Just My Luck Page 12

  CHAPTER 28

  THE BEST RIDE EVER

  Out of my way! Out of my way!” Blythe shrieked as the train bounced across the field at breakneck speed.

  Hearing the commotion approaching, Abhi turned, but froze.

  I threw the ticket bag to Cliché, interrupting her fortune telling.

  “Hey!” Janie and Cliché shouted.

  “I’ve got to save Abhi!”

  Janie stood. “Zack, you will. I can see it clearly now. ‘This is your destiny. Never look back, Darling. It distracts from the now!’”

  I sprinted toward Abhi, yelling, “The Incredibles, two thousand four!” as my battle cry.

  The train careened right for her.

  I pumped my arms as fast as I could.

  The train growled and spit black smoke from its shiny mufflers.

  “MOOOOOVE!” Blythe shrieked.

  The lawn-mower train was twenty feet from plowing Abhi down, flattening her like a vegetarian pancake.

  “Disperse, studens!” Mr. Akins screeched into his bullhorn. “Seek to disperse!”

  “Remember the Alamos!!!” El Pollo Loco hollered from the swaying caboose, both hands up. In that second, without thinking, I leapt up into the air and flew toward Abhi, tackling her out of the roaring train’s path.

  Everything happened in slow motion. Abhi and I flew through the air on our sides like twin missiles. All the while a shocked Abhi looked at me with her terrified gray eyes, and I looked back, strong and steady, as we flew together.

  “Leave that poor girl alone, Delacruz!” Coach Ostraticki bellowed.

  The crowd, who’d until that moment been hypnotized by dunking Coach Ostraticki, spun around at once to the horror of the train barreling straight for them.

  They parted like the Red Sea, the train cutting a straight line for the dunking booth. Coach Ostraticki’s eyes widened. Franticly, he blew his whistle, waving his hands for Blythe to stop.

  “I can’t stop this crazy thing!” Blythe screamed, gripping the steering wheel, a rush of wind blowing her conductor hat off.

  “AHHHHHH!” The train passengers screamed.

  Thankfully, the train slowed a little when it sank into the swampy grass around the tank.

  “HOLD ON!” Blythe yelled.

  With a loud crash, the lawn mower plowed into the dunking booth, knocking a wide-eyed Coach Ostraticki off his dunking bench! Ku-splash! Waves of water shot out of the dunking booth tank. The water in the tank had absorbed the bulk of the impact.

  After all these years, it took a runaway train to finally dunk Coach Ostraticki. He pressed his face against what was left the clear plastic tank, looking at the mayhem, eyes bulging. Bubbles escaped his yelling mouth as he saw a crack grow in the tank. Panicked, he swam to the top. C-RRR-ACK! SNAP! The rest of the tank water broke through, rushing and spilling over the train and its stunned passengers. Coach Ostraticki looked like a river rafter as he passed over Blythe and the passengers, his whistle blowing a sad, wet sound.

  The smell of chlorine wafted through the air as the train motor steamed and hissed.

  In all the commotion, none of us had noticed poor Mrs. Darling swirling around in the panicked, crowd. Actually, you couldn’t see Mrs. Darling—just her shoes poking out from beneath the cascarone tower, somehow still balancing the delicate eggs.

  Mrs. Darling’s tower teetered.

  “I’ve got it … I’ve got it,” she sang from behind an endless stack of eggs.

  Mrs. Darling’s tower tottered.

  No idea what was in front of her, Mrs. Darling kept walking ahead. She had become a Jenga-game-gone-wrong and rocked forward and back. “I’ve … got …” Mrs. Darling’s voice was still loud, but it began to quiver. Her sandals took a big step backward. Somehow she slipped on a large piece of plastic that had broken off the dunk tank. Her feet began surfing across the muddy mess—fast, but the rest of Mrs. Darling and the stacks of cascarones didn’t.

  “OH, MYYYY!” Mrs. Darling bellowed as her feet finally stopped sliding and shot up in the air. Her pink sandals flew off, and the stacks of cascarones catapulted from her hands high above the muddy field. In the air, the eggs began crashing into one another with such great force that their thin shells shattered and their confetti burst free. The shocked crowd looked up to see thousands of crushed cascarones flying through the air, like a confetti cannon had gone off at a Spurs basketball game.

