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“Highway robbery,” Ever scoffed.

“It’s a fundraiser,” Nan corrected. “We do this to raise funds.”

“Well, the rides better be good after what I paid to get in.” She held up her wad of pink tickets and made a joke of emptying out her pocket.

They started with the food vendors. Ever stopped grumbling when she got a cotton candy as big as her head. Charlie munched away happily on an elephant ear while Nan skipped joyfully and waved to each of the students working the booths.

They came upon the infamous dunk tank that Makaylee had suggested they stop by, and Mina was surprised to see how long a line it had. The cheer squad was running the dunk tank. Mina couldn’t help but slow down and stare as the one and only Savannah crawled up to the seat above the tank of water and perched on the edge with her pom poms.

Mina watched in fascination as one of the basketball players, Avery Picket gave his money to take a shot at the target.

“Oh Avery, you don’t really want to hit that target and get me wet, do you?” She smiled sweetly at him. “How about you give another donation, and I’ll let you take me out on a date.”

He paused in his throw and tossed the ball up and caught it in his hand. “How about Friday?” he asked.

She turned in her seat, and Pri held up a date book and shook her head. “How about three Fridays from now?” Savannah smiled and twirled her hair.

Avery thought about it and said, “Deal.” He tossed the ball into a large bucket next to the dunk tank. Someone had plastered a big old white sign with red letters over the word “Dunk,” changing it to “Date.”

So instead of Dunk a Cheerleader, the squad had turned it into Date a Cheerleader. Mina watched, amazed, as almost every guy lined up booked a date with either Savannah or one of the other girls.

When a girl did make it to the line and chose to toss a ball at the target, they either didn’t have enough power to make it to the target or they had terrible aim.

“You gotta admit that’s pretty genius,” Nan chuckled. “Wish I would’ve thought of it first.”

“Yeah, well you didn’t,” Ever grumbled, following Charlie as something caught his eye.

He stopped in front of a milk-can toss and stared in awe at the large wooden popgun prize.

“Three throws for five dollars,” the wiry carnival vendor coaxed. He was in his thirties and was one of the traveling fair’s employees.

“There’s no way we can win that, it’s rigged.” Mina tried to dissuade him from the game.

“Nonsense,” the vendor replied. “It’s easy as pie.” He came over to their side of the booth and, with one easy lob, tossed the softball into the milk can.

Charlie lit up. He wasn’t going to leave the booth until he had at least tried the game. So they wasted five dollars on the game to watch the ball spin around the top and roll right across the opening. Instead of falling into the hole, it rolled up and over the side. Charlie was devastated.

“Too bad. Maybe next time.” The vendor smiled, showing tobacco-stained teeth.

Ever slapped five more bucks down and gave Charlie a wink. “My turn.”

She grabbed the softball and tossed it underhand in a perfect arc for the milk can. It hit the edge, rolled around the rim and fell off. She frowned and tried again. This time, the ball went up and was falling in a perfect arc, right at the hole. But it changed course and bounced off the lip at the last second. Ever tossed her last throw—even more on point than the last—and it rolled into the middle, then popped out.

“That’s impossible,” Ever touched her finger to her lips and cast a suspicious glance at the vendor. He smiled slyly while counting out the bills in his apron.

“Oh, too bad. Better luck next time.” He waved them on.

Ever rolled up her sleeves and slammed another five dollars down.

The vendor smiled. “Oh you want to try again?”

“No, I’m betting you five bucks that you can’t make the shot again. If you can’t do it. I get to pick a prize.”

His eyes lit up in challenge. “Deal, and I’ll only need one toss.”

“Don’t count on it,” Ever said under her breath to Nan and Charlie.

The vendor picked up a softball and came over to stand behind the counter and toss the ball into the same milk can.


Tags: Chanda Hahn An Unfortunate Fairy Tale Fantasy