Probability's Price

6 - A Whisper of Unluck

Chapter 4: A Whisper of Unluck

The lingering scent of old paper and dust still hung in the air, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor fading around Nicolás as he clutched his phone. Putri's number. In his contacts. He felt a foolish grin stretch across his face, his chest swelling with a triumph that made the previous library incident, the student's falling books, seem like a cosmic price worth paying. Or maybe, he thought, it was just a random mishap, nothing to do with him at all. His internal hum was a vibrant, joyful symphony, oblivious to discordant notes elsewhere.

"Platypus," he mumbled to himself, striding out of the library, the setting sun painting the campus quad in hues of orange and purple. "We did it. Phase Two complete. I'm practically a smooth operator now. A probabilistic Romeo."

His phone buzzed. A message from Putri.

"Hey Nicolás! Got a time for the study group yet? Leo and Sarah are free Thursday evening. Want to join?"

Nicolás nearly fumbled his phone. Thursday evening! With Putri! And his buddies!

"Yes!" he exclaimed aloud, punching the air. A passing couple gave him a wide berth. He barely noticed. He typed back, "YES! Definitely in! See you then!"

He floated home, the world a brighter, more vibrant place. His 'Rustbucket' even started on the first try, a rare occurrence. He found a prime parking spot right outside his dorm – no "wishing" needed, just a casual thought that felt like a gentle push. The hum was so ingrained now, so natural, that he barely registered the subtle push and pull of probability bending to his will.

His streak continued. The Microeconomics quiz? Professor Davies handed them back on Friday. Nicolás had earned a B+, his highest grade in that class all semester. Not suspicious, but perfectly respectable.

"Not bad, Ferrer," Davies had grumbled, adjusting his glasses. "For you."

Nicolás just grinned. "Thanks, Professor!" He felt like he'd just won an Oscar.

"You're actually getting good at this," Leo said that Thursday evening, dealing cards for their study group-turned-poker night in the student lounge. Sarah and Putri were already immersed in their Microeconomics textbooks, though Putri occasionally glanced up with a smile.

"No, I think you're just getting better at studying," Sarah commented, not looking up. "Or Davies finally taught something understandable."

Putri chuckled. "Honestly, I think Nicolás just figured out his learning style. He's been really helpful with the demand elasticity stuff."

Nicolás felt a flush of pride. "Well, I guess I'm just on a good run, you know?" He winked at Leo, who just shook his head.

"A 'good run' is an understatement," Leo muttered, then looked at his cards and sighed dramatically. "Man, I've had the worst luck all week. My laptop crashed right before I submitted my CS project. Had to use the public labs, and I still missed the deadline by two minutes."

"Oh, that sucks, Leo!" Putri said, looking up, genuinely sympathetic. "Is your data recoverable?"

"Nope. Hard drive's fried," Leo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's fine, I'll just take the late penalty. Just typical for my life lately."

Nicolás, meanwhile, was admiring his hand: a full house. Nice! "Yeah, that's rough, buddy," he said, trying to sound commiserative. "But hey, things always turn around, right?"

He pushed in a stack of chips, feeling the hum vibrate playfully. Maybe I just needed a bit of Leo's bad luck to fuel my good luck? No, no, that's dark. It's just coincidence. Different things happening to different people.

The next day, as Nicolás strolled through campus, a glint caught his eye near the student union. He leaned down, a familiar jolt going through him. A lottery ticket. Scratched. But the final number was still covered. He felt the pull, stronger than usual, urging him to scratch it.

Probably a dud, he thought, but hey, worth a shot.

He pulled out a coin, his heart thrumming, and scratched. Three matching symbols. A $50 win.

"No way!" he yelped, startling a flock of pigeons into chaotic flight. He laughed, a loud, joyous sound. "Fifty bucks! Just like that!"

His eyes darted around, looking for any sign of the previous owner. But the area was deserted, save for the pigeons. He pocketed the ticket, a surge of exhilarating power flooding him. This was amazing. This was his life now.

Later that week, while meeting Sarah for coffee, she looked distraught.

"Nicolás, you are not going to believe what happened," she said, stirring her latte aggressively. "I lost my wallet."

Nicolás blinked. "Oh, no! Seriously? Again?" He remembered finding one himself. Wait, wasn't that like, the first thing?

"Yeah! Seriously again!" she threw her hands up. "I swear I had it when I left the dorm, but it's just gone. Poof! All my ID, my credit cards, everything. I'm going to have to cancel everything. What a nightmare."

"That really sucks, Sarah," Nicolás said, shaking his head. He felt a fleeting thought: Was that because I found that other wallet? No, that's crazy. People lose wallets all the time. It's not connected. "Did you check Lost and Found?"

