“What does that mean?” I asked.
“What does what mean?”
“The eyebrow wiggle.”
“It means you like him.”
“No, I don’t,” I said, hating that I was blushing. “And even if I did, he doesn’t feel the same way.”
“Wait, so you do?” Blaire asked.
“No, there’s nothing going on!” I protested.
“But you want there to be,” Elise said.
“No, we are just zoo friends.”
“Zoo friends? That sounds like a kid’s cartoon,” Elise said. “But there better not be anything going on. I just broke up with my boyfriend for our pact. You don’t get to break the rules now.”
“I thought you broke up with him because he had a small head.”
“Well, that, too.”
“Did you find out what a round of bowling is called?” Blaire asked.
“What? Oh.” I held my phone back up and finished looking through the terms. “Nope. We need a bowling for dummies site because this only defines the we’re-expert-bowlers terms. It’ll be okay,” I added, petting Blaire’s arm. “They’ll only think we’re stupid for a second.”
Blaire laughed, which was a good sign. Sometimes comments like that made her get defensive. She pulled into the parking lot and found a space.
“How many games do you want?” the guy behind the counter asked.
Elise and I looked at each other and said, “Games!” at the exact same time. Then we cracked up.
Blaire stared at the guy. “That’s really what a round of bowling is called? A game?”
Jerry, according to his name tag, looked confused. “Yes?”
“Can we get two games?” I asked. “And then add more if we want to keep playing?”
“Sure. Or you can reserve the lane for an hour or more and play as many as you want in your time frame.”
“Yes, an hour sounds perfect. Can we do that?” I asked my friends.
They shrugged and nodded.
“We want an hour.” I looked behind me at the row of lanes and located the number on the far wall. “On lane thirteen.”
“Lucky number thirteen it is.”
Thirteen hadn’t been lucky for me, but I could still remember all the numbers that were. That ticket was burned into my memory. 2, 15, 23, 75, 33, 7. Maybe I should’ve picked one of those lanes. I felt like I owed those numbers some loyalty after all they’d done for me.
“That’ll be thirty-one dollars and sixty-seven cents,” Jerry said.
I raised my hand, “I got this.” I whipped out my credit card, the one that was going to tide me over while waiting for actual money to appear in my bank account.
“But we are supposed to take you out,” Elise said. “For your birthday.”
“You are taking me out. I’m just paying for it.”
Elise gave me a side hug. “Then we get to buy you ice cream after.”
“Deal,” I said. We each grabbed our shoes and headed for lane thirteen.
We were horrible bowlers. More than horrible. There were probably toddlers better at bowling than we were. Okay, maybe all of us weren’t horrible. Elise was doing halfway decent. She’d gotten one strike. But Blaire and I hadn’t come close. When our hour was almost up, Blaire asked, “Are we counting Elise’s strike for the one you mentioned you needed to achieve before quitting?”
“Of course we are,” I said, holding the ball up to my chin and eyeing the lane.
Elise smacked my butt. “Good luck, Batman.”
I laughed and took three steps forward, then almost tripped when I heard a laugh from somewhere to my left.
I glanced that way and saw Trina and a group of her friends putting shoes on several lanes over.
“Does this mean we’re partially cool?” Elise asked. “If we’re doing the same thing the popular girls are doing on a Saturday night?”
“That’s exactly what it means,” I said.
“I still don’t understand why it matters if we’re cool or not,” Blaire argued. “Because we are so far from cool that we shouldn’t even be considering what might help.”
I laughed and rolled my ball down the lane. It only knocked over four pins. “I think I just scored a grandma’s teeth,” I said.
Elise was holding her hands over a vent on the ball return that shot out cold air. “I think Maddie is cool now,” she said.
“I just used the words grandma’s teeth in a sentence. Pretty sure you’re wrong about that.”
“No, I mean, you have money. That adds at least a hundred points to your score.”
“A hundred?” Blaire asked. “Out of how many? I would assume a hundred is the max score. So by adding a hundred, you’re saying she was a zero before.”
I nodded with a smile. “I probably was.”
Blaire rolled her eyes.
“But even thirty million doesn’t give me the perfect score,” I whispered, picking up the ball for my second roll. This time my ball went straight into the gutter and slowly made its way down the lane before dropping down with a clunk at the end, no pins disturbed. “Zero!” I called out. “For sure.”
Elise looked casually over at the other lane. I did, too, but nobody was paying any attention to us.
“Zeroes for life,” Blaire said.
I laughed. “Let’s go get that ice cream you promised.”
“Thank goodness this game is finally over,” Blaire said.
I linked my arms with Blaire and Elise and watched the other group of girls as we walked past. They didn’t seem much different than us. Maybe we were all zeroes in our own ways. This thought made them seem more approachable. Maybe all this time I’d thought of them as above me, when really we were all pretty much the same.
The first person to say something to me Monday morning at school was a girl with red hair and braces. She’d looked at me as we passed in the hall, then did a double take. “Hey! I saw you last night. Congratulations!”