  “Ooh!” Helpless, the soaked passengers threw their hands up to block the shower of out-of-control cascarones that were tumbling and crashing over them.

  Bits of confetti and eggshells floated down like colorful snow, mixing with the dunk-tank water, coating the passengers with bits of brightly colored paper and eggshell, making them look as if they were covered in pixilated tattoos.

  Lying on the ground, even Abhi and I got covered with confetti.

  What happened next was unbelievable.

  From the back of the train, a confetti-coated El Pollo Loco jumped to his feet, spit a stream of water from his mouth like a fountain, and shouted, “Again! Let’s go AGAIN! That was the best ride ever!”

  CHAPTER 29

  PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT’S IN FRONT OF YOU

  I stood and reached out my hand to a dazed Abhi, lying on the field. She gripped mine tightly as I pulled her up.

  “Are you okay, Abhi?” I steadied her with my hand on her shoulder.

  “I think so.” She brushed grass and confetti off her shirt and arms. “Thank you, Zack.”

  I stood with Abhi and watched a speckled and soaked Coach Ostraticki help Mrs. Darling up, while Nurse Patty made sure no one was hurt.

  “What happened?” Abhi touched a small cut on her cheek.

  “The train lost control and was about to run you over.” I looked right in her eyes this time, as Cliché had said. Paying attention to what’s in front of me was easy because Abhi’s eyes kept me there. “I had to push you out of the way.”

  “I see.” Abhi paused, rubbing her arm.

  We stared at the debris all over the field. People climbed off the train, soaked and coated, but okay.

  “I’m sorry I knocked you down, though.” I gulped. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say next.

  Blythe and her dad walked by.

  We turned and watched Mr. Balboa side-hug his shivering daughter. Blythe bent down and picked up some of the shreds of her cardigan, coated with mud and confetti. “I need a new sweater.” She bawled on her Dad’s shoulder.

  “Anything you want, baby.” Mr. Balboa held on tight. “I’m just so glad everyone’s all right.”

  I rocked back and forth, heal to toe. “I’ve also been meaning to thank you, Abhi, for saving me from being tram-pled to death on cinnamon roll day. You’re a real shero.”

  Abhi beamed—and beamed wasn’t just another word to use instead of smiled. She actually beamed, like the sun. “Well, we’re even now, aren’t we?”

  “Sure.” I shrugged my right shoulder. And the way she looked back at me, I think she thought I was beaming too. And it was this great moment: I didn’t hear or see anything else around us. I was just there. Abhi and I.

  Which is why it was even more shocking when Dilum suddenly shoved between us. “Why you little …”

  “Stop it!” Abhi interrupted. “This boy was just trying to get me out of the way of the train, so I wouldn’t get flattened.”

  Dilum eyed me for a few seconds. Then he nodded and stuck out his hand.

  We shook. He gripped way too hard and pulled me close. With his other hand he poked two fingers at his eyes, reminding me he’d be watching.

  I nodded that I understood.

  Dilum walked off, yelling to one of his friends, “Hey, wait up!”

  “I’m sorry.” Abhi said. “Dilum is a very protective big brother.”

  “I understand.” I said.

  “You do?” Abhi looked at me.

  “No, not really.” I shrugged. “I don’t have an
y brothers or sisters.”

  “Brothers can be such a pain.” Abhi smiled. “But it would be lonely without any.”

  I nodded and took a deep breath. “But I’m the one who isn’t done saying, ‘I’m sorry.’”

  Abhi tilted her head. “You already did.”

  “But I didn’t say I was sorry about the whole dodgeball thing. I never meant to hurt you then either.” My voice got louder and faster. “I never even tried to hit you.”

  She nodded.

  “I’m not that good of shot.” I touched my chest. “Ask anybody.”

  “It’s true.” El Pollo Loco ran past us, aggressively pointing his thumbs at the ground. “He’s the worst.”

  “Hey,” I snapped at José, “can you give us a minute?”

  “Chill out, Captain Underpants,” José said, moon-walking off. “I’ll catch you on the flipside.”

  Abhi pulled her hair behind her ears. Even the confetti looked good on her.

