Lucky Break by J. Minter Page A

were almost always surprised when they found out Feb and I were sisters. We couldn’t look—or act—more unalike.
    He glanced down at a scrap of paper, then held it out for me to see my sister’s handwriting:
    HOT BLONDE, PROBABLY DRESSED IN ALL BLACK, WILL BE BITING HER LIP AND CROSSING HER ARMS BY THE TIME YOU FIND HER.
    â€œOh,” I said, looking down at my Twenty8Twelve black turtleneck and black Marc Jacobs jeans. I quickly uncrossed my arms and made a mental note to stop biting my lip in the future.
    â€œShe also wrote out a description of your luggage,” Benjy said. “I hope you don’t mind—I saw it comearound the conveyor, so I grabbed it.” He pointed at the ground, and there was my burgundy Brix duffel. Relief washed over me. I decided to forgive Feb just a little bit for sending such a helpful guide in her place.
    A train, rickshaw, and canoe ride later, I was even gladder to have Benjy around. From the window of the train, he pointed out the clustered buildings making up downtown, and even gave a few good recommendations for dance clubs along the way. Sitting next to me on the rickshaw, as we got farther away from the hectic inner city, he gave me the history of the rice marshes where he and Feb and Kelly were all working. As we climbed into the canoe and he rowed us through the misty water of the Chao Phraya River, he explained how the terrain had changed during the monsoon seasons the past few years. As we floated past the bamboo reeds, the scenery was phenomenal and unlike anything I’d ever seen before, but I was starting to wonder if I’d ever reach my sister.
    â€œThere you are—finally!” a familiar voice called from the bank of the river. Feb was standing on a short wooden dock, waving both her arms over her head. She was wearing a simple black smock and baggy jeans, and her hair was cropped super short. Last month’s red dye was already growing out, so half her hair was her natural dark brown, but the tips werea muted red color. My sister looked nothing like the Feb I’d had lunch with last week, but it was still so good to see her.
    â€œSo,” I said, after we’d hugged and I had a chance to finally take in the thatched roof hut behind her. “This is the most unusual Four Seasons I’ve ever seen.”
    Feb looked confused, then flung her hand dismissively in the air. “That’s a little white lie so Mom doesn’t totally freak about the Peace Corps thing. You know, Flan, you can’t
always
tell her the truth.”
    But when she saw the surprised look on my face, she quickly added, “Forget I said that, bad advice. Anyway, you’re here now and that’s what matters.” She put her arm around my shoulder and led me to the bungalow.
    â€œIt’s a little rustic, but it’s off the grid, and it’s really close to our work quarters, so …” She trailed off, pulling back a beaded curtain to expose a small bedroom. Inside was a large window facing the river, and no furniture other than simple pallet on the floor and a mosquito net hanging from the ceiling.
    â€œOh God, you’re stunned silent,” Feb said, sounding nervous. “This must be quite a shock after the villa treatment you probably got in Sorrento. Do you hate it?”
    â€œAre you kidding?” I said. “This might be coolest place I’ve ever stayed.”
    â€œSee, I told you Flan could handle it,” Kelly said, coming up behind Feb to give me a hug. He was also dressed in a simple smock and casual jeans. He’d carried in my duffel bag and set it down on the floor.
    â€œYou are aware that your mom told us to put you right to work, aren’t you?” he said, with a sly smirk on his face.
    â€œKelly’s kidding, Flan.” Feb sighed, exasperated. “We’re not going to put you to work—are you crazy? We want you to enjoy yourself here.”
    â€œBut Mom said I