I groan. As it was Jackson’s idea, Wes and I thought it would be fun for him to be the caller. He leapt at the chance, but now I wonder if he’s chickening out. “What is it?”
“Aldo didn’t show,” he says. “Joy told me he’s at home sick right before she handed the decks over to Trey.”
I resist the urge to push my hand through my hair. “Fuck.”
“Don’t worry.” Zak appears at my side, his hand squeezing my shoulder. “We’ve got it sorted.”
I narrow my eyes. “Who does?”
“Don’t be so suspicious.” Zak waggles his eyebrows as he takes hold of Jackson’s shoulder and steers him away.
I glance over at where Wes was dancing but he’s gone. Fuck. How is it that everything is going exactly the way it’s supposed to tonight, but at the same time absolutely nothing is going right at all.
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen,” Jackson’s voice booms out across the room, and I turn to find him on stage behind the podium. “As much fun as it is bidding on incredible prizes for a good cause in the silent auction, we have a special treat for the students of Franklin West.”
The crowd cheers and Jackson grins ear to ear.
“If you could all take your seats, we’ll get our live auction underway!”
As everyone leaves the dancefloor, I have no choice but to head back to my table. The room is packed. The truth is, we had such a great response to the event that we had to turn a lot of people down.
“Okay,” Jackson says, sweeping his arm to the side of the stage like a gameshow host as Zak strides onto the stage. “Let’s welcome our first prize of the evening. We are going to open bidding for a one-one-one lacrosse training session with Zak Aldridge. Do I hear five hundred dollars?”
I sit back and laugh as my best friend hams it up, and the bidding gets up to twenty-eight hundred dollars before Jackson calls it. At my side, Jacey squeals and my grin widens.
The atmosphere is electric as study sessions, shopping trips, makeovers and dinners are auctioned off. Jackson is killing it, a complete natural. I glance over at his parents and my smile slips. His dad couldn’t look less impressed if he tried, glaring at his son where I expected him to be beaming. His mom seems more interested in her drink. Wondering if I’ve misread the room, I turn to my own parents, but they’re bright eyed and rosy cheeked from the laughter like everyone else.
“Next up, we have an extra special treat for you,” Jackson says. “We had a last-minute drop out, and one of the organizers of tonight’s incredible events has offered to step in.”
I frown, my stomach hollowing.What the fuck?Feeling eyes on me, I force a smile. Is this what Zak meant when he said he had it sorted? Offering me up instead? I’m going to fucking kill him.
“Instead of a swimming lesson with Wolves captain, Aldo Rossi, tonight we will be auctioning off a date!”
I can’t breathe. The crowd oohs, laughter and anticipation heightening the atmosphere to new levels.
“Let’s welcome to the stage, the prolific editor-in-chief of The Howl, Wes Bowers!”
My eyes widen, my mouth falling open as the crowd screams. I have to twist to see Wes’ table, and although I can’t see his face, from the rigid set of his shoulders, I’m guessing he knew as much about this as I did.
“Come on up, Wes,” Jackson urges. “Let’s make some more money for this excellent cause.”
My lips twitch at the subtle guilt trip, and as Wes begrudgingly gets to his feet, I have to hide my smile behind a fist. He looks fine as fuck tonight, in a midnight blue, velvet blazer, black shirt and pants.
As hilarious as this is, my heart goes to him. His face is as stoic as ever, but I know how miserable he must be right now. During ‘Operation Friendship’, he confided how much he hates being the center of attention.
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen,” Jackson says, waggling his eyebrows at the crowd. “Who is going to start the bidding for this handsome, young man?”
“Six hundred dollars,” a voice calls out, and I scowl as I turn and find the guy who was all over him earlier waving his hand.
“A thousand,” a gray-haired woman calls out.
Jackson grins and shakes his head, “This is for students only, ma’am.”
“I know,” she says, waving him away. “I’m buying him for my granddaughter.”
I snort, and when my parents turn to me with raised eyebrows, I shrug, still grinning. The second Wes stood and forced himself up onto that stage, I’d already made up my mind.
Cupping my hands to my mouth, I call out, “Twelve hundred dollars.”