LUCK HAS NOTHING

2: The Sorority

I was surfing that morning. Surfing was always a thing of mine; kind of a cliche for a Rich Kid From California, but whatever. There was something clear in it; don't ask me how.

It was dawn and, given that timing, the sight of my sister holding hands with some mystery guy was somewhat unexpected. Since when did Trina ever get up before noon? I tried to ignore her and Unknown Boyfriend, as I always ignored Trina whenever we were unfortunate enough to run into each other. She sold me out; I didn't want to see her again.

Trina also seemed to want to avoid me, but for whatever reason Anonymous Boyfriend was insisting. He indicated towards me and said something to her in hushed tones; I raised an eyebrow and drew myself back to the beach. They waited for me, and I felt a little anxious.

"Hey, little brother," Trina greeted me awkwardly, hand still wrapped around the boyfriend. I really had to learn his name.

"Hi Trina," I said slowly, with a distinct ton of "Why the fuck are you talking to me?" Trina and I hadn't even really seen each other since the debacle with Aaron; after she had gone on national TV and told the world how exactly I was the bad guy. I was justifiably pissed after that.

"Hey," said the boyfriend I didn't know. "I'm Jordan. Jordan Hayes. I'm... Trina's boyfriend."

I nodded. "I gathered as much," I paused. "Hey, I think you're brother goes to my school. Mercer?"

"Yeah," said Jordan. "I think everyone in this town goes to that school, so it's hardly surprising."

I nodded. Mercer Hayes was just another of the 09er douchebags who reveled in making my life hell; although he was a senior, so he I didn't see him as much as the others. I knew he was the son of a judge, and that he had brothers, but I had never met any of them. Except, y'know, for Trina dating on.

"Listen," said Jordan, a little uncomfortable. "Me and Trina are going to go have breakfast, down at that little cafe thing on the beach? You should come with."

"Jordan," hissed Trina, a little too loud. She nudged him with her foot obviously, and I felt a little simmer of rage at how blatantly ashamed of me she was. So I delighted in acting contrary to her wishes.

"Sure," I replied. "Sounds great."

Breakfast was, not particularly unsurprisingly, awkward. Jordan and Trina tried to make small talk – I obligatorily replied – but we all had to skirt around the issue of my father. Well, they did. I made smug little comments about him, mostly because it was fun to watch Trina's pupils dilate under the pressure of trying not to scream at me.

"So," she said in her most vapid voice. "I think that girl, on the set for Dad's new movie? Totally stalking me. One of those starlets, you know, red hair... can't remember her name."

"They have names now?" I asked. "I just kind of thought, y'know, they came in ready-made boxes for him," I joked. "I am Floozy-GD472, how may I be of service?" I finished in a robotic tone of voice. Jordan laughed a little, but Trina just rolled her eyes.

"Nice. But I swear, she's like, everywhere," Trina said. I shrugged.

"Whatever. I gotta see a man about a horse," I excused myself and headed to the bathroom. I did my business there and returned to find my sister and her boyfriend talking, about me.

"This is stupid," Trina told Jordan, pouting. "Why did you make him come with us? Don't I have the right to chop him out of my life, what the 'him stabbing our whole family in the back' thing?"

He sighed in reply. "Trina, I've met your dad and he's not worth shit. I half believe Logan-"

"My dad wouldn't-"

"Besides. Even if he is a lying little shit, he is still your little brother. I want to kill my brother half the time too for the crap he pulls, but I don't just pretend he doesn't exist anymore."

They both paused then, until Jordan cracked a little half-smile. "Besides. If your dad is so wonderful and infallible, then what are we doing with my 'movie'." He made actual, physical air-quotes on the word 'movie', so I inferred that it wasn't a movie in the strictest sense.

Trina grinned. "Oh, Daddy Dear. Always so eager to help his little girl, get her struggling director boyfriend's career off the ground," they both laughed, and I more or less pieced it together. "How much is this film going to take, again?"

