Millionaires for the Month Page 2

  “Sorry. I wish I could take you out,” Georgie said. “Just make something when you get home. Okay?” She turned to him quickly and gave a sad smile. He hadn’t meant to make her feel guilty.

  Ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of the apartment complex. The buildings were royal blue with white trim, and each apartment had a small balcony. For almost a year, Felix and his mom had lived in a one-bedroom unit on the top floor. It was the nicest place they’d ever had.

  “Do you need me to walk you in?” Georgie asked, faking a huge yawn.

  “No. I’m fine,” Felix lied. “Thanks for the ride.” He got out and headed to building four.

  Felix wasn’t afraid to be home alone. He was twelve and capable of taking care of himself. But entering a dark and empty apartment made his heart race. He ran up the stairs two at a time even though his short legs weren’t meant for the stretch, and then pulled out his key and opened the door.

  A single light was on over the kitchen sink. The rest of the place was blanketed in darkness. Felix went from room to room—there weren’t many—turning on lights and checking under the bed, in closets, and in the bathtub for a murderer. Rationally, he didn’t expect to actually find a murderer or kidnapper behind the shower curtain. But he felt better knowing for sure.

  No murderers. He was alone. Like always.

  His mom had left him a note on the kitchen table.

  Felix,

  I’ll be home by midnight. Make yourself a can of soup and do your laundry.

  Love,

  Mom

  Doing laundry required money, and that gave Felix an idea. He grabbed the change jar from the counter and dumped it. He counted $8.25. That was all they had. He couldn’t even pay back Laura Friendly for his half if he wanted to. And he definitely wanted to.

  Benji

  Benji was standing in his bedroom, wearing only his underwear, when his mom barged in. He had the entire second floor to himself (three bedrooms, two bathrooms, only child), but still, Benji sometimes felt like he was suffocating.

  “Mom!” He snatched a blanket off his bed and wrapped it around his waist.

  “Sorry.” She covered her eyes. “I didn’t see anything. May I come in?”

  “May I have a lock on my door?”

  “No,” she answered. It was an old argument. His dad had taken the lock off when Benji was five because he’d barricaded himself in and painted the walls with organic blueberry preserves. And in the seven years since, it seemed Benji hadn’t earned back their trust.

  “I reviewed your social studies essay.” His mother held out a paper bleeding in red ink.

  “Thanks.” He grabbed it. She insisted on checking over his homework and projects even though he also got extra help at school for reading and writing.

  “I think you’re rushing through your work,” she said. “You need to take more time.”

  “That’s not it. Even if I spent ten hours on it, it wouldn’t be any better. Words and me don’t mix.” In truth, he had rushed the essay. But it was also true that more time wouldn’t make a difference.

  “That’s why I’m helping.” His mom nodded. “Fix it before bed. It’s due tomorrow, and you have a science test on Friday.” She knew better than he did about his due dates.

  “Okay.”

  When he didn’t say anything else, she left, and Benji decided his homework and shower could wait. There was something more important he had to do—his journal entry. He didn’t actually write in a diary. His entries were voice-recorded on his iPad.

  Benji had been forced to start journaling in fifth grade after a recommendation at a parent-teacher conference. Benji may benefit from daily self-reflection using his own words, the teacher had noted. He didn’t enjoy it at first, but the journal became a useful tool. A couple of times a week, he recapped the triumphs and struggles of his life. But the Benji Porter recorded on the iPad wasn’t real—not 100 percent real, anyway. It was a highly edited version of Benji Porter. A version that he hoped would make his parents happy.

  And while the journal was intended to be private, Benji knew his parents listened to it. His entries were uploaded to the cloud, which they could access—and did.

  But they didn’t know he knew.

  The secret to his success was finding the right balance. He couldn’t come across as perfect. They did know him, after all. He just had to appear to be a hardworking, motivated, and overall good son.

  October 26

  Today I went on a field trip to New York to the natural history museum. The teacher made me be partners with a boy named Felix. He’s shy and doesn’t have any friends. I was picked so he wouldn’t be lonely in New York. We saw about a hundred dinosaurs and watched an IMAX movie about Earth. At lunchtime, we went to Central Park. Felix found a wallet. It belonged to Laura Friendly. I convinced him to hand it over to the police.

  Benji had told his parents about the wallet already. But he hadn’t mentioned the missing twenty bucks then, and he wasn’t going to mention it now.

  After dinner, Dad and I played basketball. I need to be ready for tryouts in a few weeks. I really want to make the seventh-grade team.

  This was true. Benji did want to make the team. He needed to. Basketball was part of the Porter DNA. His dad had been a star player on his high school team, and Benji’s mom had gone to Syracuse University on a basketball scholarship. Benji was the size of a basketball player (there was some DNA!), but he lacked any natural skills.

  That’s about everything. I have a science test this week that I’ve been studying for a lot. Still, it’s going to be super hard.

  Oh, and Mom walked in on me when I was practically naked. I wish she’d knock.

