Some people have all the luck. Brendan Notch is not one of those people.
This isn't to say that Brendan is unlucky, necessarily; he just doesn't stumble across lost $10 bills on the ground (like his brother) or catch the bus at the last possible second every single day (like his sister) or even get an extra Chicken McNugget from the McDonald's on Craver Street (like seemingly everyone else in town). None of these random acts of luck have ever happened to Brendan.
"Hey, at least you don't have bad luck," his brother, Chad, jokes at least once a week. "You could be stepping in puddles on a daily basis or something."
The lack of luck never really bothered Brendan, though. His brother had a point - no luck was better than bad luck - but Brendan didn't get caught up with the idea of luck the way everyone else did. He wasn't even sure he believed in luck, truth be told. He prefered to put his faith in things he could see, or at least feel.
It wasn't until one particularly windy day in April that Brendan started to feel that maybe, just maybe, luck really was something he should believe in.
The wind was all anyone could talk about that day. Despite it's proximity to Chicago, Evanstan wasn't usually as windy as one might assume. So when the town woke up to 95 MPH wind on an otherwise normal Wednesday morning, Facebook statuses, Tweets, and texts started circulating, referencing the out of the ordinary speeds.