Lucky in Love

by Kasie West

  I got a deal.

  Congrats! I’m excited for you. You’re going to be Mr. Popular at UC Irvine next semester.

  Another text from Seth popped up then.

  By the way, I got your text. I can totally come to your birthday party this Saturday.

  Funny. You’re a month too late.

  I always am.

  You’re always a month late? You should work on that.

  I sat in my chair for ten long minutes, waiting for Seth to respond. He didn’t. I wondered if he’d walked away from his phone. I tapped my fingers on my desk, tempted to call him. We never called each other. We had only ever texted.

  Speaking of parties, I texted, there’s one this Friday. Are you going?

  It seemed like everyone knew about my party. Did he? Even without a shared online friend group, it was possible he’d heard about it through the friend of a friend. Or it was possible I was being paranoid.

  Yes, I’m going to a party. My grandma turns eighty on Friday. I guess that’s some sort of big accomplishment. I told her almost everyone was living to eighty these days so she shouldn’t be too proud of herself.

  I snorted. You did not.

  I totally did. But I think she knows I was kidding.

  I hope so.

  That’s obviously not the party you were talking about, though.

  No … not exactly.

  So wait, are you going to a party on Friday?

  Yes.

  One of these days, we’re going to be at a party together and it will be epic.

  One of these days I was going to tell him about winning the lottery, then we’d see about the epic part.

  Trina arrived at my house Wednesday afternoon and I met her outside. I may have been a multimillionaire now, but we still lived in the same house. Maybe I should buy my parents a new house. The thought flashed into my head and I turned it around a few times before dismissing it. We didn’t need a new house. I stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind me.

  Trina wore a pair of heels so high I wasn’t sure how she walked in them. “You’re shopping in those?” I asked.

  I was wearing a pair of tennis shoes because I figured we’d be walking a lot. I couldn’t remember the last time I had shopped anywhere but Target.

  Trina was staring at my shoes, too. Then her eyes moved up to the rest of my outfit—a pair of loose jeans and a T-shirt. “You’re shopping in that?”

  “This is my comfortable outfit.”

  “Comfort can be cute, too, Maddie.” She sighed, then hooked her elbow in mine. “Thank goodness you have my help.”

  “I was thinking I wanted to do something with my hair, too.”

  Trina squealed. “Yes! I have the perfect person for you. Come on.”

  That’s where we stopped first, at an eclectic little salon in Tustin. It had mirrors that hung from the ceiling to divide workstations and lots of potted trees. Trina’s perfect person was named Olivia and she and her choppy dark hair scowled at my hair as she pulled it out of the hair tie.

  “When’s the last time you had a cut?” Olivia asked.

  “Never? I mean, I’ve had a trim,” I said, leaving out the “by my mom” part.

  She shared a look with Trina, who said, “That’s why we’re here.”

  Olivia began talking to me through Trina, like I needed an interpreter. “What would she like done to it?”

  “I was thinking some layers and highlights,” Trina said, and smiled at me.

  “That sounds fine,” I said. After all, Trina did have amazing, thick, shiny waves of hair so I trusted her opinion. The hairdresser at the station next to ours had blue stripes in her hair so I added quickly, “Just blond.”

  “I’ll hold your glasses,” Trina said, taking them off of me before I could answer.

  My hands were trapped beneath a long vinyl cape so I was too slow to stop her. “I won’t be able to see what’s going on.”

  “It will be a fun surprise.”

  There was lots of hair pulling and strong-smelling chemicals and a big sink where my hair was washed. There was no way for me to tell how long it took, but it felt like hours before the blow-dryer and straightener were put away, and Trina handed me back my glasses.

  I slipped them on and Olivia swiveled the chair until I was facing the mirror. I let out a small gasp. My hair was even lighter than I’d imagined it would be, which made my skin seem brighter somehow. Soft layers hung around my face, highlighting my cheekbones. I turned from side to side.

