Lucky T by Kate Brian Read Free Book Online

she was watching basketball with the very guy who had broken her heart.
    "Listen, I know you're really pissed off," Piper said, trying to console her. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"
    "It sounds like you already know what happened," Carrie said flatly.
    "Carrie, obviously I didn't know he was coming," Piper said. "I thought you guys were going to be out all night."
    Carrie's heart ached even more, thinking about the romantic night she should have had. "Yeah, so did I."
    "Look, Carrie, I know it's hard right now, but it's gonna be okay," Piper said. "Sometimes people just grow apart."
    Carrie wrapped her free arm around herself and held on tight. "Is that what he told you?"
    "Yeah. And he feels really bad about the whole thing. He actually said he hoped you guys could still be friends."
    This was unbelievable. Piper was pleading Jason's case! She was supposed to listen to Carrie's story and be appalled and righteously indignant and was supposed to vow never to talk to Jason again for the rest of her life. But instead Jason had gotten to her first and told her some watered-down version of the story, which for some reason Piper believed without hearing Carrie's point of view. This was so out of whack and hurtful to Carrie that she couldn't help but visit The Zone again.
    "This is complete BS," Carrie snapped. "I can't believe you're taking his side."
    "I'm not taking anyone's side," Piper said.
    "Yes, you are!" Carrie shouted. "I thought we were best friends, Piper. I thought I could count on you. But on the night my boyfriend call ously dumps me, you're telling me I should still be his friend? He's probably sitting there watching you talk to me."
    The silence on the other end of the line said it all .
    "Oh my God! He is! He's sitting right there!" Carrie cried. The very thought of Jason listening in their conversation, watching Piper for signs of how things were going, made Carrie want to hurl. She had never felt so wronged.
    "Carrie, you guys are both my friends," Piper said. "I didn't know what to do. I'm sorry, but--"
    "I'm sorry too, Piper," Carrie interrupted. "Sorry that I trusted you."
    She turned off the phone without all owing Piper to explain herself or make any more excuses. Then, hands trembling, she turned around and ripped the cord of her landline out of the wall. Afterward she burst into another crying fit that she assumed would last for days.
    Three weeks later Carrie rubbed her rabbit's foot under the table in biology class as Mr. Dumas handed back the final exams. She had bought the trinket the day after losing her T, hoping to get some of her luck back, but so far it hadn't done much but be fuzzy and hang off her key chain. Today her stomach was tied in dozens of tight little knots. She had a bad feeling about this.
    On the morning of the test not one but two black cats had run right by her as she locked up her bike in front of the school. That really did not bode wel , especially with her lucky T on a whole other continent and the fabric of her life viciously unraveling yard by yard. Not even a rabbit's foot could combat that.
    The last three weeks had been long, miserable, and lonely. Carrie had avoided Piper as much as possible at school, changed lunch tables, and given her the cold shoulder until Piper finally stopped trying to talk to her. Jason hadn't even bothered to try, which fueled her anger and kept her from mourning him too much. Stil , every day was a struggle. Carrie had to concentrate to remember the new routes to class that would help her avoid both Piper and Jason. She had to keep her eyes peeled in the hal ways so that she could spot them first and avoid eye contact. It was exhausting to the point that she hadn't been sleeping wel or able to concentrate on studying.
    But there was hope on the horizon. By this time next week the school year would be over. Then she wouldn't even have to get up in the morning. A depressing fact, but true nonetheless.
    Mr. Dumas placed Marni Markenson's