There are a million things that are considered lucky in life. Some include finding a four- leaf clover, a lady bug, or something common like a penny. There are also a million things you can wish upon to better your chances of it coming true: a shooting star, wishbone, eyelash, and many more. This is because people want to be lucky. They want someone to say, “this little stone will make everything work out for you. All you have to do is hold it.” People will do anything, if you tell them it will make them lucky. Dylan is no different.

Dylan wakes up feeling the same way she does every morning, unmotivated and bitter. But she somehow manages to make it to school. She slumps down in the back of the classroom, making no eye contact with anyone, not even people she would considered “not terrible.” AJ, one of the “not terrible’s,” smiles and waves at her. Dylan pretends to not see it.

Mr. Hue clears his throat and steps in front of the class. “Good morning, everyone.” Silence. “I said, good morning, everyone.” The students respond. Well, everyone but Dylan responds. Mr. Hue continues: “As you all know, I am going to be passing out your test scores.” Dylan cringes. Mr. Hue asks, “Indie, will you help?” Indie steps right up, grabbing the papers.

Dylan has her head down on the desk as Indie tries to lay Dylan’s test down. Indie eventually has to say, “Sorry, Dylan,” as she lays it on top of her head. Dylan snatches the paper off and does not even glance at it before shoving it into her bag. Why look at something that you know is going to make you disappointed?

Dylan makes it through four periods without starving to death. She practically leaps out of her chair, when she hears the bell ring that signals it’s time for lunch. There is a lot wrong with this school, but there is at least one thing that they are doing right and that is hot wings.

Dylan makes it to the lunch room way before anyone else. As soon as she opens the door she can tell something is wrong. It doesn’t smell like hot wing day. Why is her nose not burning? Why can’t she smell the signature sauce? It smells like nothing, absolutely nothing. She rushes over to the line to see what’s wrong.

“What—It’s Wednesday. Where are the hot wings,” she asks the lunch lady, who is standing behind the bar.

“We’re not serving hot wings today. Ham sandwiches with a fresh fruit cup is what you get.” Dylan can’t control her face. Her eyebrows furrow and her mouth tightens. She thinks about complaining, but what’s the point? She takes a bland sandwich and fruit cup that is definitely not fresh and makes her way to her usual seat. A seat that is 10 feet away from everybody else.

The rest of the day goes by just like any other day, slowly and regretfully. She gets back to her car with one unread message waiting for her. It’s from her mom: “Hey, baby. I’m sorry but I’m not going to be able to make it to your game tonight. Good luck! Have fun.” Dylan reads the message with a blank expression. Her eyebrows don’t raise and her mouth doesn’t open. Why would they? She is not surprised.

Dylan’s arrives to her game on time. She drops her bag in its usual spot in the dugout. Then, she goes and warms up with El.They throw a few balls. The first few are perfectly aimed right after the other. Then, they become spastic and careless as El and Dylan begin to talk.

“I had a great day today. I made an A on my chem paper and me and Alan had a full on conversation at lunch. How was your day,” El asked.

“It sucked.”

“Oh, well I’m sure it’s going to get better after this game. I mean look at them. We’re gong to crush em.”

“I don’t know about that. Their pitcher is like unhittable.”

El shrugs her head and instead of throwing the ball, she jogs over to Dylan. “Come on don’t say that. We’re going to be great,” El says as she shakes Dylan’s shoulders. Dylan just shrugs her shoulders.

El says, “We’re warm. Let’s go.” They walk back to the dugout and wait for the game to begin.

El is 5th in the batting line up, and Dylan is 8th. This allows for Dylan to be able to watch El before she gets to go. She gets to watch her get on base every time. Not only does Dylan get to watch El score, but El gets to watch Dylan fail. Every time Dylan comes back to the dugout El is hyping her up. It would be awkward if Dylan didn’t act a little excited, so she puts on this fake smile. She’s been up to bat 4 times and hasn’t even made contact with the ball yet. It is save to say her smile is definitely fading.

On Dylan’s last at bat, El gives her this big speech: “Ok, look. I know you haven’t had to best game, but this is your moment. You know how she pitches now. You can do this.”

“Yeah, ok.”

Dylan walks out to the on deck circle. Her shoulders are slumped, and she barely takes one swing while she is waiting. As she steps up to the plate, she can hear El scream: “Let’s go!”

Dylan places one foot in and takes a deep breath. She digs in the dirt with her cleat and then steps in the box with her other foot. The pitcher takes her time looking at her coach for what pitch to throw. When she gets the signal, she begins her wind up. Dylan’s heart begins to beat faster than she thought it could. The balls zooms past, Dylan. The umpire yells, “STRIKE.” Dylan steps out of the box, rolling her eyes. That was so not a strike.

