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“This crowd is crazy,” she says.
“Yeah,” I agree, looking around. My eyes make their way down to the field. But I avoid looking directly at her.
Austin is taking small, calculated sips. Then he stops for a couple deep breaths and drinks again. Jaron is chugging huge gulps at a time. Ethan appears to be drinking a steady, super thin stream of milk.
“This is exciting,” she squeals.
I look at her the same way I would a cartwheeling elephant. “Which part is exciting?” I ask.
“You have three boys fighting over you,” she says. “That is going to be very memorable to the voting student body,” she adds. “You might actually have a chance to win this thing after all,” she whispers.
I choose not to respond and look down at the guys instead.
After twenty minutes of watching three boys drink milk, the crowd starts to get restless. Some people get up and leave. It’s late, I don’t blame them. I would leave too except I want this problem to finally be solved. I’m anxious to see who wins.
“Oh my gosh, look!” Mom points down at Ethan. His face has gone white. He sets his milk down on the ground and grabs his stomach. The crowd begins to stir. Several kids pull out their phones and begin recording. I shake my head. Nothing happens.
Then someone else shouts to look at Austin. Austin puts his milk down and covers his mouth. We all wait. Jaron looks at the two of them and laughs.
I feel like I am watching a scene unfold in slow motion. Then, at the exact same moment, Austin, Ethan, and Jaron’s mouths open and a stream of white pours out. Austin turns his back to us and throws up into the field. Jaron drops his milk,which runs around his feet as he vomits into the dirt. Ethan tries to look up and sprays a few kids in the front row, who all scream and begin running away. Everyone who is a safe distance away begins to laugh.
The smell of warm, regurgitated dairy begins wafting up the stands. Several people dry heave. Most cover their noses. We watch and wait.
“Who won?” Stephanie asks.
Murmurs begin to float around the bleachers.
“It was Ethan for sure.”
“No, I saw it with my own eyes. Austin was last.”
“I swear Jaron was a split second after the other two.”
Ethan stumbles forward, milk dribbles down his chin. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He picks up the microphone off the ground and raises his fisted hands above his head.
The crowd cheers and people begin to shout who they think should be the winner. Ethan brings the noise down by silencing them with his hands. Jaron and Austin stagger toward Ethan, joining him on either side. Austin’s face is still pale, but he smiles as he stands up tall. Jaron flexes his arms above his head. They both get another round of screaming and clapping from the stands. I cover my mouth and shake my head.
“I guess my challenge didn’t go according to plan,” Ethan says, grinning.
The crowd laughs. The three boys look to each other as if to ask, “Now what?”
Ethan raises the mic again. “I think we need your help deciding the winner,” he says, holding an open palm up to the vast crowd. He takes a few steps closer to Jaron. Hovering his hand in front of Jaron’s face he asks, “Did Jaron win?”
There’s a burst of cheers from the crowd. Ethan then walks over to Austin and holds a hand above his head. “WasAustin the winner?” The cheer from the crowd sounds identical to Jaron’s. I think Ethan thinks the crowd is going to be on his side. He’s putting on a show and using them to get what he wants. He really is clever. Both of us are surprised when he holds his hand above his own head and asks if he’s the winner. The volume from the stands doesn’t change. Ethan’s jaw drops open for just a second, before he closes it again.
“This is awful,” I whisper.
“What are you going to do?” Mom asks.
Before my mind can catch up to my legs, I’m on my feet and racing down the stadium steps.
The crowd goes crazy as I take the microphone from Ethan’s hands. They must think I’m about to declare a winner or something. I’m not about to talk in front of this many people. No way, no how. Instead, I lower the microphone, covering the top with my other hand.
“We’ve got to end this,” I say. Looking from one to the other. “Any ideas?”
“We could hold a spelling bee,” Austin says.
Jaron shakes his head. “Yeah, like that would be fair. What about a weight lifting competition?”
