Chapter 7
PENN
The festival waseverything that I had expected it to be, just with a lot more jelly beans than I could have ever imagined. The evening was winding down, and everyone was gathering around the gazebo where a man stood at a podium with a large picnic basket.
“Townspeople of Aveline. Thank you for coming to the one-hundred-and-seventy-fifth annual Jelly Bean Festival. As always, we have our very sought-after prize here, but before we announce the winner—”
“Oh my God, Mr. Fitzgerald does this every single year.” Darcy was standing in front of me. I hadn’t seen her since I’d inadvertently killed her fish, but somehow, in a crowd of people, she just happened to be one row in front of me.
“Get on with it!” she yelled, her hands cupped over mouth.
“Darcy Miller, I know that’s you!” Mr. Fitzgerald continued scanning the audience. “As I was saying, before we announce the prize winner, I don’t know how many times I need to...”
Lettie turned to Darcy this time. “What do you think it is? Reminding us that it is unethical to share Netflix passwords? Or that the speed limit on Magnolia is ten?”
“Netflix,” Tuck answered.
Mr. Fitzgerald pulled the microphone to him. “...remind everyone that here in Aveline...” I watched the three of them lean in closer. “It is not appropriate, at any time of day or night, to walk around in the buff. Clothes are always required unless you are in the privacy of your own home.”
I wondered what could have prompted this announcement when Darcy yelled, “Lame!” and I couldn’t help but laugh. She turned around, and when she saw me, she squinted and pointed her fingers from her eyes to me, as though she were keeping tabs on me.
She really didn’t like me.
Which was unfortunate for her because I was starting to become quite fond of annoying Darcy.
“Thank you for another unsolicited outburst, Miss Miller.”
“You’re welcome!” Darcy giggled.
“Without further ado...it’s time for the basket.” Mr. Fitzgerald dug his hand into a bowl next to him.
Everyone who entered the festival was given a ticket and had the ability to purchase additional ones for a better chance of winning the Jelly Bean Basket that, from my understanding, was not even filled with jelly beans.
“Everyone, take out your tickets.”
There was rustling all around me as people gathered their tickets. Mr. Fitzgerald showed the crowd that he had pulled only one. “I have the winning ticket here. So, if your number matches, please come up and collect your prize. If yours does not match, better luck next year.” He cleared his throat and began reading, “5563210… I repeat, 5563210.”
I read the number on my ticket. 5563210.
“Huh, that’s crazy,” I said, reading over my ticket again.
“I won!” Darcy yelled, jumping up and down. “I won! I knew it was my lucky year.” She began walking through the crowd to the front when I decided to follow her.
After all, I had won, too.
Darcy looked back at me. “What are you doing?”
“I won,” I replied.
Her eyes widened, and she stopped moving. “No. That’s not possible. It’s right here. 5563210.”
I shrugged. “Mine has the same number.”
Darcy pushed her way to me and snatched the ticket out of my hand, comparing them to each other. I watched her lips move as she read the numbers, matching each to the other. “How is this possible?” she muttered.
“What’s in the basket?” I asked her as she stared at the tickets in her hand. “Is there like a bunch of money or something? Diamonds? The map to a treasure?”
“No,” she said, looking defeated. She handed me back my ticket. “Pies.”
“Pies? Like the food?” I questioned, wondering how a basket full of pies could mean so much.
She huffed. “No, pies like the math equation. Yes, food! But not just pies. It has donuts and sandwiches and homemade blueberry jam.”
“Actually pi is a number,” I began, but the look on Darcy’s face made me abruptly close my mouth. Still not following, I decided to chance her hitting me and asked, “Okay, pies the food. Got it. So...you really wanted a picnic or something?”
“Yes. No. I just really wanted to win, okay? But now, with your personal vendetta, somehow, you have managed to not only run me over and kill my fish, but you stole my prize!”
I held my hands up in surrender. “Hey now, I didn’t steal anything. You can have the basket; it’s fine.”
Darcy scoffed. “I can’t just have the basket. We both won. It wouldn’t feel right taking it for myself. I’m not Marcus. It’s not a true win.”
“Who is Marc—” I began but quickly changed my mind. “Never mind.”
Mr. Fitzgerald put his hand up over his eyebrows, shielding himself from the lights around the gazebo. “Darcy? Is that you? Did you finally win?”
“They tied! Her and the new guy. The one with the nice blue eyes!” one woman shouted.
Mr. Fitzgerald’s hands shot to his mouth in shock. “A tie? How could they have tied? No one has ever tied before.”
“What do we do?” a man yelled from the crowd, and a chorus of conversation erupted from the crowd.
One person shouted, “This has never happened before!”
“How could this happen?” another yelled.
Mr. Fitzgerald hit a gavel on the podium and shushed the crowd. I hadn’t even known he had one of those. “Quiet down. Hush. Come on now, there is only one thing to do.” He paused dramatically. “Darcy Miller and the new guy will share the prize.”
Darcy looked over at me and sighed heavily. “I’m telling you right now, if there is only one raspberry tart, it’s mine.”
I pulled my lips in and nodded. “Duly noted.”