  Over and out,

  Benji

  Felix

  After school, Felix and about thirty other kids stood in a semicircle waiting for their names to be called for a team. Six captains had already been selected—a position based on popularity, not skills. This wasn’t tryouts, which were still two weeks away. This was open gym, an opportunity just to play basketball.

  Felix listened as the usual players were picked. Then it was Benji Porter’s turn to select.

  “I’ll take my buddy, Felix.”

  Felix wasn’t sure if he’d heard correctly. Benji, who was always a captain, had never chosen him. He usually selected other big kids.

  “Interesting choice, Barney,” Aidan Rozman, another captain, said. “We’re going to destroy you.”

  Felix stepped forward, and Benji gave him a fist bump.

  The game began, and Felix played point guard—a position that allowed him to control the tempo. Within two minutes, he realized that Aidan’s team made mistakes when they played fast. So Felix pushed the ball up the court full-speed on every possession. He dribbled between his legs, passed behind his back, and moved side to side so quickly that the defender would slip. They didn’t keep score during open gym, but Felix knew they were up by double digits when they took a water break.

  As Felix drank from his bottle, Benji slapped him on the back.

  “Good game, buddy. I should pick you more often.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You haven’t found any wallets lately, have you? Or gotten any rewards?” Benji asked. Besides basketball, it was the only thing they had in common.

  Felix shook his head. Does he think I got a reward and I kept it for myself?

  “It’s been three days,” Benji continued. “How long does it take for someone to come up with a million-dollar prize?”

  Felix had been thinking a lot about the wallet (and a possible reward). Like last night when his mom said she didn’t have money for new sneakers as she dabbed superglue on his current pair where the rubber was pulling away at the bottom.

  He also thought he might be cursed because of the twenty. Bad things kept
happening—more than usual. Like he’d accidentally left his library book on the bus. When he asked the driver this morning if anyone had handed it in, she said no. He checked every seat. It was gone. He didn’t know how much it would cost to replace Refugee, but he knew he didn’t have the money.

  A whistle blew, and Felix took a last swig of water before running back to the court.

  In the second half, Felix scored eight points, all on fast breaks, and had a couple of assists. He was having a great game until he got the ball just beyond the free-throw line, wide open.

  “Shoot!” Benji yelled.

  Felix hesitated, looking to drive to the basket.

  “Shoot it!”

  Felix knew it was a bad idea—his range was limited. But he bent his knees, pulled the ball to his shoulder, and shot. He used every muscle from his toes to his neck to heave the ball up.

  He missed. Missed the rim. Missed the backboard. Missed everything.

  “Air ball!” Aidan yelled, and soon his entire team was chanting.

  “Lay off,” Benji said to Aidan.

  For the rest of the game, Felix didn’t attempt another shot. You don’t miss shots you don’t take.

  When the game was over, Felix pulled on his coat and put up the hood. As he left the gym, someone stepped on the back of his sneaker, making him trip and fly into the hallway. Instinctively, he threw out his arms to break his fall, and the fingers on his left hand bent backward.

  “Ow!” He didn’t mean to yell.

  “You should be more careful.” Aidan laughed and pushed his sweaty blond hair off his forehead. “Tryouts are coming up.”

  Felix rolled to his knees and kept his head down. He held his left hand to his chest.

  “You okay?” Benji squatted next to him.

  “Fine.” Felix slowly bent his fingers, testing if they were broken. He could move them, but doing so was painful, and heat radiated from the joints between his hand and fingers.

  “You need ice.” Benji pulled Felix up by his right elbow.

  “I said I’m fine.” He was sure the fall was more bad luck, and he was sure it was because of the stolen twenty.

  “Okay.” Benji let go of Felix’s arm.

  “Did you give the money back to Laura Friendly?” Felix asked, knowing the answer.

  “Nah. She doesn’t need it.”

  Felix looked at Benji’s new Jordans and thought Benji didn’t need the twenty either.

  “I’m serious. We need to pay her back. I’ll pay my half. I just don’t have any money right now. If you—”

  “This is stressing you out,” Benji interrupted, his head nodding as he spoke. “Come on. Follow me.” They walked to the front of the building and to the line of cars waiting to pick up students. Benji pulled open the passenger-side door of a white SUV.

  “Hey, Mom. Can I have twenty dollars?” Benji asked. “I owe Felix from the field trip.” He motioned to Felix with his thumb.

  “Hi, Felix. Nice to meet you.” She reached into her bag without asking any questions and gave Benji a twenty-dollar bill.

  “Thanks, Mom.” Then Benji turned to Felix. “Here ya go.”

  Felix hesitated. It all seemed too easy, Benji’s mom just pulling money from her wallet without a second thought. He tried to imagine a life where every dollar wasn’t set aside for groceries or rent or emergencies.

  “Better?” Benji asked.

  “I’m going to send this to Laura Friendly.”

  “Good.” Benji shrugged. “See ya.” He climbed into the SUV, and it pulled away.

