If everyone is given the same amount of "luck" when they're born, they can choose when and how to spend it, but there is only a finite amount. They can choose to win the genetic lottery, discover a new breakthrough, win the lottery. How would you spend it?

I held onto my luck as a child. After all, I'd need it later, wouldn't I? I remember hearing about my friends spending theirs. My aunt and uncle told me I'd need mine later.

I asked them why I was with them and where my parents were, when I was about eight. They flinched and told me my mom and dad had asked them to take care of me for a while.

In high school, my best friend got the last spot on the tennis team instead of me. I had a string break during tryouts trying to return his serve. I told myself I was saving my luck for later. I spent that year working on my game, learning, getting better. Practicing again and again and again. Sure enough, the next year I made the team and no amount of luck was going to displace me as the best player. I asked my aunt and uncle why I needed to save my luck. Sure, working hard and getting to be the best was great, but it was hard work and I only could live for so long. They said that my parents wanted me to have it later. I didn't push it after that.

I didn't burn luck in high school. What was the point anyway? Learn things and know them forever, burn luck on guessing right on a test and you don't get anything except the grade. So I studied and studied and learned. I wasn't valedictorian or anything like that; that was a luck-reserved position. I did well enough, though. Got me into the school I wanted.

My first semester in college, there was a class. "Luck Studies". It was a mandatory freshman class, one of those "prepare you for actual life" things. You walked through a scanning machine. On the display would read a percentage of luck you had spent and how much luck you had remaining. There was a decent scatter in our class; some people had most of theirs left and had spent very little, some had very little left but they had great stories about spending their luck.

I walked through the machine and the graduate assistant running the class said I got an error message. He cleared it out and asked me to walk through again.

Again, the error message.

The grad assistant called up the professor and then handed the phone to me. "Meet me in my office after class. There's something you need to know." I don't remember the rest of class. I was freaking out over what it could be the professor wanted. I went to the office with trepidation. What could be so unusual about my luck?

When I got into the office, the professor motioned to a chair. "Have a seat." He launched into an explanation I couldn't quite understand. "Sir? Could you explain that at a freshman level?" I asked, trying to not get in trouble.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, pinched his nose between thumb and finger. "You carry with you both more luck and less luck than should be possible. Luck was spent on you which did not belong to you, and that will remain with you always." He debated something in his head, decided. "However, you have no luck that can be applied at your will. You haven't had any conscious luck for a long time."

What was the problem? Why didn't I have any luck left? The thoughts raced through my head. "I took the liberty of Googling your name while you were on your way over."

He handed me the printed article.

"Miracle survivor of flight 1066 in critical condition."