  “Does she like it?” Olivia asked Trina.

  “Yes, I do,” I answered for myself. It would take some getting used to, but I loved it. Not only did it look amazing, but it felt like the start of a new me. The mature version of me. I could picture myself walking through the halls at UCLA, more confident than ever.

  I kept looking at myself in the rearview mirror as I drove.

  “Do you want to really go shopping? Like big-time?” Trina asked.

  “There’s big-time shopping?”

  “Of course there is. Rodeo Drive.”

  “Like Beverly Hills, Rodeo Drive?”

  “Is there another? I mean, come on. Ralph Lauren, Harry Winston, Louis Vuitton, Stuart Weitzman all on one street.”

  “That’s a lot of men.”

  Trina looked at me and then we both laughed.

  “Why do so many men design for women, anyway?” I asked.

  “Who cares? They do it well. What do you think?”

  “I think that it’s already five o’clock and there will be tons of traffic and it will take two hours to get there.”

  Trina pouted. “But it will only take us an hour to get back without traffic. That gives us a couple hours. That’s all we need.”

  L.A. would be crowded and full of tourists. All the one-way streets made it highly probable that I’d get lost. But I’d never been to Rodeo Drive before. And I could practically hear Blaire and Elise whining about all the aforementioned things if I were to suggest a shopping spree there. So I said to Trina, “Why not? Let’s go.”

  She raised her hands in the air, hitting the roof of the car, and squealed.

  By the time we got to Rodeo Drive, the sun had set. The palm trees lining the street of awning-covered buildings glowed green in the streetlights. The storefronts, with their big windows, glowed even brighter.

  “If you turn up ahead, there’s valet parking,” Trina instructed.

  I did and handed the keys over to some kid about my age. He looked at me and then my car and raised his eyebrows.

  “Thanks,” I said as he climbed in and shut the door.

  “Are you having a hard time watching someone else drive your baby?” Trina asked. I realized I was staring at the taillights as the valet drove my car into the garage.

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Do me a favor,” she said as we walked toward the bright big windows of the first store. “Just don’t look at the price tags. Find what you like, what looks good on your body, and don’t worry about cost. These clothes will last you three times as long as anything you own now. There’s a reason Pretty Woman shopped here. It’s about quality.”

  “Pretty Woman? As in the character in a movie?”

  “You know what I mean. There’s a reason they depicted her shopping here.”

  I nodded and Trina opened the door. A wave of cool, fresh, scented air hit me in the face. Apparently even the air was expensive on this street.

  I stopped to look at the first rack. I had heard what Trina had said about the price tags, I had even agreed, but I couldn’t help myself. A thousand dollars for a pair of jeans?

  “Ooh, those will look amazing on you,” Trina said, and pulled them off the rack. A woman was standing off to the left and Trina immediately handed her the jeans. She had done that with half a dozen things so far and I assumed the lady was whisking the clothes away to a dressing room somewhere.

  Just don’t think about it, I told myself. I needed new clothes. I was making up for
the years and years of only buying the cheapest things possible. And besides, like I had told Blaire, I could survive the rest of my life on even a third of what I’d won. I had money to spend. I smiled. I had money to spend.

  And so I did. I tried on everything I liked—silky shirts and soft dresses and shiny shoes. There were so many textures that I had never felt before in my life. Like cashmere. I’d heard about it but never felt it. I ran a sweater along my cheek.

  Apparently the lady who had been taking our clothes to our individual dressing rooms was like our personal assistant. Because she would tug on the waist of each pair of pants Trina or I would try on, fold up hems that were slightly too long. Then she’d write in a little book she held.

  “What are you writing?” I finally asked after she did the same to the third shirt.

  “Just the notes for alterations,” she said.

  “Alterations?”

  “So they fit you perfectly.”

  “Can they be ready by Friday afternoon?” Trina asked, like she did this often.

