I already knew that Cole Whitehurst thought he was better than everybody else, but did he think he was better than candy? And quality candy, too?
I didn’t understand how anyone could be too good for candy, and I also thought someone should introduce Cole to Mrs. Hillborn. They’d probably get along great.
But I watched in growing disbelief as Cole began picking through his stash and putting select pieces back into his knapsack. Hershey’s Special Dark, which, as far as I was concerned, was the bad penny of the Hershey’s miniature line. Almond Joy and Mounds, both of which had me tasting bile because coconut was worse than nougat. Dove Chocolate, Red Hots, and Junior Mints also made it into the bag.
“What are you going to do with the rest?” I asked, baffled.
Cole shrugged. “Throw it away.”
My eyes nearly fell out of my head. He might as well have said the GD word right in front of a priest. “You can’t do that!” I practically wailed, and then I thrust my Chinese wedding bag at him. “Give it to me!”
I didn’t care that he now looked at me like my snot bubbles had grown googly eyes. All that mattered was the candy. Normally, if I rationed myself to one piece a day, I could make my Halloween haul last until Christmas, but if I snagged all of snobby Cole Whitehurst’s candy too, perhaps I could coast until Valentine’s Day. And that achievement was worth a little humiliation.
Mama didn’t approve of spending money on candy. It was expensive, unhealthy, and unnecessary, she’d say. So I usually only got candy on holidays and on the rare occasion when I bought it for myself, but since I also only got money on holidays, that didn’t happen very often either.
Cole looked from me to his leftover pile. “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure,” he said under his breath but still loud enough for both me and Ava to hear. “Sure, weirdo, come and get it.”
I stood and walked around Ava, making sure I didn’t let my face show any reaction to his name-calling. He already thought I was dumb and tacky and cheap. Not worth knowing. What did it matter if he added weird and lowlife to the list? I was getting his candy.
I didn’t look him in the eye as I plunked down beside him and started grabbing handfuls of his leftovers, reassuring myself that this lump in the pit of my stomach would go away soon, and I’d be able to enjoy the spoils of his snobbishness.
I mean, really. Who would pass up Milk Duds?
But on my third handful, Cole grabbed my wrist. “Wait a minute,” he said, a spark of something igniting his pale blue eyes. “What about we make a trade?”
I narrowed my gaze at him. “What do you mean? You don’t want it, and you said I could have it.”
His stare locked with mine, and he looked like he was searching for something. “Yeah, but…” he said, working his mouth and frowning as though he were trying to solve a puzzle, “…that was before I knew how muchyouwanted it. If this stuff has value, you should pay for it… Otherwise, it’s like taking charity.”
The way he said the wordcharitymade my cheeks sting with shame. I clenched my teeth together. “Well, maybe Idon’twant it,” I said, dropping my handful back into his lap.
Cole smirked. “Now, just hold on,” he said with a wicked smile. “We both know you want it. What’s it worth to you?”
His voice had softened in a way that on other people might sound nice, but I knew he wasn’t being nice. Cole Whitehurst didn’t know how to be nice. When I didn’t answer, he let go of my wrist and picked up the fun-size bag of M&Ms I’d just dropped.
“How about this? Let’s make a deal. You can keep everything of mine you already have. Possession is nine-tenths of the law, after all,” he said, grinning.
I had no idea what those words meant, but I understood the part about keeping what I’d already claimed. That was a relief because I didn’t really know how much of that was his, and if I had to give it back now, I might actually lose some of my own candy in the bargain. Still, I said nothing.
He waved the M&Ms at me. “I’ll give you one of these for one box of your Junior Mints.”
I immediately shook my head. Junior Mints weren’t my favorite, but I’d seen him stuff those in his backpack when he’d kept none of the M&Ms. That meant he didn’t think they were the same value, so why should I?
“No way. You give me three of those, and I’ll give you one box of Junior Mints.”
Cole’s eyes widened in surprise, and to my amazement, he smiled. “Oh, so little Elise Cormier knows how to negotiate,” he murmured.
I scowled at him, not wanting him to see that I didn’t know whatnegotiatemeant. Why did he have to use such fancy words? He was fancy, and mean, and snobby, and I hated him so much.
“Okay, three for one. Deal,” he said, still smirking.
Without a word, I reached into my red bag and picked up a box of Junior Mints. He took it and gave me his three bags of M&Ms. Then he quirked a brow at me. “Any more?”
I glanced into my bag. I had two more Junior Mints. I didn’t want to give over both because, now, I was starting to wonder what was so good about them. Maybe I hadn’t given Junior Mints their due.
“I’ll give you one more box, but I want a Nestle Crunch and two Milk Duds instead.”
Cole seemed to laugh without making any noise, and I hated him all the more for that too. Who laughed without making noise? But he nodded and handed over the candy.
