When Connor finally stops petting him and stands up again, Lucky jumps up and presses his flank against Connor’s leg, whining for more attention.
“I think you made a friend,” I say then hope he doesn’t take that the wrong way. But Connor is smiling and still scratching Lucky’s head, so I don’t think he’s even listening to me.
I start pulling the groceries out of the bags, and Connor’s attention quickly shifts. “Here, let me help you.”
“You don’t have to do that, Connor. You’ve done enough for me today. You’re going to think I’m the most high-maintenance girl ever.”
He grins. “Aren’t girls in general kind of high-maintenance?”
I huff and stick my hands on my hips. “So, does that mean I’m extra high-maintenance?”
He chuckles but is smart enough not to respond.
Once we get all the groceries out of the bags, Connor looks around in confusion. “Okay, I have no idea where any of this goes.”
“Don’t worry about it. Seriously, Connor, you’ve done enough. I think I’ll just put away the stuff that goes in the fridge and leave the rest out for later. My brothers will probably eat it all when they get home tonight, anyway, so why should I bother putting it away?”
Connor leans up against the counter, looking like he belongs here. “Yeah, where are all these alleged brothers of yours? Some St. Patricks’s Day party? The house seems way too empty.”
“Any other year, yeah. It’s our family’s favorite holiday. Dad cooks a big, Irish meal, dyes our drinks green, and we make potato candy. But today they’re probably all at the hospital. I was hoping they’d let my dad come home today, but I guess not.” I try not to sound too worried, but Connor winces anyway.
“Sorry, Kerri. I guess you probably want to go up there and see him. I should go so you can leave,” he says, but his voice makes me think that maybe he wishes he could stick around.
I kind of wish he would too, even though I have Dad’s sweatshirt back now, I still feel better having Connor around. But it would be weird to ask him to go with me to the hospital, and I’ve already put him out enough today.
“Hey, why don’t I give you a ride over there, just in case there is something wrong with your car.”
I bite my lip, wanting to say yes but feeling like I’m taking advantage of him. He must sense my conflicted feelings. “It’s practically on my way home. Come on, I’d feel better if you let me.”
He makes it sound like I’d be doing him the favor, and I just can’t resist his kind smile. “Okay, but only if it’s no trouble.”
“No trouble at all. You ready to go?”
I shove a few more things in the fridge and leave the rest of the groceries on the counter. “Let me just let Lucky out for a minute.”
I open the door to our fenced-in backyard, and Lucky bounds outside to do his business. He would run around for an hour if I let him, but I’m in a hurry to get to the hospital, so I bring him back in after just a few minutes. I have to call him several times, but eventually he comes loping back up to the door.
The hospital isn’t far from my house, so we’re there in no time. I almost wish the drive was longer, but I’ve monopolized enough of Connor’s time today. I hop out as soon as he pulls up to the door.
“Thanks again, Connor, for everything. And thanks for giving me the sweatshirt.”
“You’re welcome, Kerri. Glad I could help. See you tomorrow?”
“History class,” I say, nodding. I shut the door and wave, and Connor drives away.
I hurry up to Dad’s room, anxious to see how he’s doing. Someone has hung a cardboard leprechaun on the door, and his cheesy grin makes me smile. All my brothers are there, cheering for a ball game, and the room is crowded with muscles and testosterone. I slip in unnoticed.
When the Blue Devils miss a free throw, everyone cheers, and they finally see me and mutter out greetings.
“Hey, Daddy. How are you doing?” I push my way through to his bed and run my hand down his cheek. The swelling is down more on his bruised eye, and the skin is yellow and purple. All his other injuries are bandaged, so I can’t see how they’re doing, but he looks weak and tired, and he doesn’t respond when the Irish get fouled.
“I’m doing all right, pumpkin. How was your day?” He turns his head towards me, and I kiss him gently on the cheek and take his hand in mine.
It’s been a long, crazy day, and so much has happened, I don’t know where to start, but he’ll get a kick out of my big win.
