the entire rest of my life. Lucy’s all excited, and Grann thinks Zach is the best thing ever. At breakfast on Sunday, she kept going on about the healing power of love, and I was like Grann, would you please calm down? (Except I phrased it in a much nicer way than that, because I might be a total dick to most people, but I never would be a dick to Grann.)

Even Chim is excited for me. I guess I knew she would be, if I let her, but after Lucy’s show she texted me to ask who that cute boy was (her words, not mine) and I had to explain. Otherwise, she might have thought he was fair game.

Outside drama, Zach and I make small talk. I barely pay attention to what I’m saying because I’m entranced by his lower lip. A tiny part of me keeps going Hey, dummy, this is STUPID of you, why are you getting caught up with another human being, but then my brain replays the kiss from the other night, the feeling of Zach’s hand on mine, and for the first time since Jordan died and the letters started arriving and everything went to hell, I manage to ignore it.

Zach pulls open the door and motions for me to go in ahead of him. A couple of the other kids in the class nudge each other when they see me, no doubt remembering the scene I made the other week, but I’ve dealt with worse. Much worse. I square my shoulders and tilt my head up like I don’t have a fucking care in the world and make my way to my seat.

Kowalski’s hair is on fire today. Obviously not literal fire, but the rain did not do anything to it that could be construed as positive. I catch Zach’s eye and we exchange a smile that makes me feel all tingly and warm and sends the butterflies in my stomach into flight.

For the first time in forever, I dare to think that there might be a chance for me after all.

* * *

And then I get home after school, and all my optimism and dumb hope shatters when I reach into the mailbox and pull out another envelope, postmarked from the county jail.

I’m sprawled on the couch in my family room Thursday night, barely watching the TV in front of me, scrolling through the texts May and I have sent back and forth in the last few days, trying to figure out the perfect thing to say to her. There’s this part of me, this insane part, that feels like if I can string together words in exactly the right way, I can ease some of her pain.

I’m deleting yet another sentence without sending it, when Gwen comes into the room and flops down next to me.

“What are you watching?”

I squint up at the TV and shrug. “No clue. You can change it if you want.” I nod at the remote a few cushions down and she reaches out with her foot and grabs it like a tiny, cute monkey. She flips to the Disney Channel and then sneaks a glance at me like she thinks maybe I’m going to laugh at her for watching it. I make sure my face remains impassive, because I’d much rather she watch that than some of the shit that’s on these days. She’s growing up too fast as it is.

We’re quiet for a few minutes, me playing with my phone and her watching the show.

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