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I threw myself into work, the easiest way to push out the thoughts churning in my head. And there was plenty to do. Even though Bigwood said I wasn’ t getting Lizbeth’ s old job, he certainly had been saving plenty of her aborted projects to dump on me. Still, even he must have sensed something was awry, because even though I’ d become the walking dead, he never once asked what was different about me.

As Troy had put it, time kept marching forward, no matter how much I wanted to curl into a ball and hide. I managed to keep myself more or less distracted all the way to the dreaded Tuesday evening when-with Marissa’ s birthday party due to start in a half hour-Susan and Brie came to find me in my cubicle.

‘ We’ re heading out now. You want to carpool with us?’  Brie asked.

‘ There are a few things I need to do first. I’ m taking the bus.’

Susan looked at me skeptically. ‘ You’ re not going to blow it off, are you? I’ m prepared to drag you to the party if need be. Those people are counting on you. Nobody’ s going to care that you didn’ t finish the list.’

‘ I promise, I’ ll be there. The 440 bus heads straight down Wilshire. It won’ t take me any time at all. In the meantime, you guys go represent.’

‘ Represent,’  Brie muttered. ‘ Will you people never quit stealing our slang?’

Turning to leave, Susan said, ‘ We’ ll save you a seat.’

‘ Near the back, please,’  I replied, my voice pleading.

I’ d go to the party all right, but I was aiming for fashionably late and as low-profile as possible. If I didn’ t have a chance to talk to anyone, maybe they’ d assume I’ d finished the list. The thought of lying also occurred to me-and if it hadn’ t been for a vague unease about being struck down by lightning, that’ s exactly what I would have done.

Besides, it wasn’ t over yet. Earlier in the day, I had remembered one of Martucci’ s ideas. He’ d said that if the adoption fell through, I could try to change people’ s lives by handing out lottery tickets. If one hit, then I’ d certainly changed a life.

It was pitiful, but I was going to do it anyway.

After I was sure the others had left, I snuck down to the liquor store and bought a hundred Lotto scratchers. One by one, I stopped people on the street and asked them to scratch off the ticket on the spot-and if you ever want to know about the lack of trust in our society these days, try offering something for free.

So I wouldn’ t be too late, I started handing out a few at a time. By seven o’ clock when the party was officially under way, I’ d had only two winners: ten dollars and sixty dollars. The ten-dollar winner said, ‘ Hey, thanks, this ought to be good for a couple packs of smokes,’  and the sixty-dollar winner was excited, but-as her engagement ring looked as if it had cost about sixty thousand-I doubted that it would be exactly life-changing.

Clutching the last ticket, I headed to my bus stop. There was a woman standing there in filthy clothes and missing several teeth-precisely what I’ d been hoping for. Even if she won a small amount, it could be enough to have an impact.

‘ Hi,’  I chirped. ‘ I’ ve got this lottery ticket to give you.’

She sneered at me. ‘ What for? Is this a trick?’

‘ No. Here-’  And I handed it over. She started to tuck it in her cleavage, and I said, ‘ Please scratch it off now. I need to see if it’ s a winner.’

‘ I ain’ t got a coin.’

I dug through my purse and handed her a nickel.

‘ Quarters work better,’  she said slyly.

I kept digging until I found a quarter, then held my breath as she scratched off the card.

Nothing.

Disappointment rose like bile. I must’ ve looked stricken, because she said, ‘ Girlie, it ain’ t no big deal.’

‘ I know. But if it’ d been a winner, maybe it would have made a difference in your life. I’ d like to have done that.’

‘ You want to make a difference in my life?’

‘ Desperately.’

She gave me a slow once-over. ‘ Them shoes of yours look comfy. Mine pinch my feet something awful. I’ ll bet anything if you gave me them shoes, that’ d make a big difference.’

My shoes? I was about to scoff when I thought, What the heck. I slipped off my shoes, a hundred-and-twenty-dollar pair I’ d recently splurged on at Macy’ s.

She took them, and without a thank-you or so much as a word otherwise, she left. I stood at the bus stop, waiting for the bus to arrive. Maybe tomorrow, after a night’ s sleep, I could come up with another way to change someone’ s life. I decided right there that I wasn’ t going to give the list back until it was done. I’ d go to the party and face everyone as a loser. But, hey, at least I’ d tried.

The thought of which left me utterly thunderstruck.

I’ d tried.

I’ d failed. I’ d picked myself up, dusted myself off, and tried again. Me!

Of course-that was it!

A horn honked nearby, tugging me from my thoughts.

‘ Hey!’  It was Martucci, calling to me through the rolled-down passenger window of his Mercedes. ‘ Get in, you nut job! I’ ll give you a ride.’

I ran over and climbed into the passenger seat-and mmm, the fragrance of real Corinthian leather sure beat the smell of your average city bus stop. Martucci chuckled as he shifted into gear. ‘ I’ d ask why you were standing there in your socks, but I’ m not sure I want to know.’

Chapter 25

20 Things to Do by My 25th Birthday

1. Lose 100 pounds

2. Kiss a stranger

3. Change someone’ s life

4. Wear sexy shoes

5. Run a 5K

6. Dare to go braless

7. Make Buddy Fitch pay

8. Be the hottest girl at Oasis

9. Get on TV

10. Ride in a helicopter

11. Pitch an idea at work

12. Try boogie boarding

13. Eat ice cream in public

14. Go on a blind date

15. Take Mom and Grandma to see Wayne Newton

16. Get a massage

17. Throw away my bathroom scale

18. Watch a sunrise

19. Show my brother how grateful I am for him

20. Make a big donation to charity

The private room at Oasis was packed. People sat at cocktail tables and stood around holding drinks and plates of food. When Martucci and I walked in, a woman named Norma-I remembered her as the Weight Watchers leader who’ d given Marissa her lifetime pin the night she died-was near the bar, in the midst of telling a story into a handheld microphone. The fact that it ended with, ‘ And from that day forward, every woman in the group practically stripped naked before weighing in’ -followed by a roar of laughter from the crowd-gave me an indication of the overall mood. It was, as Kitty Jones had hoped, a party.

We grabbed beers from a bartender near the back and then made our way to the table where Susan and Brie sat with Sebastian and Kip.

‘ I was starting to worry you weren’ t coming,’  Susan said, pulling purses off a couple of chairs she’ d been saving. ‘ What happened to your shoes?’

‘ Don’ t ask.’

As I sat down, Troy relieved Norma of the microphone. He was in jeans and a button-down shirt, his hair recently cut-but it didn’ t incite lust in me as much as it made me want to pinch his cheeks.

‘ Anybody else who wants to share,’  Troy said, ‘ feel free to come on up.’  He held out the microphone.

Brie gave me a nudge. ‘ Go up there.’

A girl trotted to the microphone, buying me time. She introduced herself as a school friend of Marissa’ s and started to tell a story about how she and Marissa used to pass notes in algebra class.

‘ June doesn’ t have to talk if she doesn’ t want to,’  Susan said quietly to everyone at the table, as if I weren’ t there.