I chuckle. “You mean before I win the car.”
“You haven’t been first place yet,” she says, writing an answer on the worksheet. “I have.”
“Wait…” I look over the problem she just answered because something seems off. “That’s not right. You’d need to calculate the interest yearly not monthly.”
“Huh?” She looks back at the problem. “Oh crap, you’re right.”
She erases her answer and reworks the math. “I’m not giving you kudos for this,” she says under her breath.
I snort. “Oh, and my free food offer is good forever… not just for this week.”
She glances over at me. “Wow… thanks.”
“Bring those sisters of yours as well if you want.”
Her expression brightens. “That’s really nice of you. Still not giving you kudos.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say, standing up. “You won’t give me points for anything, I know. Despite the that fact I’ve given you points.”
“Wait, you have?” she says curiously.
I nod and then walk back to my desk. A few minutes later, my phone vibrates from my pocket. Back at my desk, I pull out my phone and check it because this teacher is cool and doesn’t care if we have phones out so long as he’s not giving a lesson. My score has gone up by one hundred points, putting me in second place.
I look over at the back of Abby’s head. I think I just got my first kudos from my crush.
Thirteen
ABBY
I have discovered the one thing that can make all three of my little sisters behave: winning a car. Well, the possibility of winning a car. I guess they didn’t take it too seriously when I first told them about the competition at the start of the month. But then when Un-bully emailed everyone the newest promotional video they had made with the footage they took of us at the dealership, my sisters were intrigued. They too, love the red Jeep.
My Abuela is feeling hopeful about the whole thing. She keeps telling me how proud she is of me for maintaining such a high ranking on the app. I don’t even think she cares about the new car as much as she’s proud of her granddaughter for being a friendly, caring person.
“You should offer to babysit!” Maria says while we sit around the kitchen table eating sandwiches.
“Kids can’t give me kudos,” I say, reaching for a Cheeto.
“Yeah, but teenagers in the high school can. Offer to babysit their siblings so they don’t have to. Everyone hates babysitting.”
“That’s a really good idea,” I say, but then I throw a Cheeto at her. “As if you have any idea about babysitting!”
“Hey, I have to watch Pippa all the time!” she says, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
Abuela and I just laugh. We both know that we do all the babysitting around here. After lunch, I promise Maria that I’ll offer to babysit in order to keep my first place status for this last day.
Yep.
Today is the last day. It’s Sunday, thirty days after the competition started. At midnight, whoever is in the lead will officially win the car, and then Un-bully will move on to the next school they’re going to torment with this competition. Sure, some of this month has been fun, and the idea of getting a car is so exciting now that I’m in first place, but I’m still tired. This was hard work. When I win the car, I will totally deserve it.
I clean up everyone’s plates in the kitchen and then I check the app. I’m still in first place, and Mark is still in second place, just like last night. Third through tenth place has changed a lot, though. I’m only six hundred and twelve points ahead of Mark. Mark is two thousand points ahead of third place. It’s coming down to us, and there are only twelve hours left until midnight.
Since Maria’s idea was actually amazing, I head to my bedroom and close the door to keep my sisters away, and then turn on Netflix. I pull up Instagram and go through all the people I’m following, trying to remember which of my classmates have little siblings they might get stuck babysitting from time to time. I type up a nice message that says I’d like to offer them a free babysitting session, redeemable whenever they want over the next year, then I copy it and paste it into DMs as I go down my Instagram list.
While I’m casually scrolling and sending DMs, a new message icon pops up. I sit up in bed, hoping that whoever messaged me is about to accept my offer and then give me kudos. Only Mark Caputo’s face stares at me from his tiny profile picture.
Why is Mark messaging me?
Mark: Hi there
Hi there? What the heck does that mean?
My chest constricts. Every time I see Mark he tries a new way to flirt with me. He’s always smiling at me, or saying nice things, or correcting my accounting homework. He even offered me free food at his restaurant! What a jerk. I know he’s only doing these things to win me over so I’ll give him kudos and he’ll win instead of me. Well, it’s not going to happen.
So what if he’s incredibly cute?
So what if his grin makes me weak in the knees?
So what if I look forward to seeing him every day at school just so I can pretend to ignore him?
I do not have a crush on Mark Caputo. He’s my enemy. As of right this moment, and for the next twelve hours, Mark is Enemy Number One. He’s all that stands between me and the new Jeep of my dreams.
I’m going to crush him.
With all the confidence I can muster, I type out a reply.
Me: Why yes, you can ride with me in my new Jeep. I’m assuming that’s why you’re messaging me?
Mark: I was actually messaging you to say you can ride in my new truck with me. Maybe we could go
