Page 4 of Theirs

I remember him telling me stories about these guys now, and all of their names finally come back to me other than Colin’s, who is too young to have gone to school when they did. I vaguely remember Kane telling me about MacKenna and how all the girls would basically fall to their knees, begging to please him.

Kane blushes, and the emcee for the evening announces that the women for the auction dates are to report to the stage. Guess Kane is saved by the bell. I quickly drain my wine and pat my brother on the shoulder.

“Wish me luck, bro,” I say, giving him a wink. “Remember what we discussed. Be generous or I might have to embarrass you some more in front of your friends.”

***

I feel like such a poser next to these girls. Just like high school prom, or the time I tried to join the cheer squad in high school, I don’t fit in next to them. Fake tits from the bathroom stands next to me and keeps bragging about how Dr. Big Dick is going to bid on her. As a matter of fact, all these women look some sort of fake. Granted, my hair color is fake, but that’s not plastic surgery. At least my body modifications have never required anesthesia.

“Who did your Botox?” one of the girls behind me asks another.

I turn around just as the girl tells her the doctor’s name. I squint, not seeing a wrinkle on the girl.

“How old are you?” I blurt. “You look like you’re eighteen.”

“Thanks!” she says, pleased at what she thinks is a compliment. “Guess the Botox is working. I’m twenty-four.”

“Who told you that you needed Botox?” I know the wrinkles on my forehead are showing. That’s what human bodies are supposed to do! Wrinkle!

“My mom,” she says with a smile and a roll of her eyes. “I’m not going to be able to find a wealthy husband if I can’t hold onto my youth.”

Ahh! What the actual hell? Is this the group of women that Kristen has to deal with? Women who think they need to modify their bodies to be what the men want? Newsflash, men don’t do anything to change their bodies. Most of them don’t slave away in the gym, give up calories, spend a shit ton of money on plastic surgery and makeup. Why should I have to morph myself into what the average male likes? Maybe that’s why I’m single and living in a studio apartment in the ghetto with my long-haired black cat, Mr. Snuffy. He’s the only guy I need in my life. He’s the only living being that has unconditionally loved me. He’s a true keeper.

“Ms. Teagan Sullivan,” says a woman with us backstage.

“Well, wish me luck, ladies,” I tell the other girls who remain backstage. “My time to shine.”

I approach the curtain, suddenly nervous. My skin itches in anticipation of everyone’s eyes on me. I’ve done this before in college though, we’ve done date auctions plenty of times. This should be easy peasy, but it feels like the stakes are higher. I don’t think any of the dates will be purchased for less than five thousand. In college, no one was able to bid over a couple hundred because we were all so broke after paying membership fees, tuition, and months supplies of Ramen noodles and White Claw.

“Give an applause for Teagan Sullivan,” says the emcee into a mic as the curtains are pulled open. I can’t see a damn thing because the stage lights are so bright. I take small steps as I walk toward the center of the stage and give a friendly wave.

“Ms. Sullivan is twenty-five and a graduate of Northwestern University,” says the emcee, trying to spice up my interest form that I filled out. “She’s the younger sister of Kane Sullivan who is a lawyer at one of Chicago’s biggest firms. She enjoys... walking dogs, getting new tattoos, rooting on the Chicago Blackhawks, and finding all the secret clubs Chicago has to offer.”

I grin as the emcee tries to refrain from judging my extracurriculars.

“Let’s start the bidding at six thousand,” says the emcee as the auctioneer begins shouting off numbers.

Holy fuck, six grand for a date with me. No, ten, fifteen, twenty. Holy crap.

I put my hand up to search the crowd and see if Kane is doing the bidding, but I can’t see him. I can’t see shit. And now it’s up to fifty. What the shit is this? What have Kane and Kristen got me into? What if a mafia guy buys me and...

“One million!” shouts the auctioneer and my body freezes, but the auction of me continues.

Kane isn’t going to be able to win me, he’s just starting out at the firm, he doesn’t have this kind of money, even with some of the trust fund. Some weirdo is going to buy me, and I’m actually going to have to go on a date with them.

“It’s for charity, it’s for charity,” I say, closing my eyes and repeating the statement over and over.

Suddenly, the auctioneer stops, and someone in a suit is whispering something to the emcee. Her face brightens and she smiles at me and then turns to the crowd.

“Gentlemen, it looks like there’s been a change of plans,” says the emcee to the crowd. “It looks like Mr. Sullivan has vouched for the lovely Teagan to auction herself off for not one, not two, but four dates. Top four bidders will earn an evening with Ms. Sullivan. Let’s continue on with the bids.”

Mother-fucking-Kane!

My body tenses, and I grit my teeth. There’s no way that he can get away with doing this to me. He would never have done this to Kristen, so why would he do it to his sister?

“Think about the kids with cancer,” I say, squeezing my hands into fists at my sides. “Do it for the kids.”

The crowd cheers as the auction of me comes to the end. And I’ve lost track of how much the bids ended up coming out to. Kane meets me at the bottom of the stairs when I exit the stage, and I want to punch that smile off his face.

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