The Odds of Lightning (3 page)

“Greetings, earthlings,” Tobias said. He pulled a rubber band at the base of the hand, and the fingers contracted in a wave. “Nathaniel. William. Luella.” Luella snickered. Tobias stopped on Tiny. The hand reached over and patted her on the head. “Tiny,” he said. She was at least two feet shorter than he was.

“Am not,” Tiny said.

“Are too.”

Tiny felt her cheeks turn pink.

“Am.
Not.
”

Tobias laughed. “Bye, Tiny!”

“Shut up, Tobias!” Nathaniel called after him.

But it was too late. Her head wasn't the only thing Tobias had held in his robotic hand. He had plucked her from obscurity. He had noticed something special about her—even something as dumb and insignificant as not growing as fast as the others—and he had shone a light on
her.

He was now holding her heart, too.

  *  *  *  

“Are you going to submit it to the lit mag?” Luella was still trying to read the poem over Tiny's shoulder.

“I don't know. Probably not.” Tiny blinked. It was amazing how much of your life could be defined by one singular memory. Ever since that day, she had been Tiny.

“You totally should. How cool would it be to write this amazing poem and have everyone know it's yours?”

“This one's private. The only way I'd submit this is if I did it anonymously.”

“If you say so,” said Luella. “I love being the center of attention. I'd want all that glory.” Luella smiled to herself and hummed under her breath.

“Luella,” Tiny said. “What's up with you today? You are acting like you do when you have a secret.”

“I don't have a secret,” Luella said, and kept humming.

“Uh, yes, you totally do!”

“Do not.” Luella stuffed a piece of candy into her mouth and crunched down audibly.

“Okay, weirdo.” Tiny nudged her with her elbow. “You always hum when you have a secret.” They sat in silence for a minute or two. Well, silence, except for Luella's crunching and the sound of heat thunder rumbling in the distance.

“Hey,” Tiny said, swinging her feet out. “How are you and your mom doing? With the move-out and everything?”

“Fine,” Luella said absently.

“Fine?”

“Just trying not to think about it.”

“Oh,” Tiny said. “Yeah. Okay.” She struggled to think of something else to say. Luella was clearly done with the subject. “So, I have an idea about tonight. It combines two of our traditions: meeting up for gelato, and the thing I've never done before.”

“Oooh.” That got Luella's attention. “Tell me.”

“Well, okay. Tobias leaves for Boston tomorrow and has to get some final data to submit with his interdisciplinary course proposal for EAPS. Something about climate change and cities and electrical energy. Nathaniel asked if we wanted to go with him to the Brooklyn Bridge and watch. It'll be very Benjamin Franklin.”

Luella looked skeptical.

“Yeah, okay. Maybe.”

“Luella! You mean no, don't you?”

“I mean maybe. But, Tiny, here's the thing. We start high school tomorrow. Tobias is going to college. Isn't it time to get over him? Put him behind you and start the year fresh?”

Tiny frowned. “I'm fine. I don't need to put him behind me.”

Luella grabbed the notebook. “What's this? I see his name! In your di-a-ry.” Tiny grabbed the notebook back.

“It's not a diary. It's a poetry
journal.
”

“Whatever. Well, then maybe just bite the bullet and tell him you like him already and want to have ten thousand of his little genius babies.” Luella bit down on a piece of candy. Hard. It broke in half.

“Er. Maybe,” Tiny said, meaning no. But Luella was getting excited.

“Yes!
That's
the thing you've never done before! I'll go tonight if you do that!”

“I'm not going to do that.”

“Then my answer is still
maybe
.”

Tiny eyed her. “Why are you being so mysterious? Do you have other big plans tonight that you're not telling me about?”

“No.”

“Is that why you're acting all weird?”

“
No
.”

“Because we have to check off all of our traditions! If we don't, life will have no meaning!”

Luella snorted. “I thought I was supposed to be the drama queen.”

