by Samolu Pearl
"You just wish you could be up there being fussed about," Emma says, smiling up at him.
Ryan and I laugh. "Maybe. But having you be a part of this is all the fussing I need." He leans down and rubs his nose against hers—an Eskimo kiss.
"Awww" I coo, and Ryan and Emma smack an arm. "Ow!"
"Darren did almost all of this for you, you know," Emma says. I nod and she smiles. "You better treat that boy like he deserves to be treated after this kind of dedication."
"I'll do my best," I grin.
"You better," a voice says next to us. We turn to find Jessica Teigan behind us. "He's a good guy and I'm glad he's found somebody who's actually pretty decent, rather than the other girls that have followed him around for so long."
"Thank you," I say honestly.
"Just treat him right," She says, smiling. "He really does deserve it."
"Yeah, he does," I agree.
The sound of the gavel on the podium catches the room's attention and turns them to Darren on the podium. "We're about to start up the second half of the auction! Just three more handsome young men and a surprise specimen to go! And we have to be finished before midnight so that all our lovely winners get their New Years Kiss, and I get mine," he says, making the crowd laugh and me flush with embarrassment, "so let's get this thing started again!"
The crowd cheers and gathers at the stage again. "Our first man up after intermission is Jacob Zidichowski, a senior at Oak Ridge and a fine basketball player who loves joking around and making people laugh," Darren says as Jake struts his stuff on the stage. He's wearing a nice outfit—slacks and a button down shirt, and his good looks earn him some whistles form the girls.
The bidding started at fifty dollars again, but the number very quickly rose to one hundred, as Carrie is shouting out numbers as fast as she can. The race slows down at around one hundred and twenty dollars, but Jake manages to speed it up again by unbuttoning his shirt and revealing his muscular chest. The crowd of girls—and several guys, again—cheer ecstatically and several groups pool together again.
The race is close and Jake is dancing on the stage with his shirt, earning him whistles and catcalls, when Carrie finally wins the bidding at two hundred and fifty eight dollars.
I can't believe people are spending so much money!
Jake jumps off the stage and walks—very suggestively—to Carrie. The crowd keeps watching, as Jake is still the show, as he places a hand gently cupping the side of her face. He leans in and she wraps her arms around his waist, going up on her tip toes to kiss him when he pulls back. "Not until midnight," he grins wickedly and she smacks him softly with her hand.
"Jerk," she says, and the crowd laughs.
"That's how it goes folks, no kisses from our men until midnight! That's what you're paying for after all!" Darren says.
"Next up we have a resident of this amazing house—" The cheering already starts and Darren laughs, waiting for it to die down. I walk towards the stage to stand near the podium so I can watch him better. "Tyler Milovich is a senior at Oak Ridge High also on the basketball team and holds a great love of throwing parties, as you can see here, he is also a great host along with his parents, the incredible Mr. and Mrs. Milovich." He begins clapping and the crowd follows, turning to applaud the couple at the back of the room. When everyone looks back to the stage, Tyler is already there, looking shy and at the same time confident as he walks with his hands in the back pockets of his jeans.
"The bidding starts at fifty dollars," Darren says as the yells erupt. At first, it's hard to understand and realize who is bidding what, but as the bids go on and more people drop out, it gets easier.
Tyler stands there, looking adorable, as the bidding comes to a stop very quickly and the last bidder standing is Avery, the girl Tyler had taken to the Winter's dance, looking very triumphant.
Tyler sold for three hundred and eighty four dollars. Wow.
"The bar just keeps rising folks! How much do you think our next young man, Patrick Martell is going to sell for?"
I shake my head as I watch Darren work the crowd, knowing what will make them cheer and what will make them laugh.
Patrick walks on stage and I turn my eyes to the crowd. Jessa is near the front and I can't help but notice a determined glint in her eyes. I scan through the faces and find Allison near the back of the room, watching Patrick on the stage smugly.
She won't do any of the work, but she'll get the prize—of course.