  “It was a total accident.” I ran my hand over my head. “I was trying to miss you on purpose but not look like I was throwing the game. But I’m so bad at dodgeball that I can’t even miss right. I felt so bad that I knocked you flat on your first day. But every time I tried to talk to you, everything would get all messed up. I’m so sorry I didn’t say I was sorry.”

  “I guess I accept your apology then for not apologizing.” Abhi nodded, giggling. “And I also forgive you for being a terrible shot.”

  But I wasn’t done yet.

  “And I’m sorry for being such a goofball in the cafeteria with my pants and saying so much stupid stuff. I just wanted to get to know you, that’s all.” Once I started, I couldn’t stop apologizing.

  Abhi smiled. “It’s okay. Some of my best friends are goofballs.”

  All I had had to do was be honest. It felt good. It was like everything was okay and we could just talk. Except for one thing: I didn’t know what else to say after I apologized. I hadn’t thought that through. My mind started to spin like a hamster on a wheel. But then I stopped it. I took a breath. I remembered: pay attention to what’s in front of you.

  I looked right at Abhi, searching through my brain to find something to say, but my search engine came back: “no results found.”

  She waited for me to talk. What was I supposed to say? I had never gotten that far. I’d waited so long to finally talk to Abhi that once I had the chance, I didn’t know what else to say.

  Abhi broke the silence. “I thought you hated me because I was different.”

  “No.” My jaw dropped. “I don’t hate you. Not at all.”

  We stood in the silence of our misunderstandings. Then I said something really lame. “I think people from Minnesota are fine.”

  Abhi cracked a smile.

  #HumorSaves.

  “That’s good to know.” Abhi swallowed a laugh.

  She looked back at me—right in my eyes. “I think you saved my life.”

  I smiled.

  Then, Abhi walked up to me and gave me a hug.

  CHAPTER 30

  JUST MY LUCK

  After a few seconds, El Pollo Loco tapped on my shoulder, interrupting my hug with Abhi. “May I cut in?”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s okay.” Abhi said, turning. “He’s my friend too.” She patted José’s shoulder.

  José quickly touched his head on Abhi’s shoulder. “Awww, thanks!” Then he ran off.

  I squinted. “We’re friends?”

  “Of course we are, Zack. Besides, I’m new here and I could obviously use more friends.” She motioned her head at El Pollo Loco, who was now running around the field like the crazy chicken he would always be.

  “Bwalk, Bwalk!” He squawked. “I am El Pollo Loco, the official mascot of the Fall Fiesta-val. BW—AAAALK!”

  “Unauthorized mascot, I might add.” Mr. Akins used his bullhorn again.

  Things were getting back to normal.

  Marquis ran up, a rubber chicken still in his hand. “Zack, are you okay?”

  “Yes, we are.” I answered, smiling. “Marquis, this is my friend, Abhi.” I motioned to Abhi.

  “Nice to meet you, Marquis.” Abhi reached out her hand.

  “Same here,” Marquis shook her hand and looked back and forth at Abhi and me, trying to figure out what had happened while he was gone.

  “Marquis is my best friend.” I patted his shoulder.

  “Well, any friend of Zack’s is a friend of mine,” Abhi smiled. “After all, he saved my life.”

  “What?” Marquis asked.

  “I’ll tell you all about it on the way home.”

  “M’man Zack will always surprise you.” Marquis flashed a grin.

  “Marquis!” Cliché ran up between Marquis and Abhi. “I was so scared. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah! I was looking for you too,” Marquis said. “I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried about you.”

  “You were?” Cliché clutched her chest, catching her breath. “That’s the nicest thing I’ve heard all day.”

  A confetti-coated El Pollo Loco joined the group. “You did Champ the Choo-Choo proud today, Zack.” El Pollo Loco slapped me on the back, leaving a wet confetti print.

  “Thanks, José,” I said, attempting to brush myself off.

  “You may call me El,” José held up a finger. “All my friends do.”

  “El,” I said.

  Abhi snorted, which caused us all to crack up.

  “Ahhhhh!” Janie suddenly appeared, her hands pressed together in a triangle, observing, nodding. “It all happened just as I predicted.” She bushed her hands together. “Madame Bustamante’s work here is done.” She held out her hands as if she had made it all happen. And as I thought about it, she had.

