Page 3 of Late Bloomer
“I just think it could be so good for our sound for us to travel together. Explore the world more, you know?”
“Yeah, for sure,” I reply, blinking against the odd pressurebuilding behind my nose and eyes as I scratch off another square. Probably allergies and not at all a tragically broken heart.
“And, like, maybe you could house-sit for me while I’m gone? Like water my plants and feed my fish and stuff? It would let you get out of your parents’ place for a bit.”
I open my mouth to give Laney my auto-response that I’ll help however she needs when my attention snags on the cleared card in front of me. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, then open them, my heavy heart suddenly beating a little faster. A little wilder.
This can’t be right.
Laney is still talking, but it’s an incoherent buzz with all the blood rushing in my ears. With shaking hands, I lift the piece of cardstock, almost pressing my nose to it as I scan the tiny print over and over again.
“Opal, did you hear what I said?” Laney asks, waving her hand in front of my face.
I blink at her, so rapidly little silver stars swim across my vision.
“I can’t cover your shift tonight,” I say, jolting up to stand.
“What?” Laney snaps. “Why?”
“Because I just won the fucking lottery.”
Chapter 2OPAL
“I won the fucking lottery!” I screech, busting through Olivia’s door like the Kool-Aid Man on uppers.
Both Ophelia and Olivia scream. But in the terrified, home-invasion type of way and not the holy-shit-this-is-such-exciting-life-changing-news way I was hoping for.
“I think I’m having a heart attack,” Ophelia says, clutching her chest.
“You and me both,” Olivia responds, taking a generous gulp of wine.
“I’m sorry, but did you not hear me?” I say, shutting the door with my foot and bouncing into the apartment. “I. Won. The. Lottery.”
My sisters slow-blink at me.
“Like the actual lottery?” Olivia asks.
“I won,” I whisper, getting way too close to Olivia’s face. “Five hundredthousanddollars.”
I punch my fist into the air, brandishing the ticket.
The room is silent for a few seconds.
Then all three of us erupt into screams. The screaming goes on and on, amplified by our jumping, gasping, and crying as we take turns holding the ticket. Olivia’s downstairs neighbor starts beating on their ceiling with a broom handle, but nothing can burst our bubble.
When we finally shout ourselves hoarse, I walk them through the wildest hour of my life.
“I can’t believe this,” Ophelia says, draping herself across the couch.
“I can’t either,” I echo, plopping down on the floor and grabbing my phone out of my pocket as it dings.
Yikes. I have a ton of missed texts from Laney.
SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!! THIS IS AMAZING
YOU SOOOOOO DESERVE THIS
Don’t forget who got you that ticket;)
