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“Well； my runnin' a tab has probably contributed to that； and I'm sorry。 I'll be sure and get you
the whole sum this week； but consider buying
yourself a rooster with some of it。 I've got a friend down on Newb Street who is positively
green over my deviled eggs。 I gave her my recipe； but
she says hers just don't taste the same。” She winked at me。 “I'm certain she'd pay
handsomely for a supply of my secret ingredient if it became
available。” She turned to go； then said； “By…the…by； Julianna； you have done a mighty fine job
on that front yard。 Most impressive！”
“Thanks； Mrs。 Stueby；” I called as she slid open her patio door。 “Thanks very much。”
I finished scooping up the piles I'd made and thought about what Mrs。 Stueby had said。
Should I really get a rooster？ I'd heard that having one
around made chickens lay more； whether they were in contact with each other or not。 I could
even breed my chickens and get a whole new set of
layers。 But did I really want to go through all of that again？
……… Page 74………
Not really。 I didn't want to be the neighborhood rancher。 If my girls quit laying altogether； that
would be just fine with me。
I put away the rake and shovel； clucked a kiss on each of the hens； and went inside。 It felt
good to take charge of my own destiny！ I felt strong and
right and certain。
Little did I know how a few days back at school would change all of that。
Flipped
After the dinner Juli was nice to me at school。 Which I hated。 Mad was better than nice。
Gaga was better than … nice。 It was like I was a stranger to
her； and man； it bugged me。 Bugged me big…time。
Then the auction happened； and I found myself with even bigger problems。
The auction is this bogus way the Booster Club raises money for the school。 They insist it's
an honor to be chosen； but bull…stinkin'…loney to that！
Bottom line is； twenty guys get shanghaied。 They have to e up with fancy picnic lunches
and then be humiliated in front of the whole school while
girls bid to have lunch with them。
Guess who made this year's top twenty。
You'd think mothers would say； Hey； there's no way you're going to auction my son off to the
highest bidder； but no。 Instead； they're all flattered
that their son's been elected a basket boy。
Yes； my friend； that's what they call you。 Over the P。A。 you hear stuff like； “There will be an
organizational meeting of the newly elected basket
boys in the MPR at lunch today。 All basket boys must attend。”
Pretty soon you've pletely lost your name。 You and nieen other saps are known
simply as Basket Boy。
My mom； of course； was into it； ing up with all sorts of stuff to put in my basket so I'd get
the highest bid。 I tried to explain that I didn't want to
be in Mayfield Junior High's Basket Boy Hall of Fame； and that really； what was in the basket
didn't matter。 It wasn't like girls were bidding on the
basket。 When you got right down to it； this was a meat market。
“You eat lunch on campus and that's the end of it。 It is hardly a meat market； Bryce。 It's an
honor！ Besides； maybe someone really nice will bid on
you and you'll make a new friend！”
Mothers can be in such denial。
And then Garrett bends my ear with the news that Shelly Stalls is breaking up with Mitch
Michaelson； and that she； Miranda Humes； and Jenny
Atkinson are starting some bidding war over me。 “Dude！” he tells me。 “The two hottest chicks
on campus。 And I swear to god； man； Shelly's
dumped Mitch because of you。 I heard it direct from Shagreer； and dude； Shagreer the Ear
knows all。” He throws me this nasty grin and says； “Me；
I'm rooting for Jumbo Jenny。 It would serve you right for being such a basket boy。”
I told him to shut up； but he was right。 With the way my luck was running； I'd probably get
stuck with Jumbo Jenny。 I could just see it — six feet of
beefy babe downing both halves of my lunch and then ing after me。 Jenny's the only girl
or guy on campus who can dunk a basketball。 The
whole gym shakes when she lands。 And since she's got no； you know… female parabolas；
the girl could shave her head and make it in the NBA。
Seriously。 No one would ever suspect。
Her parents give her anything she wants； too。 Rumor has it they converted their garage into
a full…on basketball court just for her。
Which meant that in the game of the basket boys； I was as good as slam…dunked。
Unless； unless Shelly or Miranda was high bidder。 But how could I make sure that happened？
My brain went into overdrive； constructing a plan；
and in the end I decided that there was only one sensible course of action。
……… Page 75………
Kiss up to both of them。
Halfway through my first day of doing this； I felt like a skunk。 Not that I was being gross about
it or anything。 I was just； you know； friendly。 And even
though Shelly and Miranda didn't seem to smell a thing； Garrett did。
“Dude！” he says to me on Thursday。 “I can see your game； man。”
“What are you talking about？”
“Don't deny it； dude。 You're working them both。” He es up and whispers in my ear；
“Basket boy or not； I'm in awe。”
“Shut up； man。”
“Seriously！ The Ear says they were； like； clawing each other in P。E。 today。”
I had to know。 “What about … Jumbo Jenny？”
He shrugs。 “Haven't heard。 But we'll find out tomorrow； won't we； dude？”
My mother dropped me off at school on Friday with my stupid oversized picnic basket； and
since all basket boys have to dress up； I was choking
in a tie and feeling pletely dweeblike in slacks and dress shoes。
Kids whistled and shouted； “Oooh； baby！” as I headed up the walkway； and then Jumbo
Jenny passed me； taking the front steps three at a time。
“Wow； Bryce；” she said over her shoulder。 “You look… delicious。”
Oh； man！ I practically ran to the classroom where all the basket boys were supposed to meet；
and the minute I walked in； I felt better。 I was
surrounded by other dweebs； who seemed genuinely happy to see me。 “Hey； Loski”； “Yo；
dude”； “Doesn't this suck eggs？”； “Why didn't you take the
bus； man？”
Misery loves pany。
Then Mrs。 McClure； the president of the Boosters； the lady who lassoed us all； hoofs it
through the door。 “Oh； my！” she says。 “You all look so
handsome！”
Not one word about our baskets。 Not one little sneak peek inside。 No； for all she cared； those
puppies were empty。
Meat market？
You better believe it！
“Don't be so nervous； boys；” Mrs。 McClure was saying。 “You're going to have a wonderful
day！” She pulls out a list of names and starts ordering
us into line。 We get numbers； our baskets get numbers； we fill out three…by…five cards to her
insane specifications； and by the time she's got us all
organized and is sure we know what to do and what not to do； we've missed all of first and
most of second period。 “Okay； gentlemen；” she says