Dumb Luck

6

✧𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚢✧

He reads the entire book out loud. Even does stupid voices for dialogue.

He messes them up a lot, sometimes confusing one voice with one character or saying something in the wrong tone. He ends up going back every time he messes up just to fix it.

I laugh at him while I tell him to stop doing stupid voices. He asks me dramatically what I mean while doing the very stupid voice I tell him to stop with. I think he realizes I don't really want him to stop. It's too funny to actually want him to stop.

The first read through I did on my own was upsetting. I didn't want to be reading such a sad book on my own just because it's nostalgic for me, but I did it. It went about how you'd expect. This second read through though, it's less...sad.

The book itself is sad, and Ethan has the decency to drop his stupid voices when the sad bit pops up, but it's ultimately still not as sad as it had been when it was just me. I think it's because when I lean in a little closer to him to read the words while he goes, he doesn't push me away or question why I'm getting so close to him.

When he does finish the book, I don't pull too far away from him. I watch him set the book off to the side. He stares at the book beside it—The Outsiders—for an extra second before he looks back at me. "Nice book." He decides thoughtfully. "Kinda sad." He adds with a soft chuckle.

"Yeah." I smile a little as I slowly drag my knees up to my chest.

"Why do you like it?"

I take a deep breath and shrug softly. "I don't know." I admit. "It was never my favorite. I liked it but my sister liked it more."

"Huh." He acknowledges. "And The Outsiders?"

"Just a book I found."

"Yeah." He nods like he figured as much.

"And you?" I coax curiously. He raises a brow. "You picked it out for..." I shake my head slowly as I wait for him to finish my sentence.

"My brother." He smiles. "Yeah," He laughs and looks back over at the book. "He's, uh, not quite at that reading level yet. I mean—He is, but the school won't raise his level." He explains.

I frown. "Why?"

He shrugs. "Guess they hate smart kids."

"Hm." I acknowledge that with a soft laugh. "Yeah—My sister used to say the same thing." I nod fondly as I look away from him. Somewhat the same thing.

"How many siblings do you have?" He asks curiously.

I shake my head. "Just her." I clear my throat and awkwardly look down at my knees that I hug to my chest. "But she, um, passed away a year ago."

Awkwardly, I look over at him when he doesn't immediately say anything. Ethan blinks a few times at me. "Oh." He whispers. He shakes his head at himself. "I'm sorry. What..." He pauses, unsure of his question. "What happened?"

I hum quietly. "She, um...got really sick a couple of years ago." I mutter. "They couldn't figure out what it was, and we didn't really have the money to find out much less treat it." I reason with a weak shrug. "So.."

"I'm so sorry." Ethan mumbles, his brows bunching up until there's a deep line creased between them. "Was she..." He lets go of his question. "How old was she?"

"Twenty-three." I answer quietly. Ethan hums quietly, shaking his head. "She was ready though, you know?" I reason, leaning in a little closer as I nod. I get the urge to comfort him, and it's hard to ignore. "There was one night," I breathe as I look away from him. "She was home during the last couple of months. And I was in her room. Just, um, hanging out with her. We were just sitting there, and she turned to me. And..." I let out a breathy chuckle as I look back at him. "I could just tell. By the way she was looking at me. She..." I shake my head softly. "Was tired. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah." Ethan quietly acknowledges. He nods softly when I shrug and give a short smile. "You guys never..." He trails off.

"Found out what it was?" I offer. He hums. I shake my head as I lift my hand to dab the corner of my eye with a finger. "No." I answer. "No, um," I look down again as I return my hand down to wrap around my knees. "The doctors couldn't tell us what it was, so they didn't know how to treat it. They just 'made her comfortable' and basically sent us home with her."

When I look back at him, his expression has changed. He looks sad and angry and empathetic all at the same time. "I'm so sorry." He repeats. He seems genuine with his apology. "I couldn't...fucking imagine..." He scoffs quietly as he looks away from me, his sentence quieting slowly.

"You don't have to." I lean over a little to bump my shoulder against his. His attention whips back over to me. "How old is your brother?" I ask curiously.

He starts to smile a little to himself. "Just turned eight."

"Aw, and the poor guy wants to read eighth grade books?" I ask, smiling a little more as I tilt my head.

Ethan laughs. "Yeah, he's really nerdy." He murmurs fondly. "Loves his books. Sucks at his actual schoolwork though."

"Maybe it doesn't challenge him enough." I suggest. Ethan watches me curiously. "That was Rebecca's problem." I add with a little smile. "She hated the work put in front of her because it was too easy for her. Too boring. She barely turned anything in."

He smiles at that. "Maybe." He nods. "And what about you?" He coaxes on a sigh as he shifts around a little. "You're a bit of a nerd too?"

I can't help but smile at him. "A little bit." I let him have that. "My sister always pushed me to be like her with her studying habits. It really only sank in further when she passed."

"But you've always enjoyed it?"

I laugh to myself. "Enjoy is a strong word." I murmur thoughtfully. Ethan smiles. "But I can't help it. I mean, I grew up like this. She made sure of it. She wanted me to get somewhere in life—Somewhere good."

"Good." Ethan repeats with an amused smile. "What about the rest of it?"

I frown. "The rest of what?"

"Everything." He shrugs. "What about living?"

I watch him strangely. "I am living."

"Surviving and living aren't the same thing." Ethan counters with a shake of his head. "How're you supposed to get somewhere good if you've never had a chance to live your own life? You know—In the moment type shit."

I scoff. "In the moment is irresponsible and irrelevant in the long run."

"That's exactly what I mean." He laughs as he gestures to me. "How often do you hang out with friends, Mallory? How often do you actually do something? Anything even remotely fun?" He questions skeptically. "How many days do you spend cooped up in a library with homework?"

All of my answers to all of those questions make me frown. I start to shake my head, my mouth beginning to open and close like a fucking fish.

"I don't like you, Ethan."

He laughs loudly as he looks away and starts to stand up off the ground. "I'm not trying to bash your lifestyle. If you like the way you do things, then keep going." He hums thoughtfully as he wanders off a few feet. He pauses and turns back to me to smile. "Just think about it." He suggests with a shrug. Then rolls his eyes, still smiling. "Outside of the long run."

I stare at him silently for what feels like forever. But really it's only a handful of seconds before he turns away again and wanders off into a new aisle. Maybe to find us a new book to read stupidly out loud.

Think outside of the long run?

How much good could that possibly do me?