J. C.
Johnny Carter? Not Joe Clark?
I think of the cassette tape from the box, the note on it: “Let me know if you change your mind.”
Nina’s words a week ago: “Who said your mom got it right the first time?”
I look up to meet his gaze, understanding. Twenty years ago that kiss had meant exactly the same thing to my mom as it meant to me.
It wasn’t about kissing the person who we were supposed to be with. It was realizing who we wanted to be with.
My dad reaches out, his rough hand cupping my cheek. “I love you, Em,” he says, his brown eyes getting a little teary, and making my brown eyes a little teary. “No matter what, okay?”
I nod, the tears spilling out of my eyes and down my cheeks as he pulls me into a hug. “And I’m not just saying that because your mom’s little instruction list told me to,” he says, the both of us laughing. “I would have said it anyway.”
I stare at the painting on the wall, just over his shoulder, thinking of how happy I’d been this summer. How, even after getting my luck back, I’d still been too afraid to take a chance on Blake. All because I was scared.
I was scared because… to be with Blake meant that there couldn’t be any more hiding.
But I don’t want to be scared anymore. I’m not scared anymore. I don’t want to change who I am.
I need to be willing to play the game. I need to be willing to put myself out there, and be vulnerable, and take chances, even though I might lose.
And if my mom taught me anything this summer, it’s that maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what I need to do to fix this.
And I know just who to call.
32
“You ready?” Kiera asks when I slide into the car.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say, clicking into my seat belt. “Did Olivia give her mom the bask—”
“Yes,” Kiera says.
“And does she have th—”
“Em,” she says, reaching out to grab my arm. “Olivia gave her mom the basket and the numbers. Jake is making sure Blake will be there. And… Matt got us the seat in the back corner in case things go south and we gotta get the hell out of there.”
I look up in surprise.
Matt.
She smiles at me. “Like he’d miss out on a good scheme.”
I feel tears sting at my eyes, one thing a little less broken.
I try to fight the queasiness in my stomach the whole ride to the elementary school for the “Back-2-School Bingo Fundraiser,” the feeling so strong that not even Kiera playing some Billie Eilish can completely quash it.
Three years ago this was the absolute worst day of my entire life. August 20. The day my mom died.
And now, just maybe, with the help of my friends, with the help of my mom and her list, this anniversary doesn’t have to be all bad memories.
The parking lot is already packed by the time we get there, and Kiera circles a few times to find a spot while I peer at everyone walking inside, searching for Blake’s face.
After we park, we join the throngs of people heading into the cafetorium, all the regulars already there.
Tyler Poland with his collection of lucky rocks, Jim Donovan ready to fight to the death, Principal Nelson perched at the main table selling cards.
I crane my neck, trying to get a better look at the people coming inside, my eyes jumping from person to person, but she’s nowhere to be found. I catch sight of Olivia’s mom, Donna Taylor, and she gives me a curt nod, the basket cradled tightly in her arms.
When we get to the front of the line, Principal Nelson hands me my mom’s card with a smile, and I pause, reaching out to pick up another card, number twelve. For the list. “I’ll take this one too,” I say.
A new chance, just like the one I hope I have tonight.
We buy a few more cards for the table before heading toward the back corner, the seats already filled with my friends, Matt, and Olivia, and Ryan, and… Blake. She’s sitting down next to Jake, her sun-streaked hair pulled back into a bun, just like it was that day in the kitchen, a charcoal, vintage band T-shirt hanging loosely on her torso.
My heart starts pounding in my ears, louder than all the voices in the room.
“Come on,” Kiera whispers. She grabs my hand, pulling me forward.
“Hey!” Matt says when we get there. “Look who’s here!”
Blake glances up in surprise, a slight furrow forming in her brow when she sees me. I forget how to breathe, her brown eyes knocking every single thought from my head.
She looks between me and Matt, then quickly away, shooting Jake a look that screams, “Really?”
“We’ve got the cards,” Kiera says, nudging me into action. She hands out her half while I hand out mine, keeping card number twelve for myself, and holding that fruit-punch-stained card number 505 out to Blake.
She reaches out to take it, mumbling a thank-you.
We sit as the microphone crackles to life, Donna Taylor’s voice announcing the start of the night.
The ball cage begins to rattle, and I look behind me to meet Donna’s gaze as she plucks one of the yellow balls out. She takes a deep breath before calling into the microphone.
“I-twenty-three!”
It takes everything in me to not look at Blake as the familiar numbers begin to pile up, her hand reaching out to take red chips from the center of the table. I look down at Kiera’s leg, bouncing nervously up and down next to me, Olivia staring up at her mom, her eyes wide as she waits for the next number.
Ryan is too distracted to even pay attention to his own card, but that’s nothing new.
Soon there’s only one left. One more number to be called.
I reach into my pocket, my fingers wrapping around the lucky