“I won Florida Georgia Line concert tickets from the radio station today. Isn’t that awesome?”
“What?! That’s incredible. They’re your favorite band, too, aren’t they?”
“Yep. I don’t think I’ve ever won anything in my life.”
“Well, maybe your luck is finally changing.”
I scrunch my nose and shake my head. “Not exactly.”
I tell him about Connor and the lucky sweatshirt, which of course, leads to the story about my car needing to be jumped and Connor helping me.
Reid looks royally pissed when he hears what the mechanic said, and his face turns the same color as his hair. “There’s nothing wrong with your transmission. That guy was just a scammer.”
“Yeah, that’s what Connor thought, too. But just to be safe, he followed me home so we could drop the groceries off and then brought me here, so I’m gonna need a ride home later.”
“You bought groceries?” Sean asks, looking like a starving animal.
“Yeah, while we were waiting for my new battery Connor and I went grocery shopping.”
Niall puckers his brows and gives me a skeptical look. “So this guy jumped your car, followed you to the mechanic, took you to get groceries while you were waiting, followed you home, then drove you here?”
“And he carried in all the groceries and gave me back Dad’s sweatshirt.” I hold out the hem of the shirt.
“And this is the same guy that gave you his dinner yesterday. After you yelled at him.”
I nod.
“Kerri, that boy is either a psychopath who’s planning to murder you, or he has a thing for you. I’m not sure I would’ve done all that for Meghan, and I’m in love with her.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “He’s just a really nice guy, Niall. I know you three neanderthals wouldn’t know anything about that, but some guys have manners and know how to treat a woman.”
Sean snickers, probably at my use of the word woman, and Reid looks overly concerned. “Should I be worried about this guy?”
Niall shakes his head. “Nah, I didn’t get any weird vibes from him. He seemed all right. He’s just got the hots for our little sister.”
“That alone makes him a freak,” Sean says, and I slug a fist into his stomach. He’s got abs of steel, though, so it hurts me more than him.
“Owww,” I whine, holding my hand, and Sean laughs at me.
I shake my hand and open and close it a few times till it eventually quits hurting.
“So, I thought they might let you out of here today, Daddy. No such luck?”
He frowns and shakes his head, and even that little move looks like it hurts him. “No, I was still running a fever this morning, so they’re a little worried about infection. They want to keep me here another day, at least.”
“Here, why don’t you take your sweatshirt back. I think you need it more than me.” I pull it over my head and hold it out to him, but he refuses.
“I can’t get it on right now, anyway. Why don’t you let the boy have it back as a thank you for looking out for you?”
“I could…” I tilt my head, considering. It’s a nice idea, but I’m not sure I’m willing to give it up, which seems really selfish and petty of me, considering how kind Connor was to me, but the sweatshirt means a lot to me, and I still need a lucky charm.
We hang out with Dad for a while longer till his eyes get heavy and he looks like he’s about to fall asleep. We start discussing who’s going t
o stay the night with him, but he wakes up enough to tell us that we should all go home and sleep in our own beds, and after a little resistance, everyone agrees.
I ride with Niall because I know he won’t mind stopping for fast food on the way home. It’s late, and I haven’t eaten dinner yet, and I really don’t feel like cooking when we get home. He agrees but insists on McDonald’s, of course. I swear, that boy could keep McDonald’s in business just with his nugget consumption alone.
“Fine, but I want a shamrock shake,” I insist.
Of course, their ice cream machine is broken. Figures. They’re out of apple pies, too, and the fries we get are definitely not fresh.
When we get home, I do a double take when I walk into the kitchen because it looks like I’m inside a snow globe. Flakes of paper are strewn everywhere, and in the center of the room sits my book bag, torn open, all my books and notebooks ripped apart. Lucky is in the corner chewing on some pencils, and he doesn’t even act guilty, just jumps up and races over to us for some attention. I slump to the ground and put my arms around him and let him lick my face.
It looks like my bad luck is back in full force again.