  “Of course,” the lady said.

  “Is there any way we can have them delivered to our houses?”

  “Yes, we can work that out,” our assistant said.

  “Perfect,” Trina responded.

  When we took our purchases to the register, I wondered if I was paying for everything. But Trina took out her wallet and bought her own things. I tried not to cringe at my total. It was more money than I’d spent on clothes in my life let alone in one hour.

  The rest of the evening played out the same as we went to several other stores. We bought purses and jewelry, belts, shoes, and bags. I wasn’t even sure how much I’d spent by the time we were done, but I knew I was exhausted.

  “Shopping is hard work,” I said.

  Trina laughed. “But fun, right?”

  “Yes. So fun.” I was surprised by just how much fun I’d had.

  “I can’t wait for everyone to see you on Friday. They’re going to die.”

  I looked down at myself, my old clothes back on. She was right, this was going to be a big change.

  “Do you have contacts?” Trina asked.

  I pushed my glasses up my nose. “Yeah. I just never wear them.”

  “I think your new look will go well with contacts.”

  She had a point there. “You may be right.”

  A different valet guy brought my car around and seeing it again made me realize I had been worried about it. When you spend that much on a car, it’s hard to trust other people with it. Trina handed the guy a folded bill.

  “Thanks,” I said to her, realizing I needed to figure out the tipping norms. I’d research it.

  The drive home was quiet. So quiet I heard my phone buzz in my purse. I hadn’t checked it all day, I realized. I hoped my parents weren’t trying to get ahold of me.

  I didn’t take out my phone until I’d arrived at my house and said good-bye to Trina. As I watched her drive off in her own car, I checked the text.

  It wasn’t my parents.

  Where are you?!?!

  It was Blaire. My mind raced. Where was I supposed to be? Had I forgotten something? It took me several minutes to remember. Study group. Crap.

  I opened my front door and yelled in, “Mom, I’m home but now I’m not again. I have study group!”

  “But it’s already after ten!” she yelled back.

  “I’ll be home by curfew.” Curfew was eleven on weeknights. The only time I’d ever stayed out until curfew was for study group.

  I pulled the door closed and rushed back to my car as fast as I could. I’d unload my purchases later. I sped to Blaire’s house.

  When I walked in, Blaire and Elise were already packing up their things. “I’m sorry I’m late,” I said. “Are you done already?”

  “Late would’ve been an hour and a half ago,” Blaire said. “But it’s fine.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Blaire looked up after zipping her backpack and her mouth dropped open.

  “I’m sorry,” I said again.

  “No … your hair.”

  “Oh.” I reached up and touched it. “I got it cut.”

  “You look … ”

  “Is it bad?” Trina had said it looked great, but Blaire’s reaction was scaring me.

  “No. You just look so different. Like you could walk out of a magazine.” Why did her expression make that seem like a bad thing?

  “It looks amazing!” Elise said.

  I smiled. “Yeah, Trina took me shopping today.”

  “Trina,” Blaire said, like it now all made sense.

  “Trina?” Elise asked. “Was it just you and Trina or did she bring her other friends?”

  “Just Trina. It took way longer than I thought it would.” I didn’t mention that was because we drove all the way to L.A.

  “Did you get lots of outfits?” Elise asked.

  “I thought we were going shopping,” Blaire said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “That night we went dorm room shopping, I asked you if we could go makeover shopping later, too, and you said yes.”

  “You did? I did? I’m so sorry. I forgot.” I wasn’t sure that was exactly how the conversation had gone, but I’d obviously hurt her feelings and I hadn’t meant to. I should’ve asked Blaire and Elise to come with me, too. I honestly didn’t think they would want to.

  “No big deal,” Blaire said.

  “You guys should come over Friday before the party and I’ll let you borrow something to wear,” I said.

  Elise smiled big. “Okay.”

  Blaire nodded. “I’ll come to your house, but I’m bringing my own clothes in case I hate what you bought.”

