Page 16 of Blind Date
The audience erupted into laughter.
“Last week, one of my students told me that if Daisy Buchanan were alive today, she would’ve been a social media influencer.”
The audience laughed again. She was funny, and I was highly intrigued.
I held up my hand. “I bid $50,000.”
She looked at me and squinted her eyes.
“60,000,” Bart St. Clair said.
“Not tonight, Bart. Not tonight,” I whispered to myself. “$100,000.” I raised my hand.
“100,000 for this lovely English teacher,” Finn said. “Going once. Going twice…”
“$110,000,” Bart St. Clair said.
Jesus Christ.
“$200,000.” I raised my hand.
“$200,000. Going once, going twice,” Finn paused. “Sold to Mr. Castile himself.”
Once the blind auction was over, I was called on stage to give a speech.
“Good evening, everyone. Thank you for joining us tonight. This school meant a lot to my grandfather. Agustus Castile was a superstar here. Not only for his athletic skills, but also for his academic skills. When I heard that the school was facing hardship, I knew I had to step in. This school meant the world to my grandfather, and if he were alive today, he would have done the same thing. Tonight’s turnout has been amazing, and I, along with Castile Properties, thank you for bringing your checkbooks to help keep this fine establishment up and running. After all, the future is the children who graduate from this school. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
The audience clapped, and I stepped off the stage.
“Oh, my God!” Kylie ran over and threw her arms around me. “I can’t believe you did that. But I know why, and I swear to God, Wes.”
“It’s not nice to swear to God, Kylie. Relax. You pulled this off. It was a success, and the board will be happy. Now, I must go meet my date.” I winked and walked away.
I found Samantha Hollis over by the punch bowl.
“You’re a pretty expensive date.” I smiled.
“You.” She pointed at me.
“Well, you could have done worse.” A smirk crossed my lips.
“I highly doubt it.” She tipped the cup to her lips.
“I’m Weston Castile. You’re a high school English teacher, eh?”
“Mr. Monopoly, eh?” she spat back.
“Are you available tomorrow evening for our date?” I asked.
“I suppose it’s best to get it over with. Tomorrow night will be fine.”
“I’ll need your address.” I pulled out my phone.
“For what?”
“To pick you up?” My brows furrowed.
“I can meet you wherever.”
