"Hey, Luke—good luck!" Who called to me? The hall was jammed with kids excited about the first day of school. I was excited, too. My first day in seventh grade. My first day at Shawnee Valley Junior High. I just knew this was going to be an awesome year. Of course, I didn't take any chances. I wore my lucky shirt. It's a faded green T–shirt, kind of stretched out, and the pocket is a little torn. But no way I'd start a school year without my lucky shirt. And I had my lucky rabbit's foot in the pocket of my baggy khakis. It's black and very soft and furry. It's a key chain, but I don't want to ruin the good luck by hanging keys on it. Why is it so lucky? Well, it's a black rabbit's foot, which is very rare. And I found it last November on my birthday. After I found it, my parents gave me the new computer I wanted. So, it brought me good luck—right? I glanced up at the red-and-black computer-printed banner hanging over the hall: Go, Squires! Support your team! All of the boys' teams at Shawnee Valley are called the Squires. Don't ask me how they got that weird name. The banner made my heart race just a little. It reminded me that I had to find the basketball coach and ask when he was having tryouts. I had a whole list of things I wanted to do: (1) check out the computer lab; (2) find out about the basketball team; (3) see if I could take any kind of special swimming program after school. I never went to a school with a swimming pool before. And since swimming is my other big sport, I was pretty pumped about it. "Luke—hi!" I spun around to find my friend Hannah Marcum behind me, looking as cheerful and enthusiastic as always. Hannah has short coppery hair, the color of a bright new penny, green eyes, and a great smile. My mother always calls her Sunshine, which totally embarrasses both of us. "Your pocket is torn," she said. She tugged at it, ripping it a little more. "Hey—get off!" I backed away. "It's my lucky shirt." "Did you find your locker assignment yet?" She pointed to a group of kids studying a chart taped to the wall. They were all standing on tiptoe, trying to see over each other. "It's posted over there. Guess what? My locker is the first one outside the lunchroom. I'll be first for lunch every day." "Oooh, lucky," I said. "And I got Gruen for English," Hannah gushed. "He's the best! He's so funny. Everyone says you can't stop laughing. Did you get him too?" "No," I said. "I got Warren." Hannah made a face. "You're doomed." "Shut up," I said. "Don't say things like that." I squeezed my rabbit's foot three times. I pushed my way through the crowd to the locker chart. This is going to be an excellent year, I told myself. Junior High is so not like elementary school. "Hey, man—how's it going?" Darnell Cross slapped me a high five. "What's up?" I replied. "Check it out. You got the lucky locker," Darnell said. I squinted at the chart. "Huh? What do you mean?" I ran my eyes down the list of names until I came to mine: Luke Greene. And then I followed the dotted line to my locker number. "&newline&"And gasped. "No way!" I said out loud. "That can't be right." I blinked a few times, then focused on the chart again. Yes. Locker 13. Luke Greene . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . #13 #13. My breath caught in my throat. I started to choke. I turned away from the chart, hoping no one could see how upset I was. How can this be happening to me? I wondered. Locker 13? My whole year is ruined before it begins! My heart pounded so hard, my chest ached. I forced myself to start breathing again. I turned and found Hannah still standing there. "Where's your locker?" she asked. "I'll walk you there." "Uh . . . well . . . I can deal with it," I said. She squinted at me. "Excuse me?" "I can deal with it," I repeated shakily. "It's locker thirteen, but I can handle it. Really." Hannah laughed. "Luke, you're such a superstitious geek!" I frowned at her. "You mean that in a nice way—right?" I joked. She laughed again and shoved me into a crowd of kids. I wish she wouldn't shove me so much. She's really strong. I apologized to the kids I stumbled into. Then Hannah and I started down the crowded hall, checking the locker numbers, searching for number 13. Just past the science lab, Hannah stopped suddenly and grabbed something up from the floor. "Hey, wow! Look what I found!" She held up a five–dollar bill. "Mmmmm—yes!" She raised it to her lips and kissed it. "Five bucks! Yay!" I sighed and shook my head. "Hannah, how come you're always so lucky?" She didn't answer that question. It seemed like a simple question, but it wasn't. And if she had told me the answer, I think I would have run away—run as far as I could from Shawnee Valley Junior High, and never come back. TM & © 2000 Parachute Publishing, L.L.C."