  I stared at Janie in her fortune-telling getup for a few seconds. And then I did it. I told the truth. It had been right in front of me for a while now. “And here’s my friend Janie.” It confused Janie at first, but she recovered quickly and curtsied. Yes, curtsied. She was still Janie.

  “Davy Crockett Middle School is one crazy place.” Abhi nodded, looking around at everyone, coated and stum-bling in the wet mess. “It wasn’t like this in Minnesota.”

  “Welcome to my world.” I motioned at the whole field, the whole big wonderful mess.

  Abhi smiled.

  Behind Marquis and Cliché, I spotted a cascarone on the ground. I don’t know how, but in all the crashing and flooding and panicking, this one cascarone had survived—completely whole and undamaged.

  If that wasn’t luck, then I didn’t know what was. And there it was—right in front of me. I walked over, leaned down, and gently scooped up the only surviving cascarone. I skulked up behind Marquis and Cliché, who were deep in conversation. I lifted the last cascarone above Marquis’s head and brought it down, smashing it and rubbing the mess into my best friend’s hair.

  “Not my ’fro!” Marquis pulled back, pushing me away with his hands, but the deed was done.

  ‘It looks good on you.” Cliché smiled, turning her head. “Very festive. And it was free!” Cliché high-fived me. “I think there will be enough cascarone bits everywhere for us to remember this day for a long time to come.”

  The day I finally got to know Abhi, I thought. We were even friends. She’d said so. I wanted to remember that for sure.

  I have to admit I did smash the first egg, but it was Janie who first picked up a handful of the wet confetti mess and flung it into the middle of our group.

  Then, of course, José—or El—swiped up a handful of muddy cascarone bits off the ground and heaved it at me. And suddenly we hurled cascarone chum like we were in a food fight in a movie. Laughing, throwing, and accidentally bringing in new victims and throwers, the cascarone fight spread like chicken pox.

  “Studens, please cease and desist with the all cascarone-related nonsense. SQUEEEEAL.” Mr. Akins blasted on his bullhorn.

  “What about other kinds of nonsense?” the cascarone-coated El questioned.

>   Mr. Akins’s sighed into the bullhorn, which screeched so loud he dropped it on the wet grass.

  “Mic drop!” El yelled.

  We laughed. Because we knew the nonsense would never really stop. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever. Not at Davy Crockett Middle School, home of the Fighting Alamos, where the school mascot was a building. Not with Madame Bustamante and El Pollo Loco and Cliché and Marquis and me.

  And now Abhi.

  Things will always be happening. Some may seem like good luck and others like bad luck. But it really isn’t about all that. It’s about what you do with what’s in front of you. That’s what makes life happen. And everything may not turn out exactly the way we want, but it can still be good.

  Like today.

  And that’s enough.

  As long as I’m paying attention to what’s in front of me, I’ll be ready for whatever crazy thing comes next.

  IN GRATITUDE

  One thing Zack discovers in Just My Luck is that there is so much wonderful stuff going on in the world all the time, and it’s right in front of him, if he’ll only get out of his worrying mind. Writing Zack’s stories takes me out of my worrying mind and gives me hope. If I make a child laugh, I feel important and I stop worrying, if only for a moment. I have to thank my readers, young and old. It’s been fun sharing Zack’s stories with you and hearing your own. Kudos to the librarians, administrators, teachers, and booksellers, who work tirelessly to get books like the Zack Delacruz series in the hands of those who need it most. You make this work so worthwhile.

  Thanks to all of you who share your lives, on a daily basis, and take me out of my worrying mind and into the beautiful world: Lisa, Gino, Sam, Wiley, Monica, Heather, Edie, Ricky, Brandy, and of course, always my first editor and best friend, Terry. Always.

  I am grateful to the children’s book writing community. Your kindness and grace have meant the world to me. I hope to keep connecting, sharing, and presenting with you for years to come. Thank you for inviting me in. I need you.

  None of this is possible without the keen insight of my editor, Brett Duquette. He’s a cheerleader and smarty-pants extraordinaire. Andrea Miller your art is only surpassed by your kindness and class. Thanks to my agent Roseanne Wells, who is a great reader of early drafts. I am so lucky to get to work with the Sterling Publishing family. It doesn’t even feel like work (most of the time). Lauren, Sari, Theresa, Hanna, Chris, Scott, Irene, and Trudi, where would I be without your tireless support? Thank you.