“Aw, Lucky! Why’d you do this? What a disaster.” Niall grabs the broom and starts sweeping up the shreds of paper.
“It’s my fault; I left my bag on the floor. I should’ve known better. I just got distracted trying to keep Lucky from jumping on Connor.” I dig through my bag to see if anything is salvageable, but pretty much everything is torn to pieces, including my math book and the homework that’s due tomorrow.
“Whoa, what happened here?” Sean and Reid come in then, holding Chick-fil-A bags. Dang it! Why didn’t I ride with one of them? I love Chick-fil-A. Way more than McDonald’s.
“At least he didn’t get into the food,” Sean says, stepping over the mess to get to the stuff on the counters. He starts in on the cookies even though he just ate dinner, not bothering to offer to help me.
I glare at him and dump my ruined book bag in the trash then head to my bedroom to crash. I should try to redo the homework that Lucky ate, but instead, I call Mia, and we talk till I can’t keep my eyes open anymore. This has been the weirdest St. Patrick’s Day ever. I would say it was the worst, but thanks to Connor, there were a few good moments. I fall asleep thinking about the shy boy in the green sweatshirt.
I have more energy in the morning, and I don’t have to wait for Sean to drive me to school, so I take off a little early, hoping I can get another math book and do last night’s homework. Of course, I hit every stop light.
I didn’t notice the weather when I got in my car, but as I’m driving, black clouds roll in, and streaks of lightning flash across the sky as thunder strong enough to shake the whole town booms around me. A couple raindrops splat on my windshield while I’m parking, and I reach for my book bag, looking for my umbrella. Oh yeah, most of my bag is in Lucky’s stomach.
Can I beat the rain? I jump out of my car and rush for the school doors. I almost make it, too. Keyword being almost. I’m not ten steps away from the entrance when the sky splits open and rain pours down on me by the bucketful. Are you kidding me? I’m instantly soaked from head to toe. As soon as I get inside, I stand in the foyer and wring out my hair and sweatshirt. At least I have a tee shirt on underneath it, and that’s still mostly dry.
There’s not enough time for me to go back home and change, so I guess I’m just gonna have to drip dry. I waddle to the bathroom and peel off my jeans in a stall, wringing them out in the toilet. Putting them back on feels disgusting. — They’re cold and wet and heavy, but I don’t have anything else with me. We don’t have practice tonight, so I didn’t even bring my gym clothes.
Mascara is running down my cheeks, so I wash my face with a stiff, brown paper towel. I don’t have any makeup with me, so that means I’m going barefaced again today. I guess natural is my new look.
I hold up Dad’s lucky sweatshirt and glare at it. Why aren’t you helping me? It only seems to do me any good when Dad or Connor wears it. I make up my mind right that instant — I’m giving the sweatshirt back to Connor, on one condition.
There’s still a little time before the first bell, so I head to my pre-calc class to talk to my teacher about getting a new math book, my wet tennies squeaking. Not surprisingly, my teacher doesn’t believe me when I tell him my dog ate my homework — and my math book. He finds another one for me, though, and I sit on the floor in the hall and work on last night’s assignment. I don’t remember how to do any of this, though, so I know I’m getting most of the questions wrong. Maybe I’ll get lucky and this will just be a completion grade. Ha. Like that’ll happen.
I don’t get it all finished before it’s time for first period, but I’m doing so lousy on it I don’t even care anymore. We have a pop quiz in Spanish class, and I’m pretty sure I failed that, too. By the time I get to History class, I’m desperate to talk to Connor.
Chapter Eight
Connor
You have to help me!” A wet glob of material plops onto my desk, rousing me from my daydream, and Kerri leans in front of me. Her face is inches from mine and twisted up in agony, her freckles squished together.
“What’s wrong?” I pull back to get a little breathing room.
“Everything!” She throws her hands up in the air and plops down in the seat in front of me.
“My dad’s infected, the ice cream machine was broken, Lucky ate my book bag, I’m pretty sure I failed my Spanish quiz — like I said, everything!”