I waved in confusion and kept walking.
The next was a guy from my math class two years ago. His name was Lincoln. “They said you went to our school. I didn’t believe it. But here you are. Can I borrow five bucks?” He laughed at his own joke and rotated to face me as I kept walking.
Then my phone started dinging with notifications. People from school were tagging me with congratulatory messages. My followers on each of my accounts were increasing exponentially.
I ducked around the first corner I came to and dialed my mom.
She answered on the fourth ring. “Hey, baby, I’m at work so be fast.”
“Did the news run the story?”
“What?”
“That news reporter that called you? You told him I didn’t want to do the story, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I think they went ahead with it anyway.”
She let out a little grunt. “Oh no. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about the fact that they might run it without the interview.”
“Why did they wait a week to air it?”
“I didn’t watch the piece. Maybe they did other interviews and had to coordinate those, or follow up with their facts to make sure they were correct. I don’t know. Are you okay?” Mom asked.
“Yes, I will be. I think. I was just surprised.”
“I have to run. We’ll talk more about this at home,” she said.
“Okay.”
I hung up and texted Elise and Blaire: Meet me in the library. Stat.
Two more people called out “Congrats!” to me on my walk to the library. I kept my head down and practically ran.
Both Elise and Blaire were waiting in the tiled entry when I walked in.
“Is everything okay?” Blaire asked.
“Did you watch the news last night?”
“No,” Blaire said.
Elise shook her head.
“I think they did a story about me.”
“What kind of story?” Blaire asked.
“Is that a
real question?”
She scowled. “About the lottery?”
“Yes.”
Elise grabbed my hand in support. “What makes you think that?”
“The half a dozen people who’ve said hi to me this morning.”
“That’s not normal?” Elise asked with a laugh.
My phone dinged again with an Instagram message. It was a picture of the back of me, taken minutes ago in the hall. The caption: The lottery winner goes to my school!
I held up my phone so they could both see. “Guys, I’m freaking out here.”
Elise forced a serious face. “Sorry.”
“Let’s talk this through,” Blaire said. “Let’s say they ran a story about you last night. What’s the worst thing that can happen?”
“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my phone. “The entire school starts talking to me.”
“That’s the worst?”
“Or maybe someone kidnaps me and demands I pay them millions of dollars to let me free.”
Elise nodded slowly. “That’s a better worst-case scenario.”
“Do you think that’s ever happened to a lottery winner before?”
Blaire scrunched her nose. “I have no idea. But I don’t think that’s going to happen to you. This is what is going to happen: You’ll be this interesting story around school for a little while and then something new will happen and people will forget about it.”
“You think so?”
“Yes. And in the meantime, Elise and I will be your bodyguards.”
“If my bodyguards weren’t always busy doing other things, I might feel better.”
“You could hire a real bodyguard if you’re that worried,” Elise said.
I knew she was semi-joking but I thought about that possibility. Was I scared enough to hire a bodyguard? I really wasn’t. It was just unexpected, going from invisible to suddenly not. I’d be fine once I got used to it.
A large envelope waited on my desk when I got home. The return address read San Diego State. My heart thumped wildly in my chest. All my countless hours of preparation had led to this. I carefully opened the flap and slid out the stapled pages inside.
A cover letter, my name at the top, greeted me. I read each word carefully.
“Accepted,” I whispered. I’d been worried for nothing. San Diego wasn’t my top choice, but I had a choice now. And a way to pay for it.
I called Blaire.
“Hello,” she answered on the second ring.
“Let’s go dorm room shopping.”
“It’s March. We have like five months.”
“But I just got my first acceptance letter and I won the lottery and I want to buy things.”
She laughed. “Most girls would go on a makeover shopping spree if they won the lottery.”
“Oh.” I stopped when I realized I was petting my acceptance letter. “Well, we can do that when I officially have the money if you want.”
Blaire just laughed.
“No, seriously. Will you go shopping with me tonight?” There was something about the whole school knowing about the lottery now that made it more real. I might not have officially had the money in the bank yet, but it was finally sinking in. I was a millionaire. I’d done the math. I could spend over a thousand dollars every day for the rest of my life and never run out of money. And all I had bought were a couple of cell phones. It was time to change that.
“Sure. I have some things on my dorm room list that I need to buy,” Blaire replied.
“Do you think Elise will want to come with us?”
“She told us not to leave her out of college stuff, remember?”
“True. I’ll call her.”
IKEA was huge and we’d only covered a quarter of the store, but my cart was already half-full. I held up a strand of decorative patio lights. “Do you think this would drive a roommate crazy?”
“Are you even going to have a roommate?” Elise asked. “You can afford a private room. Or you could buy your own apartment in whichever city you end up in.”
“I want her to be my roommate,” Blaire said. “At Stanford. And yes, those lights would drive me crazy.” She took them from my hands and put them back on the shelf.
I snatched them back up and dropped them in my cart. “I’m going to UCLA.”