El shouts from the dugout, “That’s ok.” Dylan steps back into the box. She doesn’t bother with getting her footing right. She just wants this to be over. The pitcher throws another ball. This time, Dylan finally makes contact. It flys directly to the short stop. Of course, she catches it. Dylan doesn’t bother to run all the way to first. She stops as soon as the umpire yells, “OUT.”

El tries to comfort Dylan by saying, “At least you made contact. That’s improvement. Next time, you’ll definitely get on base.” However, there is no next time because the game is over before Dylan gets another at bat. She makes it back to her house. She can feel her self-pity tears start to fall as soon as she steps foot into her room.

Dylan has been full of self-pity since the day she was born. Things just seem to not go her way. She’s never first. Teachers see her as a lost cause. Boys only look at her once they're done looking at her friends, and she’s had four broken bones in the last two years. She’s used to being disappointed, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Saturday, the day after the game, she wakes up bright and early to get ready for her shift at the thrift store. Her mom is making her do charity whenever she has free time because her grades are not going to get her into college. She doesn’t hate it. She likes the idea that she’s getting to help people. She just wishes she could have a Saturday to do nothing every once in a while.

Dylan walks into the store, going straight to work on her usual tasks. She begins rummaging through the piles and piles of donations, looking for clothes. She hangs up the clothing, sorting them by size, gender, and type.

“Hey, Dylan,” Asha says.
“Hi.”
Asha continues on to the back of the store, where she is placing new items.

Dylan only checks her watch every fifteen minutes to see how much time is left until she can go home. This is an improvement from last week, which was every five minutes.

Dylan perks up when she sees Edith walk into the store. Edith comes in every couple weeks, always searching for new kitchen wear. Sometimes she’ll bring in items to donate. The items always come with a story.

“Hi, Edith,” Dylan says.

“Hey, sweetie.”

“Whatcha looking for today?”

“Actually, I’m not looking for anything today.”

“Oh, really? Dropping something off?”

“I was cleaning out my garage a couple days ago when I found this.” Edith places a rock onto the counter, which is in front of Dylan. Dylan crinkles her brows and stares at the triangular shaped rock. It is the color of the night sky, and it looks as if it is glowing.

“It’s beautiful. What is it?”

“It’s why I have been married for sixty years and have three beautiful children and seven generous grand babies.”

Dylan stutters, “So..I mean. What?”

“It’s a shooting star. It’s been passed down from generations to generations. I got it from my mom and my mom got it from my grandma. It brings good luck. It has made my family extremely wealthy and successful.

“A shooting star?”

“Yes, my great great grandma was out on her farm when she saw this shooting star. It flew all around the night sky until it dropped right in front of her feet.”

Dylan kind of giggles. “Are you messing with me?”

Edith stands up, defensibility. “No! I am telling the truth. This is why my family is the way it is.”

“Well, then, what are you doing with it here?”

“I’m giving it to you.”

“But... I thought you said it was a family tradition. What about your children?”

“They’re all boys. It has to be given to a woman.”

Dylan looks at the rock, curiously.“Why?”

“It just does. Do you want it?”

Dylan takes a second to think. “I don’t know.”

“Oh come on... It would make all your dreams come true.”

Dylan shakes her head and picks up the rock. “I could really use some good luck.”

“That’s wonderful! I bet you’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted by the end of next week. When my mom gave me the rock, I was failing college and struggling to pay my rent. Then, after one week of having the rock, my grade went from an F to a B, and a man at work gave me a generous tip that covered my rent.”

Dylan’s mouth hangs open as Edith finishes telling her story. “Are you serious?”

“I would never lie to you.”

“Ok then, I’ll take it! Thank you!”

Asha comes out from the back of the store. “Hey, Mrs. Holts.” She looks at the glowing rock in Dylan’s hand. “What’s that?”

Dylan opens her mouth to answer, but is cut off by Edith. “It’s a family heirloom. I was just showing it to Dylan.”

“Oh, ok.” Asha says as she continues walking away. As soon as Edith cannot see her, she rolls her eyes.

Edith looks back to Dylan. “I have to go now. I have to go pick up my husband at the airport. He just got back from his work trip in Hawaii.”
Dylan doesn’t look up from the sparking rock in her hands.

“Ok, bye.” She doesn’t stop staring until her boss comes over and makes her get back to work.

The next morning, Dylan feels different. She wakes up earlier than usual, and yet she’s not tired. She has a pep in her step as she walks to her first period class. When she takes a seat, she immediately gets out her books and starts prepping for the class. Mr. Hue gives out extra credit to the students that answer questions correctly during the class. Dylan usually doesn’t try to get them correct, but today she has the power of the shooting star.

