The Improbable Legend of Lucy George

Chapter 1

I have this weird ability to be at the right place at the right time. I don't know why or how this was true, but it's happened to me more than once in my lifetime. For example, when I was six, I just happened to be the ten-thousandth customer at a grocery store. Mom had already gone through the line, but I wanted a candy bar. My mom had given me cash and taught me how to go through the line behind her. As soon as I paid, balloons flew into the air, music started…and I cried. I was handed a thousand bucks, which bought me more than my fair share of candy bars for a few years. I guess it was just my lot in life to be lucky, because it happened to me a lot.

Some people seem to think my life's story is a true legend, but honestly, it's just because I'm lucky. Always have been, and even though it seemed not to be true for part of my life, it always will be.

The last day of my senior year in high school was typical for me. After the niceties of handing in all our books and signing yearbooks, the students gathered in the auditorium so the administration could make sure there would be no senior pranks. Like they could stop it. The thought cracked me up.

The principal stood in front of the room. Mr. Wilder was a portly man, whose shirt's buttons always looked like they were going to burst open at any time. He wore a white shirt and a dark blue tie, with gray pants and a gray jacket. His glasses were those half-dealies, resting on the end of his wart-ridden nose. I wasn't a fan of Mr. Wilder, because he followed every rule to the letter, regardless if it made sense or not.

Senior claaaasss… That's how he talked, drawing out every last word in emphasis. We're going to keep you here until the end of the daaaaayyy.

Everyone groaned, but we all knew that would happen, because we'd been told the same thing all week long.

He continued. We want to diminish the probability of senior praaannnkkksss.

Well, duh…

My friend and neighbor, Tristan, leaned over from beside me. Shoot me now, he whispered. It has to be less painless.

I covered my mouth so Wilder couldn't see me laughing, but Tristan was a hoot.

What'cha gonna do about the offer? he whispered.

What offer? I whispered back to him.

Didn't Daria call you?

Daria Tuff was the world's top stock car racer, currently participating in the Green Racing League. Tristan was my go-to guy for Daria. He spoke to her and the rest of the team on the phone, at least. He also went with me to races, because he was just a nice guy. But he hadn't interacted with Daria much at all. He'd avoided her at all costs, whenever possible, because she was a flirt.

No, she didn't call me, I said. What does she need now?

A race. Saturday in Kentucky. She called me to make sure you'd be there. She wants to go on vacation with some guy.

We lived in Indiana, north of Indianapolis, about four hours from the racetrack. Won't someone see her when she's supposed to be running a race?

Probably. She's setting everything up for the vacation and will just fly in for the race. But she thinks she'll be too nervous to race, so you're elected. She thinks this guy's the one.

How much? I whispered to him.

Five hundred grand for the total prize, so you get fifty grand. I didn't know why she didn't call you.

The principal droned on and on about the prizes for the senior class.

I leaned closer to Tristan's ear. I don't know. But fifty grand would be nice.

He nodded.

Miss George, Mr. Wilder said.

I jumped in my seat.

Come up here.

