The Odds of Lightning Read Free Page B

the fingers contracted in a wave. “Nathaniel. William. Luella.” Luella snickered. Tobias stopped on Tiny. The hand reached over and patted her on the head. “Tiny,” he said. She was at least two feet shorter than he was.
    â€œAm not,” Tiny said.
    â€œAre too.”
    Tiny felt her cheeks turn pink.
    â€œAm. Not. ”
    Tobias laughed. “Bye, Tiny!”
    â€œShut up, Tobias!” Nathaniel called after him.
    But it was too late. Her head wasn’t the only thing Tobias had held in his robotic hand. He had plucked her from obscurity. He had noticed something special about her—even something as dumb and insignificant as not growing as fast as the others—and he had shone a light on her.
    He was now holding her heart, too.
    Â Â *  *  *  
    â€œAre you going to submit it to the lit mag?” Luella was still trying to read the poem over Tiny’s shoulder.
    â€œI don’t know. Probably not.” Tiny blinked. It was amazing how much of your life could be defined by one singular memory. Ever since that day, she had been Tiny.
    â€œYou totally should. How cool would it be to write this amazing poem and have everyone know it’s yours?”
    â€œThis one’s private. The only way I’d submit this is if I did it anonymously.”
    â€œIf you say so,” said Luella. “I love being the center of attention. I’d want all that glory.” Luella smiled to herself and hummed under her breath.
    â€œLuella,” Tiny said. “What’s up with you today? You are acting like you do when you have a secret.”
    â€œI don’t have a secret,” Luella said, and kept humming.
    â€œUh, yes, you totally do!”
    â€œDo not.” Luella stuffed a piece of candy into her mouth and crunched down audibly.
    â€œOkay, weirdo.” Tiny nudged her with her elbow. “You always hum when you have a secret.” They sat in silence for a minute or two. Well, silence, except for Luella’s crunching and the sound of heat thunder rumbling in the distance.
    â€œHey,” Tiny said, swinging her feet out. “How are you and your mom doing? With the move-out and everything?”
    â€œFine,” Luella said absently.
    â€œFine?”
    â€œJust trying not to think about it.”
    â€œOh,” Tiny said. “Yeah. Okay.” She struggled to think of something else to say. Luella was clearly done with the subject. “So, I have an idea about tonight. It combines two of our traditions: meeting up for gelato, and the thing I’ve never done before.”
    â€œOooh.” That got Luella’s attention. “Tell me.”
    â€œWell, okay. Tobias leaves for Boston tomorrow and has to get some final data to submit with his interdisciplinary course proposal for EAPS. Something about climate change and cities and electrical energy. Nathaniel asked if we wanted to go with him to the Brooklyn Bridge and watch. It’ll be very Benjamin Franklin.”
    Luella looked skeptical.
    â€œYeah, okay. Maybe.”
    â€œLuella! You mean no, don’t you?”
    â€œI mean maybe. But, Tiny, here’s the thing. We start high school tomorrow. Tobias is going to college. Isn’t it time to get over him? Put him behind you and start the year fresh?”
    Tiny frowned. “I’m fine. I don’t need to put him behind me.”
    Luella grabbed the notebook. “What’s this? I see his name! In your di-a-ry.” Tiny grabbed the notebook back.
    â€œIt’s not a diary. It’s a poetry journal. ”
    â€œWhatever. Well, then maybe just bite the bullet and tell him you like him already and want to have ten thousand of his little genius babies.” Luella bit down on a piece of candy. Hard. It broke in half.
    â€œEr. Maybe,” Tiny said, meaning no. But Luella was getting excited.
    â€œYes! That’s the thing you’ve never done before! I’ll go tonight if