Again, the bidding started at fifty dollars, but before anyone can say anything, Jessa shouted out, "Two-hundred!"
Half the crowd looks at her, stunned for a moment, and the bidding continues. I can't tear my eyes from Jessa and Patrick, because Jessa keeps calling out numbers, the money rising and rising, but her eyes never leave his. Patrick looks confused, but he stares back at her, not even looking for Allison.
I know for a fact he would never let Allison get away with half the crap she does to Jessa if he knew about it.
The bidding keeps going and Darren is laughing by the time the bid is up to four hundred dollars. Only three or four girls are left bidding, and at four hundred and fifty dollars it seems as though none of the four will give up.
Jessa seems to have the same idea because she shouts out "Five hundred dollars!"
The crowd is quiet and Darren, grinning from ear to ear, says, "going once, going twice," and, with a large pause, "SOLD! For five hundred dollars to the lovely Jessa Blymiller!"
The crowd cheers and several people glance from Allison to Jessa to Patrick, they know of the trio's strange arrangements.
But Patrick walks up to Jessa and the two walk to the back table where Allison is waiting. Tyler and Avery are still there, so they wait by the table, Patrick laughing and blushing—most likely embarrassed at the idea that he just sold himself.
When the crowd sees nothing interesting going on with the trio, their eyes turn back to the stage expectantly, waiting.
It's time for the mystery man.
The lights around the stage begin flashing; giving the illusion they are moving and circling the stage clockwise. Several people clap at the display.
"Are you ready for your mystery man?" Darren asks in a low voice, looking at me while he says it. I laugh at his playful expression. "He has a little number planned for you, so we're going to give him the floor before the bidding begins. Enjoy." With that Darren pulls the podium off the stage and clears the microphone cord from the small platform as the lights turn off, leaving the basement completely dark, and music starts.
I'm Too Sexy fills the basement with it's low towns and the lights on the stage turn on, though more dim than before. A long figure in black is on the stage, his back turned to the audience. He is swaying with the music, drawing everyone's attention to his . . . very nice backside.
"This is going better than I thought," I start as Darren whispers in my ear. With how dark it is, I can't see him at all.
"How so?" I whisper back.
"I had no clue he could actually pull off the dancing. I thought it was just going to be funny, but he's good."
"Who is it?" I hiss. "I hate surprises."
I can imagine Darren's grin in the darkness. "You won't have to wait much longer."
The music comes to the basic verse, the part about doing a turn on the catwalk, and the figure turns around to be greeted by cheers and screams as he walks down the catwalk, using everything he's got.
"Oh, my God," I say. The lights are a little brighter now so I'm sure Darren can see my face because he laughs hysterically.
"I knew you'd like the surprise!" He yells over the crowds cheers.
I stare, open-mouthed, as Mason Eatchell dances, shaking his stuff, on the stage to sell his New Years Kiss all for my family.
"Oh, my God," I repeat. Darren laughs again as the cheers erupt even louder and my eyes grow wide. "Nuh-uh!" I say, because apparently nothing else can come out of my mouth when Mason Eatchell starts taking off clothes.
He seriously takes his shirt off and twirls it around his head, still dancing and moving his hips and his stomach and his chest in suggestive, but not too suggestive ways. He's staying within the boundaries for the age audience—at least the ones who don't really know what's going on . . .
Mason throws his shirt into the audience, grinning from ear to ear—a rare sight—as the song ends and he strikes a pose on stage.
The crowd cheers and I can already see money waving in the air. Darren pecks my cheek and is back up to the stage before I can even see him, the podium already in front of him.
"Let's hear it again for Mason Eatchell, everybody!" he says, clapping himself as everyone cheers once more. "I'm sure you're all eager to bid," more cheers, "but since I can see there are so very many of you willing to buy this handsome young thing, we're going to do a little bit of an elimination round."
"Here's how it's going to work. I'm going to call out an amount, and whoever is willing to go higher than that leave your hands up. We'll keep that up until we get to about ten people and then let the battle begin. Does that sound good to everybody?" Darren asks.
