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And that’d been before I noticed the text on his tank top that read:
Nobody knows it’s my birthday.
I’d rushed through packing up, hoping to catch up with him, only for my shoulders to sag in disappointment when I realized he was already gone. But his shirt had my wheels turning. The metaphorical friendship ball was in my court, and this was the perfect occasion to make a play.
That positive energy must’ve created a shield around me, because I managed to make it the rest of the afternoon and early evening without any run-ins with Grandmother, AJ, or anyone else who would’ve tanked it.
Because I’d spotted them quickly enough to hide. Like a coward. Grandmother was at the $10 carousel of slot machines, being fussed over by a few eager casino hosts-in-training. They called it “player development,” which was a corporate way of saying people who catered to every need of the biggest players to make sure they rode out the lows of gambling so they’d stick around for the highs.
And stick around Grandmother had.
Avoiding AJ had been easy too. I’d simply slipped into Mr. Dez’s office—as I’d done hundreds of times over the years, though usually with Cody by my side—at the first glimpse of his blond hair. Thankfully, Mr. Dez had been on the phone and had just raised his eyebrows at me before immediately shrugging me off.
It was maybe the perfect kind of luck for a sort of… comeback for Lady Luck. And for me.
My optimism was a small echo of how I’d felt during my official Lady Luck debut more than a year ago. Bold. Ready. Just a little nervous but excited for the costume, the script, and the connection with my mom.
My good mood and luck carried me all the way to the staff room nearest the Big Wheel. It was 6:00 p.m. now, so I had enough time before the tournaments started in an hour to try to share this good energy with Cody. Last time we coordinated time zones and schedules for a call, he’d seemed a little down. The shift was subtle enough that he could’ve hidden it through text but not through video. Not from me, anyway.
I clicked on his name in my contacts—the first and only on my favorites list—and started a video chat.
“Hola, señorita con suerte,” his deep voice answered after a few rings, the screen black as the video tried its best to load from wherever he was. I used that lag time to recall my high school Spanish class, and by the time I had a translation, his sun-kissed face filled the screen.
“Yes, I know what today is, Cher. I might not always know where I am or in what time zone, but I was raised in a place that worshiped the number seven…. Also, you know I know everything.” There was a slight furrow to his brow that was barely visible above the oversized sunglasses perched on his face.
I couldn’t tell if he was just being sassy or if he meant he knew about AJ, so I smiled broadly and tested the waters. “You know I worship my own idol.”
“Swear to God, if you start talking about the sweater again, I will call Barb.”
I gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would. We both know there is no bigger gun.” He scoffed before stretching an arm above his head and leaning back against a white vinyl sun lounger. “Okay, you know I wouldn’t do that. But that fear? I want you to remember it.”
“Fear of Barb is already my most potent core memory and motivator, so it’d be redundant,” I said dryly. “Anyway, I’m just sitting here, going through my usual dilemma. What’re you up to?” I took in the bright sun and polished deck behind him. “It looks beautiful there.”
“Whether you should bother with eye makeup when you’re going to be wearing a blindfold? It’s a valid question with no obvious answer. Aaaaand I’m sitting around on the ship at the port in Cozumel. I just finished helping with early dinner service a little while ago, and Austin is already at the theater for sound check. I’m off until morning.” He blew out a breath and started rapidly strumming a strip of the lounger’s vinyl above his head. A Cody idiosyncrasy if ever I knew one.
“You miss him,” I lightly prompted, keeping my voice gentle and making myself the biggest hypocrite to ever exist.
“I just… I feel like we are on this cruise ship together and I see him less than I did before. And when we do see each other, we’re crammed into staff rooms, surrounded by people who I apparently have no idea how to talk to. I just…. Ugh, I don’t know.”
That immediate sharing? That’s what made Cody the better half of our friendship. I gave him a minute to sort through his thoughts because even though he was better at opening up, he would clam up if pushed.
Eventually he sighed and pushed his sunglasses up to the top of his head without saying any more, his shoulder-length dirty-blond hair a tangled mess. My heart ached for my best friend as we made eye contact. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
“I’m sorry it’s not all that you dreamed it would be.”
His eyes softened. “It isn’t that, really. I’m just having a day. I’m glad you called. I was going to call you if you hadn’t. How’re things there?”
“It’s been a good day. Low-key. I got to work near Margaret, who is as magnificent as ever. And… I’m weirdly looking forward to tonight.”
“And you have feelings about that,” he guessed—correctly.
“Lots.”
I heard him smack his lips as he prepared a Cody-ism for me. “Ride that wave, Lady Cher. Don’t waste your time questioning why you’re happy. Just be happy. And wear your black top tonight. It’s spooky season.”
Layydee Shaaa. I missed that.
