She turned to the girl next to her and shook her arm. Her friend had her back turned, talking to her neighbor, and in the dimmed lighting I couldn’t see who she was right away. Then she turned around.
We locked eyes immediately.
Sarah.
I stared. My heart did some weird double-time beat at the sight of her.
“All right, gentlemen, five minutes until showtime. Final checks! Be sure you know your number and remember to wait in the wings until your number is called.” Ms. Karon, head of Civic Organizations for the school and the organizer of the event, called out last-minute instructions. “When you hear your number, you’ll walk out on the runway from stage left. We’ll read your information, and bidding will commence. Once bidding has closed, please exit via stage right.”
“I hope the ladies brought their checkbooks. They’ll need them to afford me, ’cause I am all kinds of fine,” yelled Devon, one of the co-captains of the basketball team.
“Yeah, right. You hope someone is dumb enough to bid on you. Maybe yo mama,” called Scott, the other co-captain.
Everyone laughed.
“Boys, as I was saying, you’ll exit via stage right. Once the bidding is complete, when instructed, you will all meet your winning bidder at the back of the room to coordinate when and where you will have your date. Remember, the date will be at the bidder’s choosing.”
Whistles and catcalls sounded.
Ms. Karon smiled and sighed. “At the winner’s choosing within reason,” she stressed, “since they won. The date is expected to be held within one week. Don’t worry, the bidders are given all the terms and conditions before they bid, so they’re all aware.”
The twenty-some guys around me elbowed one another and smiled and laughed and all seemed to be enjoying themselves. I grinned and adjusted the lapel on the suit jacket I’d worn over my T-shirt along with my dark jeans. If I was going to do this, I was going to do this.
“Chance, you’re up next.”
Rounds of cheers and applause broke out so loud that it drowned out Ms. Karon’s voice. “Now I know you’re all excited, so I’m not going to keep you waiting any longer. Let’s hear it for number twenty-five, Chance DuPont!”
I shoved the hair out of my eyes, took a deep breath, and walked onto the stage.
It was a lot darker than I’d expected it to be, but I could make out Ms. Karon standing behind a wooden podium about twenty feet away. She motioned for me to come farther out on the stage. We’d gone over what to do a couple of hours earlier, and it’d all flown out of my head the minute I’d walked out. I was pretty sure we were supposed to walk to the center, then out onto the makeshift catwalk area they’d rigged up after that.
“Here goes nothing,” I muttered under my breath. I walked to what I assumed was about the center of the stage, hands in the pockets of my jeans, and turned to face the crowd. A spotlight came out of nowhere and blinded me. Speakers burst to life, pounding out some new, slightly updated version of “It’s Raining Men.” The crowd went wild.
I faltered. What was I supposed to do now?
I glanced over to the podium again. Ms. Karon was waving her hand like mad toward the catwalk area of the stage. “Go!” she stage-whispered. The crowd was still going nuts from the song, even without me doing a thing. “Get out there. Play it up! Have fun with it.” She winked.
I grinned and nodded, then walked where she’d directed me, slow at first. The crowd went insane. Their response gave me some confidence, so my next few steps were more sure, my shoulders straighter. As I got closer to the middle of the makeshift aisle, I could see the people seated at the tables closest to the stage.
Almost all were students, but I spied a few teachers, too, probably supporting the cause by paying the cover charge and buying the bake sale items being sold at the back of the room.
Ms. Karon read my information while the song continued to play, the volume a bit lower now. I walked to the edge of the catwalk, held my suit jacket closed tight, then turned and quickly ripped the jacket open—flasher-style. I looked down, and five feet away, straight in the line of my just-flashed-open-jacket, sat Sarah, eyes wide.
Well, damn.
Pretty sure I wasn’t getting her bid.
Chapter Nine
Sarah
We were victims of the night a chemical, physical, kryptonite ~ Walk the Moon
The familiar song faded into nothing the moment Chance turned and his eyes captured mine. For a second I couldn’t catch air in my lungs, until sanity returned. I turned away and grabbed my water glass, needing something cold to hold on to. Maybe it would counteract the heat in my body. I swore I could feel his eyes on me several more long seconds, but I didn’t dare look up to check.
Out of my peripheral vision, I caught Emma eyeing me curiously.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“What? Nothing. It’s just kind of hot in here, isn’t it? Too many people.” I tugged at the collar of my sweater.
She glanced at the stage and smirked. “It sure is.”
“Funny. Not what I meant.” I rolled my eyes. “Anyway…Megan.” I turned to my other friend. “This is your last chance—he’s the last guy up for bid.” I motioned to the stage, a doubtful expression crossing my face. “Although I’m not too sure you’re going to get your money’s worth with that one.”
She eyeballed me. “Really? Why is that?”
“Yeah, why not?” Emma echoed.
A secret part of me wondered if I just didn’t want Megan to go on a date with Chance. “Well, I don’t know. You can date whoever you want. I’m just saying I’d never go out with him.”
Apparently a large number of the females in the room disagreed with me. Bidding had begun, and already a fierce war raged.
