Chapter 4

I unfolded the ticket, afraid to breathe. I stared at it and tried desperately to think. Could it really be possible? I certainly fit the manager's description well enough, and that was the store I had shopped at, in the middle of the night. My brain waged a civil war, with the sides clearly defined. Half of me wanted to leap into the air like an idiot football player and start gyrating. The other half quietly folded its arms and shook its head. Not possible, right?

"Dude... is that a lottery ticket?"

I just nodded, never taking my eyes off the scrap of paper.

"And did you buy it at that store, in the middle of the night, a couple of nights ago?"

I nodded again, feeling the blood start to tingle as my face got red.

"Holy shit, Dude..." Dean whispered.

I giggled once, nervously, then nodded my head once more, finally raising my eyes to his. I couldn't stop my face from splitting into a huge grin.

"Holy shit is right, Man..."

My voice quivered, and I fought to breathe normally. I stood up on suddenly restless legs and started to pace.

"OK... OK, let's hold on here. Maybe it wasn't me."

I was certain, though. My brain had rounded the corner, the war had been won, and I knew it was me.

"We need to check the winning number and see if this matches it. Do you know how we'd go about that?"

Dean was on his feet now, too, his eyes dancing as he fought to maintain his cool.

"You could go out on the net and look it up."

"My mom doesn't have internet access."

"7-11 posts them, I think, on a little tote board next to the register..."

We both fell silent, and I could hear my pulse pounding in my ears. With a shared grin, we broke for the stairs and hauled ass to my car. I slid into my seat as Dean was slamming his door.

"Go, go, go, Dude!"

I turned the key and the engine roared to life. I squealed the tires a bit as I raced up the street. My mind was hollering, but I was consciously trying not to think about anything. I deliberately increased my speed to force my mind to think about nothing but keeping the car under control. We squeaked around a corner, and I was forced to slam on the brakes for a stop sign. I came to a complete stop and looked over at Dean. He looked back at me, and we grinned like idiots again. I stomped the gas pedal and we roared through the intersection.

We pulled into the parking lot at breakneck speed, and I wheeled into a parking space, throwing the car into park and turning it off. I sat still for a moment, my eyes closed, and tried to prepare myself for... well, anything, I supposed.

"Do you want company?" Dean asked, suddenly quiet, too, as the potential gravity of the situation sunk in.

I shivered, my shoulder twitching, and then looked at him and smiled.

"Come on, man. Let's go check it out together."

We pushed our way through the door, and I fished out my wallet as we made our way to the register. The cashier looked up from where he was stocking quarts of oil onto a display.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah, where do you guys post the winning lottery numbers?"

"Right by the register. Let me know if you need anything else, OK?"

Neither of us answered, and my eyes fixed on a small placard next to the register. In grease pencil, the various lottery numbers, week by week, were etched in a wavering script. I fished out my ticket from my wallet and looked once at Dean, then at the sign. I held the ticket up in front of me and used it as a line of sight, scanning across the sign looking for the most recent posting for the MegaBall. I found it, but forced myself to take a long breath and read as slowly as I could.

12... and 12. One down.

14... and 14. That's two. Five more to go... could this really be happening?

19... yep, 19. Holy shit... my arm started to shake, and I coughed and shook my head a little bit, closing my eyes. I opened them again and looked back to the sign and my ticket.

27... 27. Oh my fucking God...

33... 33. No fucking way, man...

47... and 47. I stopped and closed my eyes, my pulse hammering.

"Dude... I can't look. What was the MegaBall number?"

"Uh... 13?"

I didn't open my eyes.

"And what's the last number on my ticket?"

"Uhhh... Holy SHIT, Dude! Fucking THIRTEEN!"

I don't remember a whole lot after that, though I know he clapped me on the back because that's what made me lose my balance. I fell, poleaxed, to the floor and just lay there, trying hard to just breathe. Seems simple, right? Just breathe. In and out, just like always. In and out. But for God's sake, whatever you do, don't let go of that precious little scrap of paper.

"Dude! Are you OK?" Dean's face entered my line of sight, worried. I grinned up at him, and his face split into a grin of its own. He stood up and held a hand out, and I grabbed it and hauled myself to my feet. I stepped back, looked down at my ticket, and then up at Dean.