“I doubt there are any left in the whole city of Chicago,” Leo says with a grin. “They must be using them all for Teddy’s check.”
I glance at my watch, realizing seventh period is about to start. I have physics, which is my only class with Teddy, and he usually stops here to switch out his books beforehand. But there’s still no sign of him.
“I should go,” I say, but just as I do I spot him at the far end of the hallway, walking with the principal, Mr. Andrews, who gives Teddy a hearty pat on the back before turning into the stairwell.
“What was that about?” Leo asks when Teddy makes his way over to us.
“He just wanted to say congratulations on behalf of the administration,” he says, clearly delighted. “And to remind me that the auditorium is in desperate need of repair.”
Leo laughs. “Man, is he ever barking up the wrong tree. You’ve never sat through a play in your life.”
“Yes, well, now that I’m a man of means,” Teddy says in a borderline English accent, lifting his chin and peering over his nose at us in a vaguely aristocratic fashion, “it’s not out of the question that I might become a patron of the arts.”
“So how’d it go this morning?” I ask, aware of how eager I sound but unable to tamp down my excitement. “Were they psyched to meet you? Do you feel different?”
“It was mostly just paperwork,” he admits. “But it was definitely the most exciting paperwork I’ve ever filled out.”
“I bet,” I say, as behind us Ms. Hershey, the French teacher, pokes her head out of her classroom and raises a finger to her lips. Teddy winks at her and she shakes her head at him, but she’s smiling. Not even teachers are immune to his charms.
“We should probably get going,” I say, pulling at his arm, and he lifts his other hand to give Leo a wave as we start to head off in opposite directions.
“See you later,Moneybags,” Leo calls out, and Teddy laughs, then turns back to me with a slightly dreamy expression.
“This is the best day ever,” he says. “I’ve only been here a couple hours and the whole school already knows. Oh, and I’ve been telling everyone how I owe it all to you, and now they all want to give you money for more tickets.”
I laugh. “I’m not sure there’s much chance of lightning striking twice.”
“That’s okay,” he says, slinging an arm around me, drawing me close so that his words ruffle my hair. “I kind of like having you as my own personal lucky charm.”
I smile into his chest, listening to the thump of his heart. “I think that’s the first time anyone’s ever called me lucky.”
Teddy stops walking, his arm slipping from my shoulders as he turns to me. “Al,” he says, his face suddenly very earnest. “You’re the luckiest thing that’s ever happened to me. You know that, right?”
I feel a rush of warmth, a fizzy lightness that makes me want to stand on my toes and kiss him again. “Teddy,” I begin, not completely sure what I’m going to say, but it doesn’t matter anyway, because I hear a voice behind me.
“Hi, Teddy,” says a freshman girl, her friends dissolving into giggles behind her. “Heard the big news. Congrats.”
As soon as he glances over at them, the moment between us is gone. “Thanks,” he says, giving them a crooked smile.
I shake my head once they’ve walked past. “I think you have a fan club.”
“I’ve always had a fan club,” he jokes, and I narrow my eyes at him.
“You better not lose your head over this, Teddy McAvoy,” I say as sternly as possible, but he’s grinning at me, and I’m grinning at him, and it’s hard to take any of this too seriously, even though I know perfectly well this is only the beginning.
It won’t be long before this will all get bigger. The news will travel even farther: it will be in the papers and on TV, it will light up the Internet and become public knowledge, a fact, forever a part of Teddy’s identity. Soon there will be even less of him to go around. And I know that will be too much to bear.
“I think we should make a deal,” he says, offering his hand, which I automatically take, nodding without even knowing what he’s about to suggest, which is exactly why I can’t trust myself around him.
“What kind of deal?”
“I promise not to let all this lottery stuff go to my head,” he says, gripping my hand. “As long as you promise to yell at me if it does.”
I laugh. “You know I’d yell at you even without the handshake, right?”
“Yeah,” he says, looking at me fondly. “I’m sort of counting on it.”
I hold his gaze a beat too long. “Okay, then. You’ve got yourself a deal.”