“You may have a fight on your hands, Megs,” Laney said.
She looked worried. “Do you think?”
Emma glanced around the room. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” But she didn’t sound convinced.
I sat back and watched as Chance walked around the stage while the girls in the audience bid on the opportunity to go on a date with him. He smiled and seemed perfectly comfortable being the center of attention. Of course.
“One hundred and twenty-five dollars.” Megan waved her number in the air, officially throwing her card in the ring.
Something in my stomach felt a little sick as she bid on him.
Chance glanced in our direction when she bid, then quickly looked away, jaw tight, when he saw Megs flashing her bid card.
The bidding continued to climb. Shouts came from all over the room, fueled by wanting to support a good cause, desperation to win the final date of the evening, and the mania that overtakes you once you start a bidding war. Ask anyone who has ever bid on eBay—you start bidding, planning to spend no more than twenty bucks for some crappy old poster you aren’t sure if you really want anyway, and end up thinking you got it for a steal for fifty-nine and change. It must be some subconscious need to win.
“Two hundred and ten dollars,” Megan yelled, her eyes shining like when a person had a fever.
“Are you insane?” I whispered.
When the bidding hit two hundred and fifty dollars, Megan shook her head. “I didn’t think it would go this high.”
“Neither did I,” Emma said. Her face looked as shocked as I felt about the whole thing.
“Well, what do I do?”
I shook my head, saying nothing.
The bidding just continued on around us. I heard someone yell, “Three hundred dollars!” Up on the stage, even Chance looked dumbfounded.
“Well, there’s no way I can outbid that,” Megan said, throwing her money on the table in defeat.
Principal Berger walked up next to Ms. Karon at the podium. “One moment please,” he said to the crowd. Ms. Karon covered the microphone with her hand while he leaned in and whispered to her for several minutes.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Emma asked.
<
br /> “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe sanity is prevailing and they’re calling it off.”
“I hope not,” Megan said.
The room was buzzing, everyone wondering what might be going on. I peeked up at Chance. He stood, one hand on his hip, knee bent and jutted out, the other leg extended. He used his other hand to shove through his hair, messing it up. Suddenly he looked nervous.
Ms. Karon peeked over at Principal Berger and said something back. He nodded. This went on, back and forth, a few more times while they leafed through some papers. Finally, after another several minutes, they both appeared satisfied. They smiled first at each other, then at Chance. Ms. Karon uncovered the microphone and leaned in toward it. “Chance, may we see you over here a moment, please?”
What in the world?
Now everyone in the room was in a frenzy trying to figure out what was going on. Was Chance secretly not even officially attending our school? Had he escaped from prison? Was he a secret agent? Was he an alien? I heard so many possibilities floating around just my own immediate seating area that I became convinced my school was a mecca for future fantasy writers.
The three of them huddled together, talking. Principal Berger and Ms. Karon looked excited. Chance, not so much. Ms. Karon nodded in a way that was clear to see, even from thirty feet away, was meant to be encouraging. I watched a few more seconds, all the while trying not to be caught watching.
Chance ran his hand through his hair and shifted his weight back and forth. His body language made it obvious that whatever it was they were talking about didn’t thrill him in the least. I couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him.
“What do you think it is?” Emma asked again.
“I dunno. But whatever it is, I get the feeling it’s nothing good.”
Megan, Emma, and Laney all nodded in silent agreement.
Just then, Chance gave a curt nod and looked at his shoes before heading back to his place onstage. The crowd applauded once again.
Ms. Karon stepped aside, and Principal Berger stood in front of the podium where she’d just been. He leaned in, his navy tie folding against the slanted lectern top in the process. “Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the interruption and we appreciate your patience. We do have an announcement to make.”
The chatter in the room dulled as Principal Berger spoke, everyone curious to hear what was important enough to interrupt bidding on the final auction of the night—especially when it had hit record highs.
“Due to the overwhelming interest shown in our final bachelor this evening, we verified in the auction rules, and found nothing that would prevent us from changing the auction item before bidding is complete.”
The chatter in the room rose again, higher than before.
“Please, please, if you would just give me a moment to explain, I’m sure you’ll be more than satisfied.” Principal Berger raised his hands to try to get everyone’s attention. It didn’t work. Everyone was talking. Some girls were clearly ticked off at the thought of losing their chance to win the final date of the night.
Chance walked over to the podium, grabbed the mic out of the stand, and walked back to the center of the stage.
“Hey, girls.” Then he grinned this completely heart-stopping grin.
The room went silent. That old saying of you could hear a pin drop? Totally true. Until I swore I heard someone sigh, or swoon. I looked around the room. Every eye was on Chance up on the stage.
“So here’s the deal,” Chance went on. “You aren’t bidding on a date with me anymore.”
Everyone started to protest again.
Chance held up his hand, stopping them. “The thing is, now you’re bidding on six weeks of dates with me.”
And then “It’s Raining Men” started playing again, and the room went nuts.