Blaire gave me a playful growl.
“Did you get your UCLA acceptance letter yet?” Elise asked.
“Not yet. But I will.” UCLA was the school I’d prepared my life around.
Elise held up a large black-and-white Audrey Hepburn print. “Maybe I should major in acting. Do you think I’d make a good actress?” She tried to mimic the face Audrey was making in the photo.
“You’d be an amazing actress,” I said.
“I would, wouldn’t I?”
“I thought you were going to major in nursing,” Blaire said, studying a Beatles print.
“No, I realized I hate blood. I think nurses have to love blood, right?”
I laughed and pointed at the Audrey picture. “Do you want that?”
“What?” Elise set it back on the shelf. “I don’t need decorations. You know I’m not moving into a dorm room.” She raised her hand in the air. “Community College crew right here.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t give your bedroom a dorm room makeover. I’m buying that for you.” I put the photo in my cart with the other things.
“Oh, Bruce, you spoil me.”
“Bruce?”
“You know, like Bruce Wayne. Batman.”
I laughed. “I think I liked Batman as a nickname better.” I picked up a picture of a ballerina. “We should line your walls with all your possible career choices.”
Blaire raised her eyebrows and held up a Back to the Future poster. “What about a time traveler? Is that on the short list?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Elise asked, taking the poster and putting it in the cart.
“Your room is going to be the weirdest mishmash of ideas to ever exist,” Blaire said.
“Kind of like my brain,” Elise said, adding a picture of a row of construction workers sitting on a beam high in the air.
I tilted my head to get a closer look.
“What? I could be good with a hammer. I’ve never tried.”
I laughed and pushed the cart forward. “You know what I’ve always wanted but could never afford?”
“What?” Elise asked.
“One of those hanging chairs.”
“The kind that look like a cocoon?” Blaire asked.
“Yes, my turn-into-a-butterfly pod. Do you think they have those here?”
“They have everything here,” Elise said, throwing out her arms and spinning a circle in the wide aisle. “This is the place where dreams are found.”
I let out a whoop. “Then let’s go find some more dreams.”
“Congratulations, Maddie! I wasn’t sure you’d be here today,” Carol said when I arrived at work and found her sitting at a metal table outside the café.
“Oh.” For some reason I hadn’t thought about the fact that zoo people would know about my win, too. How many people still watched the news? “Um … can you not tell everyone about it?”
“You don’t think they’ll all know?” Carol asked, frowning.
I shrugged. “I’d just like to do the telling when I can.”
She did the locking motion on her lips. “Consider my lips sealed.”
“And yes, I still want to stay on, if that’s okay,” I added. I liked working. Especially at the zoo. “Maybe I can switch over to volunteer status or something.” I knew my measly paycheck wouldn’t make the zoo suddenly flush with cash, but anything would help them out, and I didn’t need the money anymore.
“Come to my office after your shift and we’ll discuss. I’m happy to still have you.” Carol paused for a minute. “Well, unless you become a distraction. If guests start recognizing you and causing commotion, we’ll have to figure something out.”
“Causi
ng commotion?”
“You know how people get around celebrities.”
“I’m not a celebrity.”
She referred to her clipboard again. “I have you in meal prep today.”
“Okay, sounds good.” I toed a crack in the pavement by my foot. “Is Seth here yet?” I wondered if he saw the news. If he was mad that I hadn’t told him myself. I hoped not.
“No. He hasn’t checked in. I’m putting him with Lance, who will be showing the macaw.”
“Right. Okay.”
“Congratulations again,” Carol said. “It’s good to be eighteen, isn’t it?”
I laughed. “Yes.” I pivoted and headed for my station.
A few minutes later, I heard feet slapping concrete and turned to see Seth catching up with me.
“Was Carol congratulating you for turning eighteen?” he asked.
“Yes. Wait, what?”
“Carol.”
There was something about his easy smile, his unassuming question, the lack of the starstruck eyes I’d seen on so many people lately that led me to realize he didn’t know. He still had no idea I’d won the lottery. He must not have had access to a phone or television still. That would be the only logical explanation. “Um … sure.”
“Did you ask her to give you a raise?”
“Yep. She’s doubling my salary.”
“Lucky. Speaking of turning eighteen, how did the rest of your birthday go? I forgot to ask the other day. Did you and your friends finish the night out strong?”
“I have no idea what that means,” I said.
He laughed. “Me neither. You weren’t supposed to call me out on it.”
I smiled. “My birthday was fine.” I closed my eyes. “Okay, no it wasn’t.”
“Now who’s being confusing?”
“My friends never showed up.” After winning the lottery, I felt like I couldn’t complain about this to anyone else.
Seth’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you tell me that night?”
“I felt stupid. They all had reasons, but at the time, I didn’t know those reasons, and, long story short, I spent the night by myself.”
“That really sucks. I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be. It’s not a big deal. Besides, seeing you that night was nice. And thanks for the candy. It made me feel a lot better.”