Blame It on Bad Luck

I liked to think of myself as an optimistic person. I had my bad days of course, those days where I just felt like crawling into a hole and sleeping for the rest of my life, but didn’t we all? I just tried not to have those bad days too often, and I tried to look on the bright side.

Sometimes though, the bright side is really hard to find, and sometimes you just get tired of looking. This was one of those times.

At first, it wasn’t all happening at once like you would have thought. It was a gradual progression, and for the first couple of weeks, the bad things were little. It started off that I would lose a few things, like my car keys or my house key; then, the bad things started happening more often and they got worse.

The morning my car wouldn’t start, the car I had had since I moved to Sheffield four years ago, was where it all started to escalate, though.

As I walked out of my apartment building into the grim morning that was Sheffield, it was a cool 65 degrees despite the fact that it was August; in Sheffield this was considered hot though, so my attire of a t-shirt, jeans, and flip flops was acceptable. My small red car was parked in the tiny parking lot off to the side of the apartment building, only permitted to be used by residents of the building. I knew this because I paid a cool annual fee of 100 or so pounds to park there each month. The amount was worth it though to have a reserved parking space always there waiting for you. I walked over to my car and got in, shoving the silver key into the ignition.

I guess after you have a car for four years, you should expect that things are going to start to go wrong. You would also expect that it would be a gradual kind of thing. But as I said, my luck was all but running out, and so nothing would be as I expected.

I sat and waited as I listened to the engine making funny noises as it tried to start, but to no avail. “You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered under my breath as I kept trying to start the stupid piece of crap that was my little car. Of course, no one told me about flooding an engine or all the other things that could go wrong with a car if you try to start it when it just shouldn’t be started. Of course, my common sense was lacking when it came to automobiles and I just flat out didn’t know any of that.

After about the tenth try of trying to start my car with no luck, I grumbled a few profanities and dug through my purse for my cell phone. I needed to get a hold of someone who could give me a ride to work; just because I owned my own bookstore with one of my best friends didn’t mean I couldn’t just not show up. I had to open up, or else I wouldn’t be eating food for the next few weeks.

“Come on, come on. Pick up,” I grumbled. He had to be up. He had to have his phone with him; he always had his phone with him.

“Finleh? Wha’ the bloody hell do yeh want?” he asked groggily, obviously just waking up.

“I need a ride to the bookstore. My car just died and I have to get to the store because Abbey’s not coming in until later and I’m the only one working in the morning who can open.”

He muttered a few obscenities before agreeing to pick me up. “Be there in fifteen,” he said shortly before hanging up.

I just thanked my lucky stars he was a fast driver and was pulling up in front of my building ten minutes later.

“Thank you,” I gushed as I climbed into his tiny car. “With the way my luck’s going, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you hadn’t answered or some other crazy shit.”

He smiled. “Just call meh Matt Nicholls, lifesaver.” He gave me a quick wink before pulling out into the road and heading towards the store.

We were quiet for the drive, since it was early in the morning and I was sure Matt was still exhausted; he had just gotten home two days ago from touring for several months straight in the US, and I knew it probably hadn’t caught up on his sleep. After being best friends for four years, you start to know every little detail about a person.

Matt parked in front of the Book Store (original name, I know) and I climbed out. I stopped before shutting the door and leaned back into the vehicle. “I’m going to need a ride home if you aren’t busy. I’m honestly not sure when or if Abbey’s coming in,” I told him with a roll of my eyes.

He just laughed and nodded. “I’ll see wha’ I can do for yeh.” He winked again and then waved good bye before I shut the door and he drove off. I watched his car drive off for a minute before turning and heading into the bookstore.

Surprisingly, the door was unlocked, the lights inside were on, and the sign on the front of the door was flipped over to read “OPEN”. I smiled as I pushed the wooden door open, stepping into the store.

“Abbey?” I called out, knowing my best friend had actually came into work that morning to open up for me before she headed off for her doctor’s appointment.

“Back ‘ere!” she called out. I spotted her fire read hair peeking out from behind a book case first and smiled. Abbey was anything but predictable, as I had come to figure out in the past six years that I had known her, but her signature fire red hair would always be there. It was slightly ridiculous how much comfort I took in that small little tidbit of information.

“Wasn’t sure if you were actually coming in today or not,” I smirked as I walked by her to put my stuff in the little room in the back that doubled as my office and the room Abbey and I took our breaks in most of the time. After I threw my purse on the desk and checked the phone for messages, I headed back out into the store.

“I called in to see if yeh were ‘ere, and when yeh weren’ I came in to open until yeh got here.” She smirked at me at her obvious display of independence I assumed and added, “Where were yeh, anyways? Yeh’re never late.”

I rolled my eyes as I headed up to the cash register. Abbey was right, though. Aside from my rather uncharacteristic and unpredictable move to Sheffield when I was 18, I had always been rather, well… predictable. “My unreliable piece of shit car wouldn’t start this morning, so Matt had to come get me.”

“Yeh need a new car, Fin,” she stated obviously. I just rolled my eyes again as I hopped up onto the stool that we kept behind the counter and started to go over the list sitting out for what I would have to do that day.

