Lucky Me Read Online Free

than doughnuts.” She was referring to the boys from Chesapeake Academy. They hung out there and played the store’s video games. Carissa added, “Come on. We’ll get your mind off the election and the assembly. Carbs, sugar, and Chesapeake boys will help. I promise.”
    â€œIs Shannon bringing you home today?”
    Carissa often caught a ride home because she was way too cool for the bus, and she preferred hanging out with the dysfunctional McGlinchey girls to being in her house.
    â€œYou know it. She likes my company.”
    Shannon didn’t particularly care for Carissa or her company.
    Once we were across the street, I put the gum into my mouth. We walked through a small playground, whereI hopped over the hopscotch board: two, one, two, one, one, two. I hopped the board every time we cut through there, and now, to skip it would be unlucky. “Wait,” I said to Carissa. I went back and hopped over the painted boxes again.
    â€œWhat was that for?”
    â€œI figured I could use a little extra oomph today, and for some reason that hopscotch board always gives me a good feeling.”
    â€œMaybe you should draw one on your driveway. That way you can do it every day,” she suggested.
    Carissa wasn’t superstitious the way I was, but she tried to be supportive. For example, if she found a heads-up penny, she’d give it to me. That was the kind of friend she was.
    Shannon was waiting for us outside. Carissa started for the door to the Hole, but Shannon called to her, “We already got some.”
    Carissa’s back slumped at the idea of missing the boys from Chesapeake, and she got into the car.
    At least the doughnuts smelled good.
    â€œYou know,” Carissa said, pouting, “my future husband could be in there right now eating a Boston cream and waiting for me. He’ll never meet me. Poor guy.”
    â€œJust buckle up.” Shannon tossed her a bag with two chocolate glazed doughnuts.
    Eryn texted silently in the front seat, probably to one of her equally angry friends.
    The ride home was miserable.
    Shannon asked, “What happened with the election?”
    â€œI don’t get it,” I said. “I really thought everyone was putting my name in the ballot box.”
    â€œI want to protest. But she won’t let me,” Carissa added.
    As if I didn’t feel bad enough, Piper, who sat between Carissa and me, spoke over Shannon, telling the Frank-O story over and over, louder each time. “And then the coffin crashed to the ground. It dented the wood stage. You know they’ll have to repair it?” In the next version they had to replace a section, and in the next they had to rebuild the whole stage.
    Carissa tried to change the subject to get the heat off me. “How about them Yankees?”
    But Piper said, “Wait till Mom finds out about the suspension.”
    â€œWhat?” Shannon shrieked.
    Eryn laughed a little.
    â€œLook, I had a really bad day. And actually it’s your fault,” I said to Shannon angrily.
    â€œ My fault? How did I get you in all that trouble?”
    â€œI e-mailed that letter, which you told me to do, and now I’m cursed. Thank you very much.”
    Eryn spoke three words, “Told. You. So.”
    Piper asked, “What are you gonna do? You have to do something. Look at your socks!”
    â€œAccording to Google,” I explained, “if I find the links of the chain and ask them to forgive me, I can undo the curse.”
    Shannon said, “Then get on the phone, talk to the links, and undo the curse.”
    â€œThere are a few complications,” I said. “Apparently, I need to shake on it.”
    â€œWhat?” Shannon asked. “That doesn’t make sense. I’ve never heard of this.”
    Carissa said, “Um . . . we found it online today. It was a new amendment to the chain letter rules. From 2011, I think. There was a convention or