Page 40 of With a Little Luck

“I thought maybe you could help me decide what to wear today.”

Yeah—it didn’t sound quite so desperate when I was coming up with this plan. But the way Lucy’s eyes widen makes me want to take it back immediately.

She hastily ties off the braid and spins to face me. “It went well!Yes.Are you dating Maya Livingstone now?”

“What? No. We’re not … The date went well. And I just … But no.”

“But you want to be.”

“I’vealwayswanted to be.”

“Of course,” she says. “And now you need to act the part and impress her. I love this!” She grabs my wrist and drags me down the hall, down two flights of stairs, into my room, where she immediately throws open my closet doors and starts pawing through the clothes messily piled up on the shelves. She yanks out a pair of green corduroy pants that Mom bought me a while back that still have the tags on them.

“Do these fit?”

“Um …”

“Put them on.” She throws them at me and keeps digging.

I change in the bathroom, and Lucy goes through three different shirt-hoodie-button-down combinations before deciding on a plain white hooded sweatshirt that I always thought was too small, but Lucy insists104is supposed to fit that way. “But keep the sleeves pushed up, like this,” she says, demonstrating the proper way to wear a sweatshirt, which I’ve evidently been failing at my entire life. Lastly she grabs a pair of black sneakers.

I make a face. “Those kind of give me blisters.”

“Then wear thicker socks.”

I frown. “I thought …”

“What?”

“I mean. I didn’t think you’re supposed to wear socks with those? But … okay.” I open a drawer and pull out a pair of socks. When I turn back around to take the shoes, Lucy yanks them away from me, her expression horrified.

“No-show socks, Jude! You’re supposed to wear them with …” She lets out a disgruntled noise and casts her eyes skyward. “You are so lucky to have me.”

I’m doubting this, but don’t say as much.

She digs through my drawer and finds a pair of short white socks. Another gift from Mom that I’ve never worn, because … they were so short. What’s the point of socks that short?

Turns out, the point is to wear them with these shoes.

Lucy declares me ready. I grab my dice, and we head back upstairs so I can take a look in her full-length mirror.

And I’m … underwhelmed?

I mean, I look different, and not bad. But I’m not sure it’senough.

The reflection still looks like me. Indistinct blond hair. Too-big lips. Too-pasty skin. Just in a more hipster packaging now.

“It was slim pickings I was working with,” says Lucy, standing back with her arms folded, inspecting me. “But it’s an improvement. We’ll have to go shopping this weekend.”

“Shopping?”

“You asked for a makeover.”

“I did not—”105

“Don’t argue with me.” She gives me one more once-over, then nods approvingly. “All right! Let’s go to school!”

I’m still skeptical, until we head to the kitchen, where the rest of my family is waiting at the breakfast table.

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