A crime-mystery lover Rhett Carver only wants two things in his life: first, to be taken seriously as a young detective, and second, to get rid of his never-ending bad luck that always gets in the way of reaching the first thing. Those goals bring h...
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Rhett A few weeks earlier
The most important thing about life was that you couldn't possibly have Goddess of Luck hating you ever since you were born.
Have you ever felt so unlucky that you were afraid to get out of your house for even one step? No, of course you have not. Even if you have, your luck still wasn't as bad as mine. The Goddess that I knew as Fortuna probably had shot her bad luck arrow at me when I was still in my Mom's womb.
Arrow? Wait, that was Cupid. Did Fortuna even have an arrow?
Anyway, you got my point. She hated me that much, that I had to spend the rest of my life wondering what ridiculous thing could kill me today. There was this one day in my freshman year when I even got taken to the campus clinic just because I stepped on a dog poop.
I hated to be reminded of this stupid incident, but for the sake of explaining what I was doing behind a stinky trash can today, I had to tell you.
It was an early morning before summer break. I had to give the last piece of my final project to my professor on time. I stayed up late doing a CSI marathon and my alarm didn't go off because the battery died, apparently 2 minutes before it supposed to ring. After putting my drawings into black drafting tube, I ran to the class from my dorm in a hurry. But, obviously, it wasn't as smooth as I thought it would be. I slipped down the stairs just 3 steps over, and then bumped a bunch of people. One of them even shouted, "Really, Rhett? Every morning?!"
Yes. Every. Single. Morning.
Because of that, my roommate, Noel, marked his own territory in our room. He was afraid that I would mess his stuffs up that he had me to sign some kind of a roommate contract. It did sound silly, but that was what you got if you had to share a room with a perfectionist, pre-med student.
The architecture building came to the view. Of all the buildings in Bensworth University, this one stood out because of its contemporary and minimalist style, painted with only white and a bit of black. I was wondering if after I graduated, I could make one like this, be an architect whose works could be recognized internationally. Or maybe, I could just leave all architecture things and become a CSI kind of guy.
Or a police officer. Or an FBI agent. Or a detec—
And that was how I stepped on a poop.
That wasn't even the best part. The furry little creature did its business on a grass. Didn't dogs take their dumps on a sandy area? I meant, cats did that all the time... Except Earl, my sister's cat who once peed on my blanket. Better yet, I realized that the next day after I curled myself under it.
Second, everyone could and would pretend that the huge 'don't step on a grass' sign didn't exist. But when I was about to do it, there was a freaking poop on the grass. All I wanted was to take a shortcut to the building because I couldn't waste a minute to go around the small garden. It wasn't like I could be arrested for ignoring the sign.