  I shoved her arm playfully. “Deal.”

  I looked at Blaire’s bag that she had now shifted to her shoulder. “Are you guys really done studying?”

  “Yes.” Blaire gave me a once-over, then attempted to look around me. “Did you even bring your books?”

  I stared at my empty hands for a moment, just now realizing I hadn’t. “I ran out of the house too fast.”

  Blaire shook her head with a smile. “You’re losing your mind, Maddie.”

  “Never. My mind is the strongest muscle I have.”

  Blaire laughed a little. “Keep saying stuff like that and you won’t fit in with the cool kids no matter how much money you have.”

  “I’m not trying to fit in with the cool kids,” I said.

  Blaire put her arm around my shoulder as she walked us toward the door, but didn’t respond.

  At home, in my bedroom, a stack of mail sat on my desk waiting for me. Seeing a big envelope there made my heart sputter. Was it finally my UCLA letter? But it didn’t have the logo. I opened it to discover it wasn’t a college acceptance at all. It was paperwork from my great-uncle.

  I flipped through each page that detailed the house we were purchasing. After Barry had called the other day, I’d done research on him. He was a very successful real estate investor. So I had all the confidence in the world as I reviewed the papers in front of me. I was proud that I was making my first investment. My first step to helping my money work for me. It was easy to spend money but I knew I wanted to grow my money, too.

  I signed my name on all the highlighted lines, stuck the papers back into an addressed envelope he provided, and then followed the directions he’d given me to wire him the five hundred thousand.

  The rest of the mail was mainly junk. Somehow I’d gotten on a zillion mailing lists and I now received advertising on a daily basis. I flipped through each and every piece though, making sure no other mail had gotten wedged between the folds. Where was my UCLA letter? It had to come soon.

  The house was quiet around me Thursday night, so when my phone chimed, it made me jump. I looked at the screen to see a calendar notification. Date with Blaire to go over Stanford packet. I had almost forgotten. I wondered if she remembered. I sent her off a quick confirmation text and got her answer back almo
st immediately: Just got my reminder. Do you want to pick me up?

  Yes. See you in a sec.

  I stood from my desk and made my way down the hall, listening intently. The television was on in the living room, but I heard my parents’ low voices on top of it. My mom laughed at something my dad said. I leaned against the wall with a smile. This was good. So good.

  I walked into the living room. “I’m going out with Blaire. Is that okay?” I glanced back and forth between the two of them. They sat close on the couch.

  Dad looked at Mom and some silent message was communicated in that look. Then she said, “That’s fine.”

  “Thanks.” I lingered for a few moments, not wanting to leave the rare scene.

  “Was there something else?” my dad asked.

  “No. I just … ” I bent down and hugged them, one arm around my dad and the other around my mom. “Thanks.”

  They both laughed and hugged me back.

  I showed up at Blaire’s front door with a pack of Sour Patch Watermelons and the Stanford package she’d put together. I knocked. Her mom answered.

  “Hi, Maddie. Let me grab Blaire for you. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “I know. I’ve been busy.”

  “You girls are always so busy. Congratulations on the lottery win, by the way.”

  “Thank you.” Was I supposed to say something more after that line? I still had no idea how to respond to that. Thank you made it seem like I had earned it somehow.

  She ushered me inside, then left me standing in the entryway.

  Blaire arrived a few minutes later. “I’m still not used to your hair like that.”

  I ran a hand through it. “Me neither.”

  She pointed at the pack of candy I held. “Are those for me?”

  “Yes. I’m bribing you because I was a flake last night.”

  She smiled. “You don’t need to bribe me, Maddie. You’re my best friend.”

  I handed her the candy, anyway. “I know.”

  She freed a sweater from the hook beside us and slid on a pair of flip-flops. “Let’s go.”

  In the car, Blaire pulled the seat belt across her chest. “Wow, fancy.”