My Secret Good Luck Charm

 There’s nothing more exciting than
watching the clock move to midnight, signaling a new day, or a new month, or even a new year. For me, the best time to watch the clock is when it tells me that it’s March. Mom said I couldn’t start celebrating St. Patrick’s Day until March first, and every year it seemed to take longer to hit my favorite month.

Hi, my name is Heidi, and I am obsessed with St. Patrick’s Day. Good thing there’s not actually a support group for that, or I’d probably be stuck there for the entire month. Or year.

It wasn't that I had Irish in my
veins—although I’m pretty sure there’s an Irish great-uncle once removed through marriage, or something. It was the very thought of the greenest holiday of the year. Leprechauns, plaid, Irish blessings, all of it.

Where did I get this crazy obsession, you ask? I actually don’t know. It just kinda . . . happened. And my poor
schoolmates had to deal with it every year. They loved it.

Okay, maybe not everyone. I mean, I heard the giggles and snickers as I walked past clad from head to toe in green. And I’d only gone on one or two dates since I got to high school, but at least I was happy, right?

“Yo, Heidi. Are you with me?” Jodi waved her hand in front of my face.

“Uh, yeah.” I blinked and shook my head, wishing it wasn’t still February twenty-eighth. “What’s up?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You were going all Irish on me again, weren’t you?”

“No. Maybe.” I squeezed my books to my chest. “I was just trying to decide what outfit to wear first. It’s my last
year here, so I need to make it awesome.”

“I know. Go with a regular T-shirt and
jeans like every other student here.” Jodi waved at her crush, Dylan. Why those two didn’t just hook up was beyond me.

I stopped, causing a five-student pile-up. “Take that back.”

Jodi grabbed my arm and yanked me forward. “You know I won’t. Also, can you please not cause accidents in the hallway? Pretty sure you almost gave the captain of the soccer team a concussion from running into the head cheerleader.”

“Maybe they shouldn’t have been kissing.”
I switched out my books and shut my locker. “Besides, I have the sign on my back for a reason.”

“Yes, the one your parents bought you at a truck stop that is clearly a souvenir. No one is going to pay attention to it.”
Jodi rolled her eyes. “Oh, there’s Jordan. I’ll catch you after class?”

I waved and continued on to Physics. There was only one more seat left, so I slid into it and made sure I had my homework out. Mr. Spitzer was a no-nonsense teacher, and everyone was usually on their best behavior in his class.

That meant no daydreaming of moving to Ireland and no doodling on my papers. It wasn’t usually a problem, though. I actually liked this class.

We handed in our assignments, then took the tests that were given to us. A few groans and whispered last-minute reminders went up around me, but I was ready. Dad hadn’t studied all night with me for nothing. Not that he had to since I already knew it. He just loved science. Helps when he’s an actual rocket scientist.

There were a few students who finished before me, but only because I wanted to check my answers a few times. Mom always told me that I needed to trust my first answer, but I didn’t always believe that. I mean, what if we weren’t sure and just filled in the answers with random
letters until we could remember what the actual solution was? Not that I would ever do such a thing . . .

I signed my name at the top with a
flourish and took it up to the front. Mr. Spitzer didn’t lift his head as he
took it from me. He was too interested in whatever book he had laid out in front of him. I was pretty sure I could have had Jodi turn in my test and he wouldn’t have noticed.

With that test done, I only had my English exam and then I’d be completely done for spring break. They were doing it way early this year, which was both a blessing and a curse. I’d only get half a day
tomorrow to show off my first St Patrick’s Day outfit, but that also meant a week of no school. I’d take the no school in a heartbeat.

Jodi met me after class, and we walked to English together. “I’m so nervous for this. I couldn’t concentrate on my math
test because of this one.”

“You’ll do fine. It’s just an essay.” I
sat down and shoved my bag under the desk.

“Easy for you to say,” she mumbled. “I suppose you aced the physics test as well?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. He wasn’t even grading when we left.”

Jodi laughed. “You know you did.”

“Maybe.” I waited impatiently for Mr.
Carlson to start. I wanted to get this test over with. Senioritis had hit
almost as hard as my obsession with all things Irish, and spring break was just a couple of days away. I wanted my break. After showing off one of my newest outfits tomorrow, of course. I was certain the school board had decided to put
spring break in March just so I couldn’t enjoy spreading St. Patrick’s Day cheer with the school. Hey, it’s a thing.

It’s too bad Mr. Carlson didn’t have a
little of that cheer. He was too busy making us write essays on boring things like themes in historical fiction to care about what was going on around him. Not that I didn’t enjoy what we were reading. Historical fiction was a favorite
of mine, but I liked reading them to escape, not to analyze the themes and how they relate to today.

I finished the last essay question a few minutes before the bell would ring and took it up to Mr. Carlson. “Here you go.”

“Thanks, Ms. Simmons. Thank you for using a pencil this time.” He set the paper next to him and went back to grading the other tests.

“You’re welcome.” I went back to my desk and set my pencil in my bag right next to my color assortment of pens. And by colored assortment, I meant different shades of green. And a couple of yellows because they worked well for gold. The last time we’d taken a test, I forgot a pencil and had to use my seaweed green pen. It was the closest to black I had,
but I couldn’t erase it. Not good when writing essays.

Jodi handed hers in right as the bell
rang, and she didn’t seem quite as happy with her test as I had been with mine.
She grumbled about the difference between Emily Bronte and Charlotte Bronte on our way to lunch.

“I’m sure you did fine. Stop worrying so much or you’ll have wrinkle lines for spring break.” I grabbed a tray.
“Besides, those two were on last week’s test.”

“No.” Her eyes widened. “Please don’t tell me that. I was sure it was on this week’s test.”

“Okay. They were on this week’s test. But the look on your face was priceless.” I had to jump back to avoid her fist from hitting me in the shoulder. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Jodi shook her head and took the roll the lunch lady handed her. “I don’t know why I still believe anything you say.”

I shrugged. “It’s my charm. Who would ever believe I could lie to anyone?”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.”

The loudspeaker crackled overhead, but it was too loud in the cafeteria to hear. I sighed and sat at our usual table. “One of these days they’ll realize that trying to get our attention in this chaos is futile.”

“I doubt it.” Jodi took a bite of her
burger. “Oh my gosh. It’s Dylan. He’s coming this way.”

I turned to find him. “Huh. He really is. Hey, Dylan. ’Sup?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You need to go to the office to be checked out.”