I stare blankly at her for a minute, trying to figure out what she’s talking about. Finally, I just say what I’m thinking. “Most of that didn’t make any sense, and I’m not sure what any of it has to do with me.”
Kerri rolls her eyes and sighs. “I’m cursed, Connor. Bad luck follows me around like a puppy dog, but it’s gotten even worse lately. Some things help, like my rabbit’s foot, but that’s not enough. My dad’s sweatshirt was always good luck for me when he wore it to my games, but when you were wearing it, it’s like my whole life was better. I want you to take it back. I need you to be my good luck charm, Connor.”
The few people around us are looking at Kerri likes she’s crazy, and they’re probably right. I like Kerri; she was fun to hang out with, and I wouldn’t mind being friends with her, but this is just weird. I can’t bring her good luck like she wants, and the last thing I need is for people to think I’m crazy, too.
I pick up the wet sweatshirt and hold it out to her with a grimace. “Kerri, I’m not a leprechaun. I can’t bring you good luck just by wearing this old sweatshirt.”
“But you already have! I won the last game because you were there with it on, I passed the last history test, I won those concert tickets, you were there when I needed my car jumped, and you saved me from being ripped off by that mechanic. Every time you’re around, you make my life better. Please, Connor, I need you.”
People around us are really gawking now, and all I want is to disappear. “Don’t you think I’ve helped you enough then, Kerri? Just leave me alone!” I mutter through gritted teeth.
Kerri’s face falls, and I know I’ve hurt her. I instantly feel terrible about that; It’s not like me to be mean. My parents would kill me if they heard me treat a girl like that. Kerri’s a nice girl, and I don’t want to be rude to her, but how am I ever going to get Mallory if I’m spending a bunch of time with some other girl?
Kerri slides the wet sweatshirt off my desk, leaving a trail, and heads to the other side of the room where she usually sits. She plops in her chair and looks over at me, pain and disappointment in her eyes. Now I feel like a total jerk.
When class is over, I head to lunch and join Eric and some of the other guys from the basketball team at their regular table. I see Kerri talking to Austin Meyer’s girlfriend, and I’m kind of surprised by that. Austin is probably the coolest guy in the school. Is Kerri friends with him? But then again, Kerri doesn’t seem afraid to talk to anybody, friends or not; sh
e’s like the opposite of me.
Maybe hanging out with her wouldn’t be such a bad thing, after all. Maybe she could help me make some friends here. I’ve been at this school for almost two months, and all I have so far are acquaintances. Kerri’s the closest I’ve come to an actual friend. Maybe it’s stupid of me to turn her down.
But Mallory walks in then, her face bright, her perfect figure swaying, and all other thoughts fall out of my head as I stare at her.
“So, how’s it going with Mallory?” Eric asks, noticing my blatant staring. “Did you figure out a way to let her know you exist?”
Mallory moves out of my line of sight, and I sigh and turn towards Eric. “I offered her a piece of gum. Does that count?”
“Did she take it?”
“Yeah, and she said thanks, but I could tell she didn’t know what my name was, so I told her.”
“So now she knows who you are, at least. And sharing is a good thing. You’re making progress. So, what are you going to do next?” Eric sticks a giant forkful of burrito in his mouth and chews it while I contemplate.
“I have no idea, dude.” I drop my eyes and wag my head.
“Now you got to let her get to know you a little bit. Find a reason to have a conversation with her, preferably about something you both like.”
What do we both like? I have no idea. I really don’t know anything about her except that she’s beautiful and she’s on the basketball team. That’s it! We both have that in common. Maybe I can talk to her about basketball. I start rehearsing lines in my head.
“Hey Mallory, I watched your game last Friday. You played really great.” Actually, Kerri played a lot better, but Mallory made a few decent shots.
“Aww, thank you, Connor. That’s so sweet of you! I watched your last game, too, and you were amazing, especially when you made that three-pointer. I wish I could shoot like that.” She gazes at me in adoration.
Good Luck Charm Page 7