“Luella, pleeease. It's the last night of summer. Tomorrow is high school. It's not going to be like this forever. Tonight is, like, pivotal. I need you!
Promise
!
”

“God, Tiny, yeah, I promise.”

Maybe Tiny would tell him tonight. Maybe it was her last chance before he went away to college and she started high school and everything in her life changed.

Luella walked back across the park, thinking about what Tiny said.
Tomorrow is high school. It's not going to be like this forever.

If you took away traditions, did life really have no meaning? Were things supposed to stay the same, always? Was she supposed to want them to? Tiny clearly did, but Luella wasn't so sure. She was excited about making way for the new. She was ready to let go of some things from the past.

Suddenly, the way one memory will sometimes flash at you while you're trying to remember something else, a scene from finals week popped into Luella's head.

She and Tiny had been sitting cross-legged in the fifth-floor hallway, their backs up against the lockers, working through some geometry study sheets.

“I don't get this,” Tiny muttered, frustrated.

“Oh, hey,” Luella said. “So, my dad is leaving.”

Tiny didn't look up. “Where's he going?” she asked, erasing something and then blowing away the eraser shavings. “Somewhere on business? Anywhere cool? You should get him to take you.”

“Actually,” Luella said, “he's just leaving.” Tiny stopped scribbling and looked at Luella. Luella nibbled on her lip but didn't look up from her homework. “He's leaving us.”

“Like, moving out?” Tiny said quietly.

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god, Luella.” She put her arm around Luella's skinny shoulders, but Luella pulled away.

“No, whatever, it's cool,” she said. “It's fine. He's probably taking all the dude stuff, so Mom and I are, like, excited to redecorate, and—”

“Luella,” Tiny interrupted. “How could it be
cool
?”

“It just is,” Luella said, looking past Tiny's shoulder down the hall, as if someone more interesting were walking up.

“Luella, how can it be? Your dad's leaving. It's, like, anything but!”

“Tiny,” Luella said sharply, suddenly, turning back and focusing her green eyes on Tiny. “It just
is
.”

“But—”

“Because if it weren't, things would be so, so, so the opposite of cool. So it has to be cool. Okay? It has to be.” Tiny was looking at her like she wanted to say more, so Luella cut her off before she could. “Geometry is so fucked up,” she said. “How is this going to be remotely useful in my life? Why don't they teach us anything useful here! What about some real-life skills for a change!” She threw her notebook across the hall, where it slammed into the row of lockers, and a few people turned to look at the noise. Then Luella got up, picked up the notebook, shoved it into her backpack, and stalked off down the hall without saying good-bye.

  *  *  *  

Luella didn't know why she was thinking about it now, as she walked back across the park on this last day of summer. A lot had already been changing this summer for Luella. Things had been happening that she didn't tell Tiny about. It's not that she didn't trust her best friend. It's more that she didn't know how to put them into words. Tiny was a words person. She valued strong communications skills.

Luella was not especially strong at communicating. Or so her mother told her all the time.

She'd lied to Tiny. She did have a secret.

She kept it inside of her for now.

It had started like this.

Back at the beginning of the summer, Luella had been standing outside the Kaye Playhouse at Hunter College trying to get cell reception on her phone after her summer acting class, when some boys in glasses walked past her.

“Keebler?” She looked up, then immediately kicked herself for responding to that stupid nickname. Will had peeled off from the group and was walking toward her, grinning.

“Hey, Will.”

“I knew that name would catch on,” he said. “How could it not?”

“Beats me,” said Luella. “It's so flattering and complimentary.”

“Whatcha doing? Are you done pretending to be someone else for the day?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah. Acting class just finished. I gotta go somewhere and memorize these.” She held up a stack of pages. “I'm auditioning for the summer play.”

“What play?”

“
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
. You know it?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

Will shuffled his feet.

“Do you, like, play the cat?”

Luella squinted at him. “No.”

“Oh.”

There was a pause that lasted a few seconds too long. Will pushed his glasses up on his nose.

“Hey,” he said. “I have some homework and stuff too. Want to join forces and do our work together? I know somewhere quiet.”