Hands shot into the air in response. "All right, then!" he laughs, "Sixty dollars," he started. He kept rising in increments of ten and I scanned the room, seeing who was bidding. It seemed as though everyone was, but someone caught my eye. Bethany had her hand raised.
I was slightly shocked and wondered if she was bidding to support my family or if she liked Mason in that way and wanted a New Years Kiss from him—though I hadn't heard anything from her about Mason, only some blushing over Dan and Sean.
The bid kept rising until Darren hit six hundred and fifty dollars with ten hands left in the air.
"Let's shout it out, Ladies," Darren says.
Bethany is the first to say anything, shouting out, "seven hundred."
A few gasps run through the crowd. This was becoming a lot of money. I stare at her in the crowd, her face determined and looking up at Mason. His eyes are trained on her as well, a confused look on his face.
Another voice from a person I didn't know well calls out seven hundred and twenty, but Bethany calls again with a voice almost signaling finality. "Seven hundred and fifty."
The two women stare at each other for a moment. "How much do you have, ma'am?" Darren calls to the other woman in the crowd.
"Seven hundred and sixty five to spend, Mr. Teigan," she says politely.
"And you, Bethany?"
"I have seven hundred and sixty eight dollars," she says, her eyes still on Mason. Since when was she so intense? The Bethany I was always around was always hyper and giggling.
"Going once," Darren pauses, "going twice . . . and our mystery man is sold for seven hundred and sixty eight dollars to Ms. Bethany Hutchinson!" Darren says, "Congratulations!"
My eyes are still on Mason and Bethany, so I see that as soon as Darren says "sold" Mason jumps off the stage and got to Bethany as quickly as he could and wrapped his arms around her in a hug—his shirt still off, mind you. Bethany wrapped her arms around him as well and buried her face into his neck. I can see Mason's lips moving, as though he's telling her something.
I swear the crowd almost "ahhs" in unison, but Darren calls their attention back to him. He seems as confused as I am about the situation, as are Dan, Sean, Ryan, Emma, John, and Aaron as I catch their eyes around the room, but he keeps the attention off the two of them.
"Now that our auction has come to an end, we're going to have the floor open for dancing and the bar is still open for soda and drinks. The adults, I believe are welcome to head upstairs for some more adult drinks as well as some poker, I believe. Enjoy the rest of the evening and thank you all for coming and supporting the Knight Family!"
One last great cheer rises from the crowd for Darren and several people clap my back. Carrie comes from nowhere out of the crowd, Jake, looking pleased as ever, comes behind her. Carrie wraps me in a huge hug and Jake wraps his arms around me from behind making a Duke sandwich.
I laugh. "Thanks guys."
"I hope you enjoyed the show," Jake says as the two let go and step back so I can see them.
"Of course I did!" I turn to Carrie, "I hope I didn't run you broke."
"Not at all! This was my Christmas money and I was more than happy to use it to help out," she says, looking up at Jake.
"I leant her a little bit to, just to help out with winning me and all. I wouldn't want our kiss stolen," Jake laughs.
"Nobody likes a stolen kiss," Darren says, coming from behind and wrapping his arms around my waist, his chin settling on my shoulder.
A loud crash from the corner turns everyone's eyes upon the three people standing there: Patrick, Allison, and Jessa. Patrick is standing in front of Jessa, almost protectively, and Allison looks furious next to a fallen tray of food.
Darren, Carrie, Jake, and I are close to them, so we can easily hear their conversation. I take a step closer, simply worried by their postures about what is happening.
"Allison, you're done," Patrick says, his tone is low and furious, but his face is still calm.
Allison stamps her foot and growls. "I am not!" she yells. "This isn't how this is supposed to work!"
"Allison, I've watched you do trivial things to Jessa for too long and I haven't spoken up about them even when they bothered me. And now I find out that you've been treating her even worse behind my back?" Patrick's voice started to rise in both volume and anger. "You aren't better than everyone, Allison. You don't have the authority to put yourself in a station above someone else. Don't you understand that?"