Yikes. What had I done now?

~~~~~

Chapter 2

I got up from my seat, hearing my nickname muttered all around the big auditorium. Lucky Lucy…Lucky Lucy… I hated it, but it was the truth. Could I help it if I was lucky?

I ran to the front, because I wanted to get back to Tristan. Daria would never call my parents if she couldn't contact me. Tristan was my go-to guy and she knew it.

I headed up the stairs to the stage and stood in front of the principal. We're starting with the biggest prize. He then sighed. And, of course, Lucy won it. It's a scholarship for ten thousand dollars, as well as a trip to the Kentucky racetrack to see Daria Tuff race. He handed me some sort of plaque thingy along with a check.

The crowd cheered but I was dumbfounded. Ten grand was exceptionally sweet, but Daria? I'd be watching myself race.

Principal Wilder continued. I'll be joining you, Lucy, along with a friend of yours and two teachers of your choice.

It was only about a four-hour drive, but there was no way I could hang out with these people.

I turned toward the man and handed the prize back to him. I'm sorry. I can't go to the race. Give this to someone else.

The principal's eyebrows lifted. But you have to. You were chosen. We can't re-pick. It's in the rules of the donor.

Wilder and his glorious rules. Who's the donor? I asked.

He nodded. Daria Tuff, herself.

The kids cheered. If they only knew what she was like.

The principal continued. You'll even get to meet her.

I knew her better than anyone would guess and really didn't want to meet her.

Did she choose me, specifically? I just had to know.

No, but she wanted to be here to give it out. She might just make it, because she really wanted to come here. It seems she knows someone here. She wants to give a donation to the school because of the person she knows. He sighed. I just wish she'd tell me who she knew.

Me! I wanted to yell it, but glanced toward Tristan instead. He shook his head and shrugged. I was on my own.

Well, sir, I think—

The back door opened and Daria ran into the room. I'm here! Is everyone glad to see me?

What a diva.

The kids stood up and clapped, smiles covering their faces. She ran to the stage but as soon as she saw me, her smile disappeared.

Principal Wilder handed her a microphone. Ms. Tuff, I'd like you to meet Lucy George. She won your prize.

But I thought— She stopped talking. That's so nice of you to give it to a girl. I'm so happy to meet you. She pulled me in for a hug. Did you rig this? she whispered.

Nope. I was just trying to give the money back.

Too late for that. We're going to have to get creative. She backed away and turned toward the crowd. I'd like to meet with all the people who are going to Kentucky for my race. Which two teachers do you want to join us? I have a limo and will be riding with you.

The crowd cheered again, but I ignored them. Instead, I looked at some of the teachers forced to watch over us for the afternoon. I'd like Mr. Matts and Mr. Jameson to join us. They were both old and wouldn't be the type to hunt for me when I disappeared.

The kids appeared confused, but tried to clap. It was a half-enthused attempt at being excited. Poor things, but I was laughing on the inside. I figured both of those teachers would be asleep by the time the race even started.

That's great, Daria said. And for the friend you want to bring?

Every hand went up and people yelled for me. Losers.

I have to choose Tristan. He can explain these races better than anyone I know.

Daria grabbed my arm, and even though she smiled, she squeezed my skin hard. I tried to appear to be enamored by her, but it was tough with tears in my eyes.

Tristan, would you come up here? Daria asked.

He hopped to his feet and ran up to the stage. He forced himself between Daria and me, and took my hand.

Are you two dating? she asked Tristan.

No. He smiled at me. We're just friends.

Uh-huh. I see more than that. Daria laughed, and the crowd went wild.

Even though Tristan had avoided Daria, she called him on more than one occasion to flirt with him. I wasn't just saying that, because even he was appalled at some of the things she'd said to him, ever since he turned 18.

Daria took Tristan's other hand. His eyebrows lifted and he darted his eyes toward me. I just nodded, but said nothing.

So early on Saturday morning, Daria said. I expect all five of you to be here, to take a trip with me to the race.

I nodded and Tristan squeezed my hand harder. But I couldn't say a thing with everyone watching us. When I glanced over, I saw Daria's hands massaging Tristan's chest. I shot her a dirty look and she giggled, as Principal Wilder kept talking about how wonderful the trip to Kentucky would be on Saturday. I could hardly wait. Two days away and I was already looking forward to moving away to college in the fall.

~~~~~

Chapter 3

I sat in the limo with Tristan, Daria, Principal Wilder, Mr. Matts, and Mr. Jameson. Mr. Matts was asleep, even though we'd only left the school two minutes earlier. Meanwhile, Mr. Jameson was on his cell phone, yelling at someone on the other end. I sat between Principal Wilder and Tristan, who was beside Daria. She tittered at Tristan, making me wonder who she was dating. If the guy knew she was flirting with a teenage boy, he might have other ideas about dating her.

She shot me a glance, appearing to nonverbally ask me if I was jealous. I wasn't, in the least, but she was misbehaving. I rolled my eyes and acted disgusted.