Luella didn't say anything right away. She and Will had been friends since they were kids, but they usually hung out in a group with Tiny and Nathaniel. They had never hung out one-on-one before. Will blinked, waiting for an answer.

“Look, if you don't—I mean, if you're busy, it's—”

“Okay,” Luella said. She slipped her phone into the pocket of her bag.

“Really?” Will beamed.

“You don't have to throw a parade or anything. It's just homework.”

“Surly,” Will said, then turned and began walking. Luella stepped out into the glaring sun and walked quickly to catch up to him. She held her arm in front of her eyes.

“Here.” Will handed her a pair of knockoff Ray-Ban Wayfarers.

“Did you get these at Rachel's Rockin' Eighties Bat Mitzvah?” Luella said dubiously, looking at the writing on the sides.

“You should know,” Will said. “You were there, remember? Look, is the sun in your eyes or what? Just put them on, you vampire.”

Luella put them on. “They're huge on me.”

“They're fine.”

“I feel stupid.”

“You look cute.” Luella stopped in her tracks, but Will kept walking on ahead. “Come on, Keebler! Time waits for no man. Or elf.” She felt her cheeks turn pink, and hoped the sunglasses were big enough to hide it. She hurried to catch up, muttering under her breath.

“You know,” said Will, “maybe if you got more vitamin D, you wouldn't be so mean.”

“If I were being mean, you'd know it.”

“Fine, then maybe you'd have a boyfriend.”

“Ew, that is a totally sexist thing to say. Like having a boyfriend is the pinnacle of accomplishment? The bar to which we all must strive? Listen, Kingfield. I'm going to win an Oscar one day. And a Golden Globe. And the goddamn Nobel Prize for drama. And you”—Luella paused to breathe—“will be begging to accompany me down the red carpet.” Will held up his hands in surrender and kept walking.

They took the bus across the park at Sixty-Sixth Street, and then walked up Central Park West. Luella had to admit that it helped to have the sunglasses, but she wasn't about to say anything. Will was wearing cargo shorts and a baggy T-shirt with a linocut of some guy's face on the front.

“Weird shirt,” said Luella. “Who is that?”

“Who
is
that? Do you seriously not know who Bill Murray is?” Will looked aghast.

Luella shrugged. “No.”

“Oh my god,” Will said, slapping his forehead. “Oh my god.
Saturday Night Live
?
Groundhog Day
?
Ghostbusters
?” Luella shook her head. “Just . . . watch
Caddyshack
, please. Please just watch it. It is one of the greatest films of all time.”

“Wait,” Luella said. “Was he the old guy in
Lost in Translation
? I love that movie.”

“I'm going to cry,” said Will. “You are such a girl.” Luella stopped and stared at him, her mouth gaping.

“That's not an insult, Will!”

“Catch up, Keebler,” he said, smiling. “We're here.”

Luella looked up and realized they were standing in front of the Museum of Natural History.

“The museum?” Luella asked.

“It's my secret study place. Come on.”

They sat in a corner of the Milstein Hall of Ocean Life. Growing up, Luella had always been secretly afraid of this room. There was a humongous to-scale model of a blue whale suspended from the ceiling, and she was always afraid that if she walked under it, the giant thing would fall and crush her. Usually, she had never gotten farther than the fake firefly display outside. It was a favorite spot for her and her dad, but even her dad knew never to try to force Luella into the whale room.

But she didn't mention any of this to Will. He looked so sure of himself as he breezed past the fireflies and into the massive hall. She closed her eyes when she saw the whale, but she didn't want Will to think she was some kind of wimp. She insisted they walk about the edges of the room instead, so that they didn't have to walk directly underneath it.

They made their way past the life-size dioramas of dolphins and sea lions, manatees and jellyfish and octopi, suspended in fake time in the fake ocean, until they found a dark corner of the room where the whale probably wouldn't fall on them. They sat down.

“This should appeal to your vampire nature,” said Will. “Nice and dark. You can give the glasses back now.”