Lucky Me by Saba Kapur Page A

watching over me, and boy, that angel was doing one heck of a job.
    I mentally slapped myself and pulled my eyes away from our hands. I was at my own boyfriend’s party, daydreaming about some other guy’s hand! I was a terrible person and there was no denying it.
    â€œI’M DRUNK BITCHES!”
    A random guy wearing a Hawaiian printed shirt and a Rasta hat with fake dreadlocks attached to it jumped in front of us with his hands in the air, clutching what seemed to be a Ukulele in one of them. Jack came to a sudden halt and I crashed into his back, steadying myself on my heels. Was it legal for Jack to smell that good? Probably not. Plus, the basement deluxe drink I had downed wasn’t settling well with my mind. The Ukulele guy high-fived someone next to him and started chanting the lyrics to the Flo Rida song playing. Jack turned to me and grinned, as if he couldn’t believe he was actually at a party like this. I shrugged. I’d seen all this before.
    Jack opened the door directly to his right, and having been to Brendan’s house many times before, I knew it was one of many lavish bathrooms in the house.
    â€œOh! Sorry . . .”
    Aria and some attractive, slightly exotic guy were sitting on the edge of the empty bath, passionately making out.
    â€œHey Gia,” she said, slightly breathlessly.
    â€œHey. Who’s this?” I asked, glancing at the guy adjusting his shirt.
    â€œOh,” Aria said, looking at him with a sheepish smile. “This is . . . uh . . .”
    I widened my eyes expectantly. She didn’t even know the guy’s name! Typical Aria.
    â€œMarco,” he said, with an awkward wave and a slight Italian accent.
    â€œMarco.” Aria repeated, with a firm nod. “He’s from Spain.”
    â€œItaly.” He corrected her.
    â€œOh, Italy.”
    â€œRight, well nice to meet you Marco.” Jack said, giving me a sideways look.
    â€œHey, have you seen Brendan?” I asked, still holding onto Jack’s hand.
    â€œNo, sorry. Try the kitchen? He was there with the caterers before.”
    â€œWe’ll leave you to it then.” Jack told her.
    I mouthed nice work to Aria, motioning to Marco who was looking at his feet, and just managed to catch her wink before Jack closed the door.
    â€œMarco seems nice.” Jack said, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the music.
    I just smiled. Aria always ended up with some amazing stranger at parties, it was just who she was. What did I always end up with? Putting a drunk Brendan to bed while he sang the Friends theme song and completely missed the part where you clap .
    â€œLet’s try this room,” Jack said, more to himself than me, pushing open the door a little ahead of us.
    Again from experience, I already knew that the room was for guests. I’d only ever been in it once, the first time I had come to Brendan’s house. I remember falling in love with the golden lampshades and secretly wondering if I could sneak out with one if I hid it under my shirt. I didn’t try it though; Brendan was with me the whole time.
    â€œFinally,” Jack sighed, closing the door behind us and releasing my hand. “I can actually hear myself think.”
    â€œWhy are we in the bedroom?” I asked, taking a step away from him. “Brendan was in the kitchen, remember?”
    The music was still loud, but at least it was muffled enough that we could have a conversation without shouting. I did some heavy breathing and reminded myself that Jack was just a guy, and not especially crafted by Baby J just for me. The bedroom atmosphere wasn’t helping though. Jack moved toward the bed and sat down on the edge of it, eyeing the contents of the room with an impressed look on his face.
    â€œBeef boy’s got a nice house,” he remarked, caressing the silk bed sheet beneath him.
    â€œYeah, it’s . . . yeah.” I put my bag