  Felix didn’t know where to send the money and wished he’d paid more attention to the address on Laura Friendly’s license. Was it on the internet? Could you send cash in the mail? He’d figure it out. Things were going to get better.

  But then Georgie joined him on the sidewalk, still dressed in her uniform from Downtown Donuts.

  “The truck died. Again,” she said. “Michelle is at work, and so is Mom. We’re stuck here for at least an hour.”

  More bad luck. The twenty needed to be returned ASAP.

  Benji

  Benji stepped into social studies, and Mr. Platt sent him right back out.

  “You’re needed in the office.” This was not an unusual request. Benji had spent his share of time across the desk from the principal—mostly for interrupting. Sometimes a dull class just required an impromptu sing-along.

  When Benji walked through Mr. Palomino’s office door, he spotted his smiling parents first. Then he saw Felix. Then Laura Friendly!

  Reward time!

  Laura Friendly looked different from the pictures on the internet—older and tired. She had white-blond hair, a pointy nose, and an unhappy expression. She sat rigid in the principal’s chair, and a younger woman hovered behind her.

  “Looks like we’re all here,” Mr. Palomino said. “Ms. Friendly, would you like to begin?”

  “No.” Everyone waited quietly for her to say more. Finally, she gestured toward the other woman. “Tracey.”

  “Laura is very thankful that you returned her wallet. She is impressed by your kindness and civility.” Tracey focused on Felix and then Benji. “As a way of showing her gratitude, she is giving each of you a twenty-thousand-dollar college scholarship.”

  The short woman in maroon scrubs standing next to Felix shrieked and bounced around like a game show contestant. Then she hugged Felix, who was doing a perfect imitation of a garden gnome.

  “Friendly Connect is also donating ten thousand dollars’ worth of new technology to the school,” Tracey continued.

  “That’s very generous.” Mr. Palomino shook Laura Friendly’s hand. The adults all started talking and saying thanks and how wonderful it all was.

  A knock sounded on the door, and Ms. Hamilton, the front-desk lady, popped her head in.

  “News Thirteen and the Journal are here. We’re ready for the assembly.”

  “Thank you,” Mr. Palomino said. “I guess it’s showtime.”

  “What assembly?” Felix asked.

  “Laura will make a short speech,” Tracey answered. “Then she will hand you each your scholarship check. We had large cardboard checks made. We thought they’d be fun keepsakes.”

  Laura Friendly closed her eyes and groaned. None of this seemed to be her idea. For someone who’d spent twenty million funding time-travel research (Benji saw it in a YouTube video), this was probably a boring use of her money.

  “I’d like to talk to the boys alone,” she said.

  “Laura, we’re on a schedule.” Tracey’s smile finally disappeared.

  “I’ll be quick.”

  The other adults filed out of the room. As soon as the door closed, Laura Friendly stood up.

  “You found my wallet in the park?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Benji said, and Felix nodded.

  “And you turned it in to the authorities?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Benji said again.

  “But before honorably handing over my property, you stole twenty dollars.”

  Felix gasped like someone had hit him in the gut.

  “No.” Benji’s voice cracked.

  “I carry an emergency twenty dollars in my wallet,” she said. “My father gave me a twenty when I left for college and told me to never be without my own cash.”

  “Was it the same twenty?” Felix asked, and Benji felt guilty for the first time.

  “No, that was thirty years ago.” Her eyebrows squished into a V.

  “We took the money,” Felix said rapidly. “We were hungry. We bought hot dogs. I’m sorry.”

  “You stole from me,” she said.

  “No, we borrowed from you,” Benji said. “And we paid it back.”

  She crossed her arms. “Is that so?”

 
“Benji gave me the money to repay you.” Felix pulled a folded bill from his pocket. “I didn’t know where to send it.”

  “See, we’re paying you back.” Benji grabbed the twenty from Felix and tried to hand it to Laura Friendly, who refused to look at the money. “You don’t even want it. Because you don’t need it. Twenty bucks is like a penny to you. I wouldn’t care if some kids took a penny from me to buy lunch.”

  “A penny still has value,” she said.

  Benji shrugged. “Technically.”

  “If I gave you a penny and it magically doubled the next day, and those pennies doubled the next day, and so on, do you know how much you’d have in a month?” Laura Friendly asked.

  “You mean, like in thirty days? Or a short month like February?”

  She pulled off her glasses and glared at Benji. “Yes, thirty days.”

  “I know it’s a lot, but I need a calculator.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

  $0.01

  $0.02

  $0.04

  $0.08

  $0.16

  $0.32

  $0.64

  $1.28

  $2.56

  $5.12

  $10.24

  $20.48

  $40.96

  $81.92

  $163.84

  $327.68

  $655.36

  $1,310.72

  $2,621.44

  $5,242.88

  $10,485.76

  $20,971.52

  $41,943.04

  $83,886.08

  $167,772.16

  $335,544.32

  $671,088.64

  $1,342,177.28

  $2,684,354.56

  $5,368,709.12

  He gave her the answer.

  “A penny isn’t nothing. It can be the start of something big,” she said.