"First place I went," she groaned. "Nothing. This is just my luck lately. Everything's going wrong. I tripped in the library, spilled coffee on my art history notes this morning, and now this. I feel like the universe is actively working against me."

Nicolás chuckled, remembering his own previous laments. "I know the feeling. Been there. But hey, chin up! It'll turn up. Maybe someone will find it and return it." He flashed a reassuring smile, not bothering to feel the hum. He wasn't wishing for her wallet to turn up, after all. He was too busy enjoying his own cosmic winning streak.

He started noticing other small things, tiny ripples in the fabric of campus life that always seemed to benefit him, while others suffered. A line at the campus coffee shop would magically shorten just as he approached, only for the machine to break down right after he ordered, leaving everyone behind him waiting. He'd get the last slice of pizza in the cafeteria, and then the oven would malfunction. He found an impossible parking spot, only to see someone else get a ticket for illegal parking nearby. He just shrugged it off, attributing it to his newfound amazing luck. Guess someone's gotta have it, right?

One afternoon, he walked past the local street performer, a lanky guy with a beat-up guitar who usually drew a decent crowd. Today, the performer was struggling. His guitar string snapped mid-song, a gust of wind blew his sheet music away, and then a stray dog ran off with his tip jar.

"Man, tough crowd today, huh?" Nicolás called out, tossing a dollar into a makeshift hat. The hum within him was a quiet, satisfied purr. My lucky day, your unlucky day. Circle of life, buddy.

The performer just grumbled, picking up his scattered coins.

His confidence grew with each successful manifestation. He could subtly guide conversations, ensure he was always prepared for unexpected questions in class, and even influenced minor sports outcomes when watching games with friends. The 'action sequence' adrenaline was still there, but it was less panic, more practiced focus. He was becoming a master of his domain.

Then came the night of his first real date with Putri. Not a study session, not a casual bump-in, but an actual, planned, "just us" date. He'd asked her out, surprising himself as much as her. To his shock, she'd said yes.

They decided to keep it simple: pizza at a local place, then a walk through the campus botanical gardens, which were lit up at night. Nicolás was a bundle of nerves and exhilarating anticipation. He'd even worn a clean shirt he'd bought specifically for the occasion, not 'willed' into existence.

"This is really nice, Nicolás," Putri said, smiling up at him as they walked hand-in-hand through the softly lit gardens. The night air was cool, carrying the scent of night-blooming jasmine. "I love how peaceful it is here after dark."

"Yeah," he agreed, his voice a little hoarse. He cleared his throat. "It's, uh, it's one of my favorite spots. Especially when the stars are out." He paused, a dangerous thought sparking in his mind. This is perfect. But it could be more perfect. The ultimate date moment.

He felt the hum, a vibrant, powerful surge. He focused it, narrowing his intent. A shooting star. Right now. Just for us. And our song. That song. He wasn't sure what "our song" was yet, but he needed a beautiful, romantic tune to drift from somewhere.

Putri squeezed his hand. "Oh, look! There's Orion! I love looking at constellations."

Nicolás glanced up, then closed his eyes for a split second, pushing. Shooting star. Now.

He opened his eyes just as a brilliant streak of light blazed across the inky sky, momentarily outshining the stars, before vanishing.

"Oh my god!" Putri gasped, pulling him to a stop, her eyes wide with wonder. "Did you see that?! A shooting star! Wow! That was so bright!"

Nicolás felt a dizzying wave of euphoria. He had done that. He had manifested a cosmic event. "Yeah," he breathed, his voice filled with genuine awe and a touch of triumphant megalomania. "I saw it. Incredible, right?"

Just then, from the direction of the student union, a faint, melancholic acoustic guitar melody drifted towards them. It was a perfect, understated love song he'd heard on the radio, but never really paid attention to until now.

Putri tilted her head. "Oh, I love this song! What is it?"

"I… I have no idea," Nicolás admitted, a genuinely surprised smile on his face. He hadn't expected it to work so perfectly. The hum was a roaring crescendo, making his blood sing. He felt invincible. He felt like a god.

He pulled her closer, his arm going around her waist. She leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder as they watched the stars and listened to the distant music. It was, without a doubt, the most perfect moment of his life. He felt an almost unbearable surge of warmth and belonging. This was what the power was for. To make moments like this. To make his life extraordinary.

He felt like the luckiest person alive.

As the last, sweet notes of the unknown love song faded into the night, a distant, urgent wail began, growing louder, cutting through the campus quiet. An ambulance siren, screaming past the edge of campus, heading somewhere, to some unseen emergency. Neither Nicolás nor Putri heard it. They were too engrossed in the magic of their shared, perfect moment, lost in

the soft glow of the garden lights and the lingering wonder of a star that had fallen just for them.