"But—" Allison muttered, her voice weak.
"No, Allison. I thought that the girl you were when it was just the two of us was who you really were, but apparently it was the other way around. I think its easier to tell a person's true colors when they're around other people than when you're alone with them."
"Patrick!" Allison calls as Patrick begins to turn to speak to Jessa who looks awed and terrified behind his protective body. "You can't just throw this all away!"
Patrick turns around to face her, and his eyes are filled with hatred. "You don't treat other people like personal slaves Allison. The second you asked her to tell you another person's secrets—people that had trusted her—and you threatened her . . ." he takes a deep breath and lets it out. I think he counts to ten before speaking again. "You can't use threats and violence to control people. You ruined us when you ruined their lives. This is your fault and yours alone." He turns completely from her and put his arms gently on Jessa's shoulders and whispers something to her.
She nods softly, her eyes still confused but trusting upon him. He begins to walk towards the stairs, ignoring the silent crowd whose eyes are all on them, and Jessa follows, her hand in his.
Whispers start spreading and evolve to full fledged gossip. My eyes are still on Allison, standing and looking bewildered, her eyes lingering on the stairs where Patrick disappeared. I can feel Darren's eyes on me, but I ignore them. I move forward from his embrace and towards Allison.
I see her falling before she does, and I catch her weight, though it brings us both to the ground with me kneeling, and her awkwardly in my arms. I can see the tears forming in her eyes, but they haven't fallen yet—she's in shock.
"Allison," I whisper. I had always hoped that she would get what she deserved and that I'd be there to see it, but not like this—not with everyone watching, seeing, talking, and gossiping. That wasn't fair.
Her eyes turn to me and she frowns, her brow contorting in pain. "Why now, why did he— why did he have to, why . . . why are you helping me?" she asks, lost.
"Because you need someone to put you on your feet and send you in another direction."
She gives me a confused look.
"You know we don't get along, Allison, and I feel like you deserve a lot of what you just got," she chokes a sob, "but you didn't deserve it in front of everyone. I'm only helping you to stand with some dignity and take what you'v
e received. Think you're up to it?"
She thinks for a moment and her face changes from pained to less pained and determined. "Help me stand," she whispers, so soft I almost can't here her. "Please."
I help her to her feet and Darren is on her other side with her purse. "Thank you," she says, again so soft I can barely hear her.
And with that, she walks up the stairs, everyone's eyes still on her as they whisper.
I turn towards the wall and shake my head. I feel Darren come up behind me and put an arm around my shoulder. "Are you alright, Delaney?" he asks softly. I shake my head and lean into him and he holds me.
He winds an arm around my waist and guides me towards the same stairs everyone has been taking. Some privacy for us, I suppose.
I don't really watch where we're going, but he opens a door and guides me to a chair in the room. I look up and see that we're in a library with shelves on every wall filled to the brim with books.
"Delaney," Darren says, drawing my attention to his face, which is inches from mine. He's kneeling on the floor in front of me. He cradles my face in his hand, his eyes confused. "What's wrong?"
"It makes me sick," I say after a moment of thinking. "Allison's behavior has disgusted me for years and when she finally gets what she deserves I help her?" I move my face away from his hand and stand from my chair.
"She wasn't even here for my family, she was here because of Patrick and jealousy. She didn't want anyone to steal her squeeze." I start pacing in front of the shelves and Darren watches me.
"I overheard her, you know. Telling Jessa to buy Patrick with her own money. And what Patrick said . . . I had some idea that Jessa was the source Allison got all of the secrets for the article from but . . . I can't believe she threatened her. And then I help Allison?"
Darren stands up and walks to me, putting his hands on my shoulders and stopping my pacing. "Delaney," he says softly. I try avoiding his eyes, but he takes one hand and gently tilts my chin up so that my eyes are drowning in his. "It's because of who you are. Someone was hurting and you were there to help. It doesn't mean you support any of her decisions in any way . . . It just means you're a compassionate person who can't stand to see people hurt."