That day, one of them, a pretty girl with perfect curls, pointed at our stall and grinned. "Zane, I want the most expensive cotton candy. Buy it for me!"
Another girl chimed in; her voice playful. "Yeah, you can't just buy for her. We all want one!"
Zane chuckled awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable, but he approached our stall anyway. He bought five cotton candies—the most expensive ones, of course—and handed them to the girls. But when I went to give him his change, I realized I didn't have enough small bills.
Before I could say anything, Zane smiled and waved it off. "Don't worry about it. I'll get it from you next time."
Maybe it was the way he said it, the unexpected friendliness in his voice. The girls around him noticed too. Their playful giggles turned into jealous glares.
One of them, a snobbish girl named Jennifer, stormed over and kicked over our stall, yelling, "Stay away from him, you man-stealing fox!"