At the time, her suggestion had seemed thrilling. To have Malaika bid on him wouldn’t just undo last year’s fiasco, it would elevate him to the stuff of legends. But now, it sounds ridiculous, ill-advised. It’s unheard of for a non-student to bid on the auction. What if Mrs. McCarthy kicks her out?
“Next up is Calan Dewar!”
The sound of his name interrupts his reverie.
Calan looks up to see Mrs. McCarthy beaming in his direction, waving her hand like a magician, urging him to the center. Calan takes a deep breath. He watches as Trevor—who has just raised $28—exits to the right, marching confidently all the way to the back. He scans the crowd as he scuttles to the designated spot. He can’t make out the whispers coming from the line behind him, but he catches the smirks on the boys’ faces. He doesn’t dare look up at the girls.
Calan stands center stage, looking down at his feet, his heart racing. Mrs. McCarthy is reciting the items in his picnic basket. He wants to make eye contact with Malaika, but he’s afraid that if he does, he’ll start to cry. That’s how nervous he feels.
Mrs. McCarthy kicks off the bid at ten dollars. Calan holds his breath.
“Twenty dollars.”
Calan looks up to see Malaika’s delicate hand in the air. The girls around her are staring, mouth agape. Calan manages to cast a shaky smile in her direction.
“Twenty dollars,” Mrs. McCarthy repeats, grinning. “Do I hear twenty-two?”
Calan lets out a deep breath. There, it’s done. He doesn’t need to worry anymore. He’ll be out of there in a matter of seconds. He and Malaika will enjoy a lovely picnic together at the park.
But right then, the unthinkable happens.
Ashley Higgins raises her hand and bids twenty-two dollars.
Calan feels his legs turn watery. He waits for Ashley to start laughing, pointing. A cruel nod to the Snapchat video she hadn’t sent. Instead, Ashley runs her hands through her long, brown hair and shoots him a shy smile.
Malaika gives Ashley an appreciative glance and turns to Ms. McCarthy. “Twenty-five dollars.”
Calan watches dumbfounded as Ashley blushes. Behind him, the whispers are growing louder. What the hell is going on? he hears one boy saying.
Ashley bids twenty-eight dollars, not bothering to return Malaika’s gaze.
Malaika shoots him a questioning look. Is she asking if she should let Ashley win? But that’s an impossible question—like someone asking if he’d rather meet Batman or Spiderman. He gives her a blank stare because it’s all he can muster.
Malaika seems to interpret his reaction as encouragement. She increases her bid by two dollars. Ashley does the same. Ms. McCarthy tries to echo the increasing bids, but soon gives up.
They’re at thirty-eight dollars now. Two dollars more and Calan will have raised more money than any other boy in his grade. Even Ralph. It’s Ashley’s turn.
“Fifty dollars,” Ashley announces, and leans back on her seat, crossing her arms, a satisfied expression spreading across her heart-shaped face. Calan holds his breath. This can’t be a joke. No one would bid $50 for a joke. Would they?
Around them, the girls all look like cartoon animals: bulging eyes, mouths hanging open.
Calan sneaks a peek to the side. The boys look like they’ve just seen a spaceship.
“One-hundred dollars,” Malaika says.
The entire gazebo gasps in unison.
Ashley whips to the side. “Are you kidding me?”
Malaika doesn’t bother looking at her. She fixates her gaze on Mrs. McCarthy who has just repeated the amount in question form. Malaika nods, confirming her offer.
“Sold,” Mrs. McCarthy says, nearly out of breath, “to the beautiful young lady in the third row for an unprecedented one-hundred dollars! Thank you for your generosity, my dear! The Children’s Institute will certainly appreciate it!”
The crowd cheers and claps enthusiastically—not just the students inside the gazebo, but the parents who are standing in the town square as well. His mom raises her fist in the air and lets out a whooping sound, but then Aunt Caroline whispers something in her ear and leads her away.
Calan can feel his classmates looking at him as though he is someone else. The New Calan Dewar.
Calan and Malaika are sitting on a yellow plaid blanket on the south side of Hildegard Park.
It’s the perfect day for a picnic: crystalline sky, comforting autumn breeze. The leaves have begun changing, so Hildegard Park looks even more stunning than usual, blazing in hues of copper, red, and orange.
Malaika is rummaging through the basket his mom packed. She takes out two red reusable cups and hands one of them to Calan. He pours the hot tea slowly and carefully—hers first, of course.
“A toast,” she says, raising her cup. “To showing this town how much you’re worth!”
Calan feels his cheeks redden. He has no idea why Malaika is so nice to him, but right then he feels imbued by a sense of profound gratitude. Just one year ago, he’d been crying in his room because his mom had been the only one to bid on him and now—well, now he’s with the most beautiful girl in the entire world. He can’t believe his luck.
“Did you see that girl’s face?” Malaika lets out a bell-like laugh. “I thought she was going to murder me.”
Calan grins. “I still can’t believe that happened.”
Why did Ashley bid on him? He wonders if this means she’ll talk to him in school. Should he approach her? Thank her for her bid? No—she’ll probably laugh at his face. His mind flashes back to when Fat Cory called him an Unsullied during P.E. class. Ashley had laughed like he had made the world’s most original joke. What had made her want to hang out with him now?
“You deserve it!” Malaika says.
“But