Chapter Ten
Chance
Listen, red light, yellow light, green-a-light go
Crazy little woman in a one-man show ~ Def Leppard
Principal Berger explained the new auction terms—how we would go on up to two dates a week for six weeks as both of our schedules allowed. He also said that since the bidding had risen to three hundred dollars for one date, with the new terms, it would now instead be held as a raffle. Anyone who still wanted to be entered to win could pay the three hundred dollars and they would have their number entered. The winning number would be drawn from all eligible entries. I guess they figured they could raise more this way rather than just letting the bidding continue. Even in a bidding war, high schoolers were still bound to have a spending cap.
“Now remember, everyone, this isn’t just for dates with this handsome young man here,” Principal Berger said, motioning in my direction.
Awkward.
“That’s just an added bonus. What you’re really doing is donating to a very worthwhile cause for the kids at St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital. You have just a few minutes left to fill out an entry form at the front of the room to enter the raffle. We will be drawing the number of the lucky winner at eight o’clock sharp.”
It felt weird to be just sitting in the middle of the stage like a human prize on the tall stool Ms. Karon had one of the sound tech guys bring out for me.
What did I just agree to? One date I could do. Six weeks’ worth of dates? That could feasibly be called a relationship.
But they’d both just been standing there looking at me, so hopeful and excited, explaining about all the money the raffle could raise. The image of my little brother, Alex, lying in a hospital bed looking so small and pale flashed through my head while they were speaking. There was no way I could have refused in that moment, my stomach tied in knots and memories washing over me. Before I could think, I’d heard myself say okay.
I felt like I might pass out. But I couldn’t because I was sitting on a three-foot tall stool in front of a hundred people, a quarter of whom seemed to be insane enough to be willing to spend three hundred dollars to be in a paid six-week relationship with me.
“Last call to enter to win the raffle! It’s almost time for the drawing!”
Great. Can’t wait.
I offered a fake smile that was all for show, along with a thumbs-up. It wasn’t the finger I wanted to give.
I didn’t even bother looking to see who was rushing back and forth to the raffle table. It seemed as though the novelty of six weeks’ worth of dates for the winner had been a call to action for a bunch of people. It still astounded me that anyone was entering at all.
A couple of minutes later, the lights flashed again.
“If everyone could take their seats, it’s time for the drawing. I know you’re all anxiously waiting to hear the winner.”
Students weaved through tables to find their seat. Sounds of chairs being pulled out carried my way. Chatter and excited laughter filled the room.
Principal Berger carried a glass bowl filled about a quarter of the way with folded slips of paper. Ms. Karon walked behind him.
“Chance, if you could join us?” she asked, motioning to the space next to her.
I stood up, my legs feeling like rubber.
“We thought it might be fitting for you to select your date.” Ms. Karon smiled.
Oh, because that would make it so romantic, pulling her name from a fishbowl.
I nodded. “Sure, I’d be happy to.” I reached in the bowl and made a big show of swishing my hand around a few times. Please let me pick someone good. Or at least someone I can stand to be around for six weeks, I amended. I swished once or twice more for good measure before selecting a piece of paper. I withdrew it and handed the folded slip to Ms. Karon.
She opened the paper, leaned into the microphone, and read, “And the winner of this year’s Dates with Heart Auction Raffle for six weeks of dates with Chance DuPont is…”
I held my breath.
“Sarah Campbell! Congratulations, Sarah!”
Wait, what? Sarah bid on me? I jerked my head over to her table, sure I had to be he
aring things.
The expression on her face assured me she was just as shocked to hear her name being called as I was. And more than that, she looked downright pissed.
“Sarah, why don’t you come on up here for a photo?” Ms. Karon beamed.
Sarah looked ready to chew nails. Her head swiveled back and forth so fast as she whispered to her two friends that I half-expected it to pop right off any second.
“Sarah? Where are you?” Ms. Karon looked around the room, probably wondering why the person who’d just forked over three hundred bucks wasn’t cartwheeling her way up to the stage to claim her prize.
I noticed Emma gave Sarah a small push to get her out of the seat, but Sarah wasn’t budging. I tried not to be insulted at how much she clearly didn’t want to spend any extra time with me—even to benefit charity. It could have been ego or just really wanting the chance to get to know her a little better, but the next thing I knew, the evil side of me took over. I walked to the edge of the stage. “There she is!” I pointed straight at her, giving her a wicked grin. She glared at me.
I hopped off the edge of the stage and walked over to her. I bent down until I was a breath away from her ear and whispered, “Listen, you may not like me, and right now I don’t really give a damn. But all of these people worked way too hard for you to ruin this for them. So you’re going to get up out of that chair, stand up, walk on that stage, and stand next to me. And you’re going to smile the entire time you’re doing it, or so help me god I’ll pick you up and carry you there myself.” I stared her in the eyes so she knew I meant it. “Got it?”
She gritted her teeth. “Got it.”
I backed up to give her room to stand. Emma glanced at me and gave a small nod as she tried not to smile. It was clear she’d overheard every word I’d said.
The Boyfriend Bid (The Girlfriend Request) Page 5