(Matilda's POV):
After five minutes, we've gone through all of the Wonka bars except for one; the last of the two Nut-a-rifics I gave to Charlie to give to his grandmas.
"Let's open them."
"Are you sure?" I ask him.
He nods.
"A golden ticket is worth more than all the Wonka bars in the world."
"You open it," I tell him.
"No, you do it. It