IT WAS FRIDAY AFTERNOON, the end of the school week, the start of the weekend, and everybody was laughing and running home as quickly as they could, delighted to be free. Except a certain miserable foursome who hung around the schoolyard, looking like the end of the world had arrived. Their names? Steve Leonard, Tommy Jones, Alan Morris, and me, Darren Shan.
"It's not fair," Alan moaned. "Who ever heard of a circus only letting you buy two tickets? It's stupid!"
We all agreed with him, but there was nothing we could do about it but stand around kicking the ground with our feet, looking bummed out.
Finally, Alan asked the question that was on everybody's mind.
"So, who gets the tickets?"
We looked at each other and shook our heads uncertainly.
"Well, Steve has to get one," I said. "He put in more money than the rest of us, and he went to buy them, so he has to get one, agreed?"
"Agreed," Tommy said.
"Agreed," Alan said. I think he would have argued about it, except he knew he wouldn't win.
Steve smiled and took one of the tickets. "Who goes with me?" he asked.
"I brought in the flyer," Alan said quickly.
"Forget that!" I told him. "Steve should get to choose."
"Not on your life!" Tommy laughed. "You're his best friend. If we let him pick, he'll pick you. I say we fight for it. I have boxing gloves at home."
"No way!" Alan squeaked. He's small and never gets into fights.
"I don't want to fight either," I said. I'm no coward but I knew I wouldn't stand a chance against Tommy. His dad taught him how to box and they have their own punching bag. He would have floored me in the first round.
"Let's pick straws for it," I said, but Tommy didn't want to. He has terrible luck and never wins anything like that.
We argued about it a bit more, until Steve came up with an idea. "I know what to do," he said, opening his school bag. He tore two sheets of paper out of a notebook and, using his ruler, carefully cut them into small pieces, each one roughly the same size as the ticket. Then he got his empty lunch bag and dumped the paper inside.
"Here's how it works," he said, holding up the second ticket. "I put this in, squeeze the bag shut, and shake it around, okay?" We nodded. "You stand side by side and I'll throw the pieces of paper over your heads. Whoever gets the ticket wins. Me and the winner will give the other two their money back when we can afford it. Is that fair enough, or does somebody have a better idea?"
"Sounds good to me," I said.
"I don't know," Alan grumbled. "I'm the youngest. I can't jump as high as..."
"Quit yapping," Tommy said. "I'm the smallest, and I don't mind. Besides, the ticket might come out on the bottom of the pile, float down low, and be in just the right place for the shortest person.
"All right," Alan said. "But no shoving."
"Agreed," I said. "No rough stuff."
"Agreed." Tommy nodded.