Dumb Luck Read Free

guess I could have, but legally you weren’t supposed to be allowed to buy one until you turned eighteen.
    And then I thought, Guess who just turned eighteen?
    And I remembered what Dr. Yates had said.
    No way.
    But I was bored. I had five dollars left in my pocket. I picked up one of those little paper slips where you pencil in the numbers you want. I asked Dave, “How do you do this?”
    Dave looked at me like I was stupid. “You never did one before?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œYou gotta be eighteen,” he said. “They come around here checking on me sometimes. Can’t sell smokes to kids. Can’t sell ’em beer or lottery tickets.”
    â€œI know,” I said. “I just had a birthday.”
    He shrugged like he could care less. “Well, you take the pencil and blacken in the little boxes—pick six numbers. Any six. Who knows? You might get lucky.”
    I picked my six numbers. 3, 12, 21, 29, 33, 41.
    I paid Dave, who had not asked to see any ID after all. Dave slipped my piece of paper into a machine and handed me my first ever official lottery ticket. I stared at it. My chance to be a multimillionaire. Yeah, right.
    It was a Friday. The lottery draw was the next night. I stashed the ticket in my now-empty wallet and walked home, thinking, yeah, the weekend. Two days off from school already. Two more off and I wouldn’t have to be sitting in a classroom until Monday morning. Not such a bad deal.
    Nothing much happened that day. Or the next. My headaches were gone. Doc Yates had e-mailed the funny photo of me and him and the X -ray of my head. I printed it out and put it on my wall. I got a weird e-mail from Kayla:
    Brando,
    I realize I kind of made a mess of our friendship. I’ll never do that again.
    I promise. I just want us to stay friends. Happy belated birthday.
    Kayla
    What’s with girls anyway? Yeah, she had kind of mucked things up by kissing me but I just wanted to forget it and get on with my so-called life. So I just e-mailed back:
    K,
    All is well. Pretend it never happened. And next time we go climbing, remind me to bring a parachute.
    B
    I honestly didn’t know if I’d ever climb a tree again but, hey, you have to have a little fun in life.
    My Saturday night was about as dull as a Saturday night could be. Dinner with a grumpy dad, who complained about his job selling used cars to people he referred to as “losers and dimwits.” I helped my mom wash the dishes and listened to her complain about my dad and how unhappy she was with the old house we lived in. (Doesn’t get much more exciting than that.) And then I holed up in my room and watched some reality shows on TV .
    I guess I could have actually watched the lottery draw on TV but I had forgotten about the ticket. Instead, I watched a show about a very unhappy family that had let cameras come into their lives to show the world how unhappy they were. There was a lot of screaming and slamming doors and it made me feel like maybe I didn’t have it so bad.
    I almost went to bed. When I was taking off my pants, my wallet fell to the floor and the ticket fell out.
    So I picked it up.
    And I sat down at my desk and Googled the lottery site.
    And there were the winning numbers. 3, 12, 21, 29, 33, 41.

chapter five
    I felt dizzy and light-headed. My eyes went kind of funny and my throat went dry. Was the room actually spinning or was it me? This just wasn’t possible.
    No way.
    So I Googled another site that also had the lottery winning numbers and I stared at them again: 3, 12, 21, 29, 33, 41.
    I looked at the little yellow piece of paper in my hand.
    No freaking way.
    I wondered if I was dreaming. My hands were sweating now. I stood up and walked in a small circle around my room and looked at my lottery ticket and the screen again.
    I checked a third site and then went back to the official lottery Web site. It all checked out.
    I thought about calling Kayla but everything