With a giggle, Daria reached over and turned on some music by pushing a button on the wall.

Jazz? Mr. Wilder asked her. You like jazz?

She ran her hand down Tristan's arm, ignoring the principal. I like all music. What do you like, Tristan? She even blew into his ear.

Tristan leaned over to my ear. Save me?

Can't.

Why not?

She'll get upset. I moved closer to his ear. I need the cash for college.

With a sigh, he leaned back. When are you leaving for college?

That was a random question. He already knew and was upset about it. The end of August. Two and a half months. Why?

His arm inched around me. I'm going to miss you.

You will? Daria asked. Are you two dating?

I put my head on Tristan's shoulder. No one's to know it, but yes. He's my pooky bear. I wanted to puke, but Tristan and I had decided a long time ago to keep other potential dates away by playing like we were dating. I reached up and stroked his cheek. Right, sweetheart?

He grinned and lifted his eyebrow. Sure. He ran his fingers through my hair and backed away slightly. Want me to prove it? he whispered.

Want to die? I whispered back, and lifted my head off his shoulder. I had to keep him at bay.

I want him to prove it, Daria said, and crossed her arms. I don't buy it.

Tristan's mouth fell open and his cheeks reddened. He finally took a deep breath, turned toward me, and kissed me, hard.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. My heart raced. I wasn't sure if I liked him kissing me, or just the fact that any guy had kissed me. That was the major problem. However, since Tristan was like a brother to me, I had to think he wasn't the one for me. At least I told myself that, even though my body told me otherwise.

He backed away from me while I watched him. I finally took a breath, not sure if I was alive or what was going on. Even though my heart was excited, my brain kept saying, 'brother, not lover.' It was weird.

Tristan seemed stunned.

You okay, son? Principal Wilder asked. You know I don't like PDA in my presence.

PDA meant 'public display of affection.' Wilder would tell us about PDA every day during the morning announcements. He'd go into detail about what it was and how not to do it, if that made any sense. I had nightmares about Principal Wilder yelling about PDA.

You don't like it, because your wife won't do it. Daria seemed upset, but continued to watch Tristan and me just stare at each other. She finally smiled. "So you are dating. With a nod, she backed off and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, dialing fast. Andrew, you have nothing to worry about."

Jameson ended his call. Andrew? Who's Andrew?

Are you okay? Tristan whispered to me.

I nodded, but didn't know the answer to that question. Considering I'd just kissed my neighbor, block parties would never be the same again. That voice in my head yelled 'brother not lover' yet again.

Tristan took my hand and kissed the back of it, moving closer to me. I'm glad that happened, he whispered. I've been waiting forever for you.

It won't work. I'm leaving and you're staying here. And you're like a brother to me. But I just couldn't say it aloud.

He shrugged. Who knows what'll happen. Maybe it's time I consider college. He watched me with a smile. Did you feel that, too?

I don't think this is a good idea, I whispered.

Daria ended her call. That was my fiancé, none other than…uh… She glanced around the floor, smiling when she saw some candy wrappers. Andrew Reese, the famous entrepreneur.

I never heard of him, which meant he was a nothing and definitely not famous, other than being seen with Daria. Or she'd made up the name to protect herself. That was more like it, as I focused on the same orange wrapper from the Hershey Corporation, crumpled on the floor.

Daria continued. Now I have to tell you how to behave at this little race. Her glance to me wasn't unnoticed. Yeah, I got it. I would be her body double for the race while she ran off and did whatever until I got to the finish line. Then we'd make the switch and she'd take the glory.

That's how I knew Daria. I was her racing double and here's how it happened.

When stock-car racing became uber-popular, two other leagues popped up—the Green Racing League, and the more popular Red Racing League. The rules were different than NASCAR's rules, which made it more of a free-for-all on the track. But they did have rules. However, since it was a new racing league, it was easy to pay off the officials to make your own rules.

Daria Tuff had raced for the Green