Jordan chuckled. "Oh, only two million."

They leaned in for a kiss as I went back to the table, so they separated. "You're conning Dad?" I asked quickly, and Trina flushed red with indignation.

"What?" she asked. "You were eavesdropping?"

"More or less. Now, I have two things to say. One, you're a self-righteous hypocrite. Two, you're nuts."

"What?" Trina bit back defensively. "Were you laboring under the delusion you were still relevant to this family, after your whole betrayal thing?" She raised her voice, drawing the attention of our fellow customers.

"Trina-" Jordan stood and put a hand on her shoulder, but she shook him off. I continued, unthinking towards the fact we were being stared at.

"It doesn't matter. You know Dad. He'll figure it out, and he might punish you a bit worse than keeping you grounded for a few weeks," I told her.

"God, shut up!" she yelled, firmly in denial. "You're the idiot in this family, not me."

I sighed and looked at the resolution in her eyes; the confusion in Jordan's. I felt resigned. "Good luck, Trina," I said before I walked out. I meant it too.

Because vindictive, traitorous bitch or not, Trina was still my sister. I didn't want my dad to hurt her.

At school, I was irritated, but not all that surprised to find all the air let out of my back tires. It had only been the third time it had happened this week, after all. I sighed and automatically turned to my boot to get a jack and spare, but when I looked closer I saw that it wasn't sealed. It had been forced open, and when I looked inside, all tires and useful tools were gone. I turned around and saw a crowd of the 09ers, led by Dick Casablancas (obviously enough) sniggering at me.

I stood there, staring at my car in irritation for a few seconds. The thing is, when douches slash your tires? Annoying, but quickly fixed. When they slash your tires, steal your other tires and make it so you'll have to get the damn car repaired? That's... a little harder.

I noticed when someone approached me, however. A pretty girl; one of the 09ers that was always nicer than the rest of them. In fact, she had always been criminally nice. We made fun of her for it, back when I was one of them.

"Meg?" I asked her, a little skeptical. She smiled.

"Hey Logan," she said, then she looked down at my car. "Shit. You're not well liked, are you?"

"Really?" I replied dryly, crouching down to inspect the damage to my tires. "Never would have guessed."

"Isn't this like, the second time this has happened to you this week?"

"Third, but who's counting?" I said. "This time, they managed to break into the bot; steal my spares and jack. Makes it all a little bit harder."

Meg nodded and crouched down. "You know, sometimes, I really hate this school."

"You know, always, I really hate this school," I parroted. She smiled.

"I've got spares and a jack; you can use them. I'm hardly target practice around here; you need them more than I do."

I grinned a little. "This all feels very reactionary-against-gender-roles," I joked, and she laughed. "St. Meg to the rescue. Why am I even surprised?"

We stood, and she led me to her car. "Here," she said, handing me one of the tires. "I am not being the mule with these things."

We carried them back, only to be interrupted by a rather snooty a-hem. We turned, to see Lilly and favorite henchwoman, Madison Sinclair, looking at us with eyebrows raised.

"Well, gosh ladies," I started automatically. "I know I'm devastatingly sexy, but you could have a little more self-control than to just gape at me in the middle of the parking lot. For shame, women. For shame."

Lilly rolled her eyes and Madison gave me a disbelieving look. "Meg," Lilly addressed the blonde to my side. "What are you doing?"

Meg's posture hardened defensively, and I just knew they were unhappy she dared to talk to me. "Helping Logan with a flat," she said blankly. Lilly and Madison wore dubious expressions.

"Uh," started Madison. "We were meant to go shopping," she said, not making the cue particularly subtle. Meg just shrugged it off, however.

"Yeah, in a second. Once this is done."

Lilly threw her hands up. "Forget it. We'll go alone."

They stormed off then, and I looked back at Meg. "Sorry. Must remember how widely you people hate me. Hopefully, they won't do the same to you."