As the class goes on, Dylan is on the edge of her seat, waiting for Mr. Hue to ask a question. She thinks he never will, but Mr. Hue finally asks the class: “Ok. Who can tell me, the first step in solving a quadratic equation by completing the square?” Dylan throws her arm up into the air. Mr. Hue points to Dylan saying, “Dylan!”

“You start by plugging in the values for the equation of -b squared divided by 2 squared.”

Mr. Hue doesn’t respond right away, surprised that Dylan answered. He eventually nods his head and says, “correct!”

By the end of the class, Dylan has earned four extra credit points. She even has some free time, so she decides to study for the quiz in her next period.

While Dylan is waiting for Ms. Tren to pass out the quizzes, AJ asks her, “Are you ready for this quiz?”

“Yes.”

“For real? I’m gonna fail.”

“I’m gonna kill it.”

AJ puts his head down on his desk. “That’s great.” Dylan just smiles and continues doodling.

Ms. Tren walks to the front of the class. “Ok everyone, I’m about to pass outs y’all’s quizzes. Put away your notes.” Dylan puts away her notebooks, leaving only a pencil on her desk.

“How did you do,” AJ asks as they walk to their 3rd period.

“Great, made a 100.”

“Wow, I made a 56.”

Dylan laughs. AJ shoves past her, saying, “Shut up, you’re literally failing math right now.”

“Not for long!”

Dylan was in fact correct about that because by Friday, she no longer had a “F” in math, but a “C.”

The sun is out and burning bright today. Dylan lathers up her sunscreen and rubs it over her entire body. She used to hate the fact that long pants were part of her softball uniform, but now she appreciates the protection that it gives her from the sun.

“Give me some of that,” El says to Dylan as she passes her in the dugout. Dylan throws her the bottle. El continues, “Not gonna lie, I’m a little nervous.”

“Why,” Dylan responds.

“They’re undefeated.”

“Yes, but so are we.”

“Yeah...”

Dylan grabs her glove and a ball and says, “Come on let’s go! We have nothing to worry about!” El takes a deep breath. She grabs her glove and runs after Dylan. Dylan stops running, forcing El to run into her.

“Hey,” El shouts as she knocks into Dylan.

“Sorry,” Dylan says as she looks at her Apple Watch with eyebrows raised. She got a textfrom her mom.

“What is it?”

“My mom is here.” Dylan starts to look around, searching for her mom.

“Look, there she is,” El says pointing to a woman dressed in their team colors, purple and black. Dylan looks at her and waves. Her mom waves back.

“Wow,” Dylan says.

“Come on. Let’s get warm.”

Dylan is up to bat. Right now, they are down by three. Nobody has been able to get on base yet, and it’s the 5th inning. If they’re going to come back, Dylan needs to get on base. She steps in the box with her head held high. She is ready to start a rally. Unlike the other games, she can’t hear El from the dugout. This is because El is not cheering. She needs this. The team needs this

The pitcher begins her wind up. Dylan takes a deep breath. The pitcher releases the ball. Don’t swing. Don’t swing. The umpire yells, “BALL.” Dylan steps out of the box, sighing in relief. Ok. You can do this. Dylan steps back into the box. The pitcher looks to her coach, then again, begins her wind up. She releases the ball. This is a good pitch. HIT IT. Dylan swings, putting her entire body into it. She makes contact and the ball launches into the outfield.

The crowd goes crazy. Her team is screaming. She can finally hear El: “LET’’S GO” Dylan runs and runs until her coach signals her to stop. She makes it to third base. Her coach gives her a high five and congratulates her. Dylan cannot contain the excitement she is feeling. She cheers for the next girl who is up to bat.

The next three girls end up scoring, including Dylan. Now all they have to do is hold them for two more innings.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity they are in the last inning, with only one out to go. Dylan has been praying the entire time for the game to just be over. She’s confident, but that doesn’t mean she has no nerves.

She takes a few breaths and prepares herself just in case a ball is hit to her. Nobody has hit to the right field yet, but there’s always a chance. She sees their pitcher release the ball. The hitter hits the ball towards 3rd base. The umpire yells, “FOUL.” The hitter sprints back to home plate with a disappointed expression. Dylan feels for her. She has been fouling for a while now. The count is 3-2.

The pitch flies across the plate. The hitter smiles and throws her bat towards the dugout. The umpire yells, “STRIKE.” The entire opposing teams erupts in anger. However, Dylan’s team practically falls to their knees in excitement. Dylan runs to El, who is by 3rd base. She tackles her in a hug. El hugs her back, laughing so loud that it hurts Dylan’s ear drums.

