Page 55 of With a Little Luck

“How dare Matt abandon us!”

These are the first words out of Noah’s mouth as they burst into my house. They start unlacing their knee-high boots to leave by the door, even though literally no one else takes off their shoes when they come to our house. “And for something as cliché as making money? What kind of priority is that? I am so embarrassed to be related to him. I’m seriously considering disowning him for this. I also have half a mind to boycott that fish and chips place and—” Noah looks up for the first time and notices that we are not alone in the foyer. That it isn’t César or Russell or Kyle at my side. Noah draws up short. “Hello, new person.”

“Noah, this is Maya. Maya, Noah.”

Noah peels off the boots and sets them by the front door before shaking Maya’s hand.

“You don’t go to Fortuna Beach, do you?” Maya asks.

“No. Orange Bay Science Academy.”

“Noah is Matt’s cousin,” I offer, by way of explanation. “Matt Kolden?”

To which Noah adds, “Except I’m disowning him, because he ditched us.” They tilt their head, studying Maya. “Are you Matt’s replacement?”

Maya glances at me, uncertain, and I’m saved from answering by another ring of the doorbell.

The rest of the group is on the front porch. I usher them inside, and we all crowd into the foyer that blends into our family’s living room. I try to introduce everyone to Maya, but my nerves are getting to me, and I138can tell that Maya is doing her best to not be overwhelmed by new names and new faces and—

Yeah, let’s take a breather. Check in. How areyoudoing? Feeling overwhelmed by all the new additions to this story?

Okay, let’s get through this. For the fanartists.

We’ve got César. Mexican American, with a wave of brown hair that tends to have a mind of its own. He’s skinny, like me, but he’s the first to point out that he could whoop me in an arm-wrestling contest any day of the week. Not that we’ve actually done that. In the game, he plays Goren the Gruesome, an impulsive human sorcerer with a taste for bloodshed and violence. (But in real life, he’s a nice guy, I promise.)

Russell and Kyle are both sophomores at our school, and have been friends since Kyle moved to Fortuna Beach in middle school. Despite being a year younger than me, Russell looks like a full-on adult. He’s pale and hairy, built like a football player with an honest-to-godbeard, just like his author idol, George R. R. Martin. His character is Celryn the Grave, a shadow elf monk who is easily the most logical member of the group, and tries his best to keep the others focused on whatever they’re supposed to be doing.

Kyle, his best friend, is Korean American, and if you ask my younger sisters, they’ll tell you he’s the cutest of all my friends, with shaggy black hair and an ear piercing. He is also emphatically cheerful, not unlike his forest gnome druid, Querth Nulga.

Lastly, we’ve got Noah, who is the most recent addition, having joined the group last fall at Matt’s insistence. Noah is pale like me, with short, spiky hair that is currently dyed violet, though they are always changing it. Noah is a senior, and thus the oldest of our group, but they’re also the shortest, which could be why they chose to play a badass halfling rogue named Starling Morve.

And then there’s Maya. You know her already. Beautiful. Confident. Girl of my dreams. Also, evidently, playing a tiefling fighter named Grit Stonesplitter, and yes, my fingers are totally itching to sketch out her character as soon as possible.139

And oh … hey! I’m Jude. Should we have done this sooner? Sorry about that. I am pale and scrawny and self-conscious about my lips, which Pru says make me look like a pouty male model, which I just cannot accept is a compliment. I am tall, though. It’s fun being tall. Cute old ladies at the grocery store look at you like you’re Superman when you grab the pickles off the top shelf for them and you don’t even have to stand on your tiptoes. That’s pretty great.

Cool. Got it? Moving on.

Everyone already sort of knows Maya, at least in passing—except for Noah. But Noah is outgoing and talkative and all the things I wish I could be, so by the time we’re all settled in at the card tables downstairs, most hints of strange newness have evaporated. Noah is explaining why Starling abandoned their previous group of bandits to join our little family of misfits, and Kyle is talking excitedly about the last campaign, when Querth saved the whole gang by translating a Druidic riddle and figuring out how to stop a deadly nest of sentient vines that had captured the group, and César is insisting that he helped, too (he didn’t), and Russell is giving me an impatient look like he’s regretting not bringing a book to read while we get through all the social niceties.

And Maya looks … nervous, I guess. But not in awhat am I doing here?way. More like in athis is new, but I’m here for itway.

I know there was a time, like a hundred pages ago, when you were thinking,Dude, why do you like this girl so much?

But you get it now, right?

“Okay,” I say, opening up my notebook to the pages and pages of notes I’ve made for our new campaign. “We left off with Starling, Goren, Celryn, Querth, and Brawndo at Bork’s Tavern and Inn in the small village of Talusia. As you all make your way down for supper one afternoon, the bartender calls Querth over and hands him a letter.”

“Oh, yes, I love getting mail!” Kyle says, in his chipper Querth voice. “I take the letter back to the group and read it.”

I nod. “Querth reads the letter aloud,” I say, then drop my voice in an attempt to mimic how Matt would always speak for his character,140Brawndo. I feel silly at first, with Maya listening in, but I figure—if we’re doing this, we’re doing this.

My good friends,

Though our adventures have been a source of pride, camaraderie, and occasional riches, it is time for me to fulfill my destiny. I have gone to join the king’s army in order to fight in the southern war. I will find you again once the war is through. Until then, farewell, and do not follow Goren into any unfamiliar dungeons. As history has shown us, it is always a terrible idea.

Yours,

Brawndo

---