Felix
“I knew something was going on, but I never imagined something like this,” Felix’s mom said. They sat on a buddy bench outside, near the bus parking lot.
Felix was freezing, but his mom didn’t seem to notice the temperature.
“I’m sorry I didn’t win the money.” Felix pulled his knees to his chest. “If I’d won the challenge…we’d be okay.”
“Felix. We are okay.” She rubbed the back of her neck and took a breath before continuing. “What did I tell you? You don’t need to worry about money. That’s not your responsibility. It’s mine.”
“We don’t have an apartment. You quit your job at the warehouse. And I could have made everything better for us.” His nose ran—maybe from the cold, possibly from the realization that the challenge was actually over, and they’d lost.
She put an arm around his shoulder. “Hey, hey. I’ll figure it out. That is my role as your mom, Felix. I take care of you. You don’t take care of me.”
“No.” He shook his head. “That’s not true. We take care of each other.”
“Yes. We’re a team. But I’m the coach and four of the starting players.”
“And what am I?” Felix asked.
“You’re the star of the team. You’re responsible for playing your best at every game and at every practice. You show up, ready to win but knowing we’ll lose sometimes. And you do not need to worry about where we play or where I’m getting the uniforms from.”
He glanced at her. “I think that’s the manager’s job, not the coach’s.”
“Oh yeah, is that so? Then I’m the manager, too. I’m a busy woman.”
He laughed, and his teeth chattered.
“I’ve done a good job up to this point. Haven’t I?” his mom asked.
“Yeah. But you have to admit, ten million would have made your job easier.”
“Absolutely. Just like ten thousand made my life easier.”
“Ten thousand?” he asked, and it dawned on him as the words left his mouth—the half-court shot.
“I’m still working at the nursing home, and that money will help with school and an apartment and even buy Freebie a few Milk-Bones. And when that’s gone, we’ll sue Laura Friendly for child endangerment.”
“Seriously?” he asked.
“No.”
“Can I get new sneakers?” The red-and-white Flights he was wearing were going to disappear at midnight.
“Not those Nikes.” She patted his shoes. “Those are way too expensive.”
Thursday, December 2
In the morning, Felix walked into Stirling Middle School no longer a millionaire, or even a potential millionaire—just an average seventh-grade student. Well, one who’d, yet again, been the star of a viral video. As he made his way down the hall, every head turned, and every conversation paused. He still didn’t enjoy the attention, but it didn’t bother him as much anymore. Then he spotted Benji waiting for him by his locker, holding a bag from Downtown Donuts.
School was different than it was a month ago. School was better.
“Here ya go. Georgie even gave me a discount.” He handed it to Felix.
“Thanks.” Felix put his coat and lunch away.
“So did you decide?” Benji asked. “What’s the one thing you’re going to keep?” Benji had texted the details of the consolation prize last night.
“I don’t know. Either my Air Flights or my iPhone.” Felix patted his pocket. He really didn’t want to give up his phone. He might never get another one. But the sneakers were his favorite shoes ever—and he considered them lucky. “What about you?”
“The Obi-Wan robe.”
“Even though it’s from Phantom Menace?” Felix raised his eyebrows.
“Good point. Maybe the Hermès bag.”
Felix closed his locker and turned to go to homeroom—and came face to face with Aidan.
“Look! It’s the world’s biggest morons.” Aidan spoke loudly enough to get everyone’s attention. “You seriously couldn’t find a way to spend five million in a month? I could do it in a week.”
“There were a lot of rules.” Benji shrugged and walked between Aidan and Felix.
Aidan scrambled to get in front of Benji. “I’d have bought a mansion.”
“No real estate,” Benji said as he tried to step around him.
“I’d have taken a cruise around the world.” Aidan blocked his path.
“Um, school. Duh? Didn’t have time.” Benji shook his head.
“Then I’d have bought the Mets,” Aidan said.
Benji rolled his eyes and then shared a look with Felix. Neither of them bothered to point out that baseball teams cost way more than five million dollars. (Five million couldn’t even buy you a decent relief pitcher.)
“How did you blow this, Felix?” Since Benji didn’t seem to be taking the bait, Aidan turned his attacks on Felix. “You’re a puny loser, but people say you’re smart. Or at least have more brain cells than the giant.”
Felix noticed Benji’s hands balled into fists. The school had a zero-tolerance policy on violence. If Benji threw a punch—no matter how much Aidan deserved it—he’d be suspended, at the very least. And Aidan would definitely have a dented face.
“Do you know what I think?” Aidan continued. “You two—”
“Do you know what I think?” Felix cut Aidan off. “I think I finally get the quote by the philosopher David Hume. The one about the oyster. Remember that one, Benji?”
“Yeah.” Benji gave a thoughtful nod. “Let me try to explain it to you, Aidan. In this great big ole universe, man is no more important than an oyster. Or something like that.” Benji shrugged, and Felix agreed that it was close enough.
Aidan’s face wrinkled. He obviously didn’t get it.
“And you, Aidan, are an oyster,” Felix explained. “You’re just not that important.”
“Definitely an oyster,” Benji said, and laughed.
“And you’re both idiots!” Aidan yelled. “Especially you, Barney. You’ve always been an idiot.”
Benji stopped laughing. He took a giant step forward and stood chest to chest with Aidan.
“My name is Benji. Not Barney. Benji.” He didn’t move, almost daring Aidan to call him anything other than his name.
“Whatever, Bar…” Aidan couldn’t seem to finish any name. “I’m not an oyster.” Then he slunk away.
“I’m not an oyster.” Benji did his best Aidan impression.
Both Benji and Felix laughed again. It took a few more minutes before they stopped cracking up and walked toward their homeroom.
“Ya know,” Benji said, “to be honest, I still don’t think I really understand that Hume quote. We can’t all be oysters.”
“You’re not an oyster, buddy.”
Ms. Chenoweth stood outside her classroom door as if she’d been waiting for them. “I can’t believe that woman gave you such an irresponsible challenge. I’m sorry. Some adults don’t think of their influence on children.”
“It’s not like she locked us in a cage,” Benji said.
“We had some fun,” Felix added.
“I’m sure you did.” Ms. Chenoweth nodded. “I would have taken a nice vacation. Somewhere I could drink out of a coconut by a pool.”
“That sounds okay,” Benji said. “But also a little boring.”
Students gathered.
“You know what I would do?” Madisyn asked. “I’d buy my mom a new car, and then I’d donate the rest. And maybe go to a Clean Cut concert.” She pointed to her giant pin of the four-member boy band.
Alma came up behind them and poked Benji in the side. “I’d buy the whole school pizza.”
“Very funny.” Benji smiled at her, and his face turned pink.
“I’d go to China,” Max Wade said, “and see the Great Wall. Maybe buy a Dodge Tomahawk V10 Superbike. It’s the coolest motorcycle ever.”
Felix shook his head. “There were rules. No vehicles. No charities. No donations. No gifts.”
Still, everyone had ideas. Clothes, vacations, plastic surgery, telescopes, traveling circuses, radioactive spiders, trips to the moon, and then the suggestions got weird.
And it gave Felix an idea.