After the game, Dylan and El have a celebratory trip to Pizza Hut. They are in this extremely small town, where there aren’t many options. However, nothing can really beat pizza after a long day of winning. Dylan and El are sitting in a booth, both scarfing down some double stuffed crust pepperoni pizza.

“You were on fire today,” El says to Dylan.

‘“I know right. It was crazy.”

“What’s your secret?”

Dylan takes a while to respond. “If I tell you, you can’t judge.”

“Never.”

“An old lady at the thrift store gave me a shooting star and it made me extremely lucky.”

El just stares at Dylan. “What?”

“I’m not joking.”

“Ok. I mean I don’t know if I believe you but whatever it is, it’s obviously working, so keep doing it.”

Dylan crosses her arms: “I’m telling the truth.”

El nods her head and says “ok,” in a mocking tone. Dylan spends the rest of the night trying to convince El that the shooting star is real. El tells her she believes her, but Dylan doesn’t know if she is just lying to make her stop talking.

The next day, Saturday, Dylan gets up and goes to the thrift store. She hopes she sees Edith. She needs to thank her for the star. She was right. It has completely changed her life. When she arrives, she sees Asha sorting some clothes. She goes up to her to say hi because she has to be a little friendly.

“Hi, Asha.”

“Hi.”

Dylan places her bag down and awkwardly starts to help Asha sort the clothes. Asha looks down at her bag and sees the triangular shaped rock. “Is that the thing Mrs. Holts gave you?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you carrying it around.”

“It gives me luck.”

Asha laughs and rolls her eyes: “Yeah, right.”

“It does.”

“Please. She probably found it at the Dollar Store. I mean look at it. It’s not even glowing anymore. The batteries must have died.”

Dylan looks at the star. “It’s not battery powered. It’s a star.”

Asha laughs even harder, causing her to throw her head back. “Dylan, sweetie, it’s just a piece of trash.”

Dylan grabs her bag and storms off. Asha is wrong. She can find something else to do. Dylan ends up just sorting some different clothes in a different room, far away from Asha. She puts in her Air Pods. tuning out the world. She just wants to get her work done where she can go home and watch trashy reality tv.

Right before she is going to walk out of the store, a lady comes in. She’s wearing a big red hat, with sun glasses. She looks kinda of stupid, but also intriguing. She takes off the sun glasses, and Dylan looks at her very confused. She looks just like Edith. She feels like she just traveled back in time because this had to be what Edith looked like when she was younger. Dylan is so shocked by the lady’s facial similarities that she goes up and talks to her.

“Hey, is there anything that I can help you with?”

“Actually, yes. Do you know my mom? She is a frequent customer here. She has long silver hair and is always wearing a dress with those ugly big fur boots.” Dylan looks at the woman and can’t help but make a nasty expression.

The woman asks “did I say something to offend you?”

Dylan quickly recovers her face: “No... umm... Is your mom Edith?”

“Yes.”

“I thought she didn’t have any daughters.”

“She has three.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Dylan feels like a complete idiot. The lady continues, “Anyway so my mom donated some old toys of mine a couple weeks ago and I was really hopping that you haven’t sold them yet. I really want to give them to my kids. It was a few American girl dolls and a barbie house.”

Dylan’s mood has completely fallen. Asha was right. Dylan responds, “I’ll go check for you.”

“Thank you so much.”

Dylan ends up staying for a couple more hours. She finds sorting clothes distracts her from her thoughts: How could you be so stupid. This is so embarrassing. On her way out she sees Asha in the parking lot.

“Bye, Dylan.”

Dylan doesn’t respond she just gets into her car. She sits there for a minute while she figures out what she wants to listen to on her drive back. Asha comes up to her window and knocks on it. Dylan looks up at her. Ugh...What does she want?

Dylan rolls down her window: “What?”

“Are you ok?”

“Yes.”

“You just seem a little upset.”

“Yes, but I don’t want to talk about it. So please go away.” Dylan tries to roll the window back up, but Asha won’t remove her hand.

“You found out the star isn’t real, right?”

“Oh my God! Go away!”

Asha smiles, “I told you so.”

Dylan looks away: “I hate you.”

“Look everyone has their weak moments. Don’t be embarrassed. I’m sure one day I’ll believe in something stupid too.”

“I just don’t understand why everything started to go my way.”

Asha takes a moment to collect her thoughts. “I guess it’s because you believed they would.

“That’s stupid, Dylan responds as she pulls out of the parking lot, speeding away from Asha. She can hear Asha form the distance:

“Not as stupid as believing a cheap plastic rock is a shooting star that can change your life.”