Page 83 of With a Little Luck

I can’t make sense of it.

As the emcee wraps up their time on the Albatross Stage, it all feels a little anticlimactic. People pack up their blankets and head back into211the festival before the booths close, or to catch one last performance on another stage, or to head home after a long day of music and festivities.

Ari leaves the stage. She’s stopped by dozens of people as she makes her way across the lawn. Congratulations and handshakes. As she gets closer, I catch some of their comments. How much they loved her song. And at least one person telling her they thought she should have won.

Ari smiles graciously and accepts their compliments, all the while clutching her second place award to her chest.

I know it isn’t logical, but a part of me can’t help but feel like I let her down.

So much for being her good luck charm.

212

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“I’m not disappointed,” Ari insists as we make our way back tothe car. The sun is setting, and a rush of people are pouring out of the festival around us. “Second place, out ofallthe entries that were submitted? This is the best thing that could have happened to help me kickstart a real songwriting career.”

“Second best thing,” Ezra amends. “Winning, obviously, would have been the best thing.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Second best thing. My point is that it feels really good to be recognized. People like my song! I’m thrilled.”

“As you should be,” says Maya.

“But also—you should have won,” adds Ezra. “And we all know it. You were robbed.”

“Or at least,sheshouldn’t have,” Maya mutters. The thought we’ve all been thinking.

“It was rigged,” says Ezra, like it is an inarguable fact.

Maya shoots him a warning look. “Just because we didn’t like it—”

“No, nuh-uh. This is not an issue of subjectivity or whatever. Everyone in that audience heard all ten finalists, and I’m telling you, every one of them thought hers was the worst. Because it was! It shouldn’t have even been a finalist to begin with.” He clicks his tongue. “Someone was pulling strings, and Ari got robbed.”

I frown, considering. I’m not usually one for conspiracy theories, but213in this case, it almost seems more plausible than believingthatsong was chosen as the winner.

“Who were the judges?” EZ asks.

Ari shakes her head. “I don’t know. The contest page just said it would be voted on by industry professionals.”

EZ hums knowingly. “I bet you anything she’s got some rich uncle on the judges’ panel or something.”

“You don’t know that,” says Ari, but her expression … pursed lips, shadowed eyes. She feels the same way we do, even if she’s morally opposed to openly criticizing another musical artist.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “You were great, Ari. The crowd loved you.”

She smiles. “It was nerve-racking. But thanks.” She sighs heavily. “I understand why songwriters have to perform our own music to get noticed, but … I can’t wait until I can just hand the songs over to a professional and let them do the scary part.”

We pile into the car—Maya and I in the back again, and Ari driving, even though Ezra offers to take the wheel. Then we sit in the parking lot for half an hour waiting for the line of cars to move. Darkness creeps quickly across the sky, and by the time we’re pulling onto the road, Ari has her headlights on.

We’re mostly quiet for the long drive. Just freeways and semitrucks and the moon appearing through the darkness.

Quiet, that is, except for EZ, who must have an allergic reaction to silence, since he fills the void of conversation and playlists by voicing every inane thought that pops into his head.

“Anyone else want to move to Michigan and apply for a license to hunt unicorns? That’s a real thing. Not that I want to kill a unicorn. I’m not amonster. But I would like the paperwork that says I’m allowed to, if I so choose.

“Who do you think was the first person to eat lobster? I mean, seriously? Who looks at that freaky monster from the sea, with its shell and its claws and its creepy antennae things, and thinks … I bet that isdelicious?214

“Did you know that humans grow two meters of nose hair in the course of a lifetime? How awesome would it be if they never fell out and we all had nose hair hanging down to our toes? Jude, you should putthatin one of your comics.”

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