She shrugged. "They'll get over it. Everyone thinks I'm too damn nice to everyone anyway; that includes resident Psycho Boy."

I smiled and we dragged her stuff back to my car. "Thanks," I told her.

"Don't mention it," she said, then she left.

At home that night, I had a dream. All Martin Luther King jokes aside; this dream was kind of creepy and important.

It started with me in a dark, dim cavern; blue crystal glowing around my neck. I looked up and felt dizzy; I was lost, although my settings seemed familiar somehow. I turned to hear footsteps approaching me from behind, and soon a figure emerged from the darkness.

A figure clad in his soccer uniform; pale as death – due to the being dead thing – yet wearing an amused grin. "Duncan?" I asked him.

"Yeah. How've you been, Echolls?"

"Shit," I said bluntly. "What's going on? Where are we?"

He furrowed his brow. "You don't remember this?" He asked, tapping a finger on the wall. "Oh well. It was crap, and like, five years ago. So I can't really blame you."

I looked around and suddenly realized where I was. This was level one of a video game I used to own, back when I was twelve. It was boring as hell, and neither Duncan or I could ever win at it. Eventually, I accidentally-on-purpose smashed the disc in frustration. Dad put a cigarette out on my hand for that (and my dad didn't even smoke), but that wasn't exactly a surprise,

"Oh. Yeah. Now I remember," I said, sitting down on the ground. Idly, my fingers played with the crystal around my neck, as Duncan sat next to me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him, and he chuckled.

"Dude, I am dead. Why would I be here?"

"To impart important and meaningful advice?"

"Got it in one," he answered. "You're lost, Echolls."

"Like you didn't always fail at this game too? Besides, it's dark."

He shook his head. "I wasn't talking about the game. Although it's kind of a nice metaphor," he said, and I had kind of figured that out. "The thing is – Aaron killed me. You know that. You tried to punish him for it, a year ago."

I shook my head. "And?"

"Listen man," he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I know you've been through hell. I wish I was here to help you through it, make no jokes about how gay that is. But you've forgotten what you need to do; what you need to do for me. Aaron is, after all, still out there."

I looked him in the eye. "I tried. I tried and it didn't work. So what am I meant to do?" I asked. He shrugged.

"Get more evidence?" he said. "I don't know. I just really don't want my murderer prancing about free for the rest of eternity... or however long he lives, I don't know."

I nodded. "I miss you, man," I whispered, and there was a pause. "You tell anyone I said that, you're dead."

Duncan furrowed his brow and laughed. "I'm already dead, you know."

"Okay, good point."

"Besides, given I'm just a figment of your subconscious, who exactly am I going to tell?"

"Dude, shut up."

I awoke to hear someone pounding on my front door like they were being followed by mutant killer zombies. Eyes bleary, I turned to my clock to find it was precisely 3:28 AM. I groaned; who the hell was waking me up at half-past three in the morning?

Irritated, I dragged myself to the front door. Swinging it open, I had to suppress a gasp. There was Trina; and she looked like shit.

She was leaning against the doorframe unsteadily, as if she couldn't walk. Her face and arms were covered in bruises; tears dripped from her eyes. She looked like she had been beaten, and cried for hours.

"Trina?" I said, taking her hand to lead her in, all trace of sarcasm gone. "What happened?" I asked, even though I already had a pretty solid idea.

"Dad found out about the con," she confirmed my suspicions in a broken voice, before collapsing on my couch. I sat with her. "Logan, I... I've never seen him like that. He was so angry, I just..."

I bit my bottom lip. "I have," I whispered, and I saw something like guilt flicker in my sister's eyes. She didn't respond, however.

I looked at Trina's broken frame for a little, and suddenly I started to get it:

Aaron Echolls hurt my sister.

Aaron Echolls hurt everyone I ever loved.

Aaron Echolls killed my best friend.

Aaron Echolls hurt me.

Aaron Echolls would pay.