I almost didn’t have a choice. Before Mrs. McClure could say two words about Bryce or his basket, Shelly called, “Ten!”
Then from the middle of the gym came “Twenty!” It was Miranda Humes, with her hand way in the air.
They went back and forth, back and forth, higher and higher, until Shelly called, “Sixty-two!”
“I can’t believe it,” I whispered to Darla. “Sixty-two dollars! C’mon, Miranda, come on.” “I think she’s out. Shelly’s got it.”
“Sixty-two dollars going once!” cried Mrs. McClure, but before she could say, Going twice! a voice from the back of the gym called, “A hundred!”
Everyone gasped and turned around to see who had called the bid. Darla whispered, “It’s Jenny.”
“Atkinson?” I asked. Darla pointed. “Right over there.”
She was easy to spot, standing tall above the others in the number-seven basketball jersey she almost always wore.
“Wow,” I whispered, “I had no idea.” “Maybe she’ll slam-dunk him for you,” Darla said with a grin. “Who cares?” I giggled. “She slam-dunked Shelly!”
Mrs. McClure was gushing into the microphone about the record-breaking bid when a big commotion broke out over by Miranda.
I spotted Shelly’s hair, and my first thought was that there was going to be a fight.
But instead, Shelly and Miranda turned to face Mrs. McClure and called, “One-twenty-two fifty!”
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