"My money's on three," said Bobo.
"Eight for me," said Callan.
"Six," said Rex. Every few weeks, Rex and other Providence agents would make bets on different games or races. Completely unknown to White or Six. Well at least White. No one knew what Six really did know.
"Might as well pay up Rex," said Bobo mischievously.
"Yeah. You chose the slowest horse. There is no way you'll win."
"I will win," he said cockily.
Soon the race began. Rex's horse was dead last. Everyone else had one up front. Rex kept his eyes on his choice. Six. Soon Six caught up with the others. Everyone was laughing that He wouldn't win. But moments later, Six was the winner.
"How the…!" yelled Bobo.
"You've got to be kidding me!"
"Pay up," smirked Rex. Soon he had five hundred dollars in his hand. Still smiling he left. Whenever Six was involved he never lost. He trusted Six with his life. Because Six was his lucky number. No other number played such a positive role in his life. Six was his teacher. Him and Holiday. Six was his partner. Him and Bobo. Six was (though he'd never say it to him) his family. Him and César.
But it was more than that. Six was the reason he was alive. The reason that he wasn't a criminal. The reason humanity had a cure. Six was a hero. Rex smiled. The money was a nice perk. But as long as Six was involved in anything, it would win. Period.
Even when he met One, Six was victorious. Six was one in Rex's eyes. Even passing him in the hall was something to lift his spirit.
He sprinted past Six and Holiday to his room.
"What do you think he was doing?" asked Holiday.
"Horse-playing with Bobo and Callan."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Some things you just know."
Short as hell I know. Not good either. But this hit me in the middle of the night. If any of you can make a lucky number story for Rex I'd love to read it. It would be way better than this. Review!