“Way to state the obvious, Ab. I just don’t exactly have the money for a car right now. And plus, I can always use Dylan’s,” I told her with a shrug as I mentioned my boyfriend of one year. I smiled just thinking about him, and my heart tugged at the thought. He was in a band, a small band that was touring a lot to try and get noticed so I didn’t get to see him as much as I would have liked. But those were the breaks I suppose.

“Can yeh not go all loveh-doveh righ’ now? Yeh make meh sick,” she said, faking a gag to emphasize her point.

I just laughed. “Can it, Abbs. Speaking of Dylan, he comes home tonight!” I exclaimed, remembering my boyfriend’s homecoming.

“So I shouldn’ come home, yeah?” she joked.

I just rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out playfully.

Abbey and I had been friends ever since I moved to Sheffield. I went to the University of Sheffield and Abbey and I were roommates. We almost instantly hit it off, and ended up being roommates all throughout our time at the University, and then got an apartment together once we graduated. We were such good friends that we even bought the Book Store together; we were both determined to have our own store so we could do something we loved with someone we loved instead of working a job we hated.

Abbey laughed and walked around the counter to grab her purse sitting at my feet. “Alrigh’, well I have a doctor’s appointment so I’ll see you lata. Put a sock on the door if yeh and Dylan are gettin’ it on, yeah?” She winked and kissed my cheek quick before heading out.

I sighed as I rested my elbows on the counter and started to braid my long, brown hair. I could only hope that the rest of the day would go smoothly and quickly.

But as I said, my luck was running out, and nothing would go smoothly.

***

As I stood in the doorway of the Book Store at ten o’clock waiting for my ride, I was starting to get impatient. I didn’t care that I had to wait for Matt to come get me necessarily, but I wanted to get home because I knew Dylan would be getting home soon and I wanted to see him.

But, when I had called Matt over an hour ago, he had sounded completely baked, and I knew that his high was going to take at least an hour to wear off, if that. He had laughed and told me not to worry when I called, that he’d take care of it, but now that it was nearing a quarter after ten, I was starting to doubt him.

I waited for another five minutes before deciding to call Matt again. I pulled my iPhone out of my pocket and dialed Matt’s number, praying he would answer. I tapped my foot impatiently as the phone rung once, twice, three times, and then someone answered with a groggy, “’Ello?”

“Matthew Nicholls, you better have a really good explanation for why your ass isn’t in your car, on your way to pick me up.”

There were a few profanities on the other end of the line and then a crash. “Shit!” he exclaimed, sounding faraway before continuing to talk to me. I rolled my eyes. He probably fell out of bed. “’m sorry, Fin. I fell asleep. I’ll be there in abou’ ten minutes, alrigh’?”

I rolled my eyes again before grumbling a confirmation and hanging up.

Fifteen minutes later, Matt was pulling up in front of the shop as I was locking up. I hurried to his car, seeing as it was drizzling lightly, a common occurrence in Sheffield. When I got in, Matt almost immediately started apologizing. “’m sorry,” he mumbled, driving away from the shop.

I merely shrugged and crossed my arms in front of my chest in a huff. After being friends with Matt for five years, you would have thought I would have started to be some what of a priority to him in that time. But no, I was still just Finley Rose Mason, the girl he couldn’t have cared less about. I was slowly starting to understand why Matt didn’t keep girlfriends.

“Aw, come off it Finleh. I didn’ mean to forget about yeh, I just fell asleep, yeah?”

I continued to give him the cold shoulder the whole ride to my flat. I didn’t even say goodbye when I climbed out of his car, and I probably wouldn’t have stopped if he hadn’t said my name. “Don’ be mad,” he told me. “There’s a party tomorrow nigh’ and yeh’re goin’, alrigh’?”

I rolled my eyes but nodded, knowing I wouldn’t miss out on a party, not when it was going to give me the chance to hang out with both my boyfriend and my best friend. “Fine. Text me details later.” When Matt smirked and nodded, I gave him a small smile before closing the door to his car and heading inside the building and going up to my flat.

I guess after the day I had, I should have been prepared for what was awaiting me on the door to my flat when I got home. I should have been prepared, but I wasn’t. I was Miss Optimistic after all, and even after all the bad luck I had been experiencing I still didn’t think it would get this bad.

But it did. And it was just going to get worse.

Because on the door to my flat was a note from my boyfriend of over a year saying we were done, that he was breaking up with me for some girl he met at one of their gigs. He felt they really connected, on some level I wouldn’t even begin to comprehend, or so the note read. That is, the note read before I ripped it up and stormed inside my apartment to burn it.

It wasn’t fair; my whole life, I had done everything right. I had done what was expected of me, I had set the right examples, and I was overall the good girl. Now suddenly, at twenty-three, I was getting screwed over for all the good stuff I had done in my life? “Fuck that,” I mumbled through the few tears I was shedding over my break-up. The weird thing was, I wasn’t really all that sad. I was just angry. I was sick and tired of being the nice girl and getting walked all over.

“Starting now,” I said to myself as I continued to light pictures of Dylan and me on fire and set them in the sink full of water, “I’m done with being a nice girl. It’s time to do whatever the fuck I want.” Even though I sounded confident to my own ears, I knew the idea scared me a little. But that was okay, because I was ready for a change, and I would be damned if it wasn’t for the better.

Starting right then, I made a vow. No more being predictable. That was the old Finley; the new and improved Finley was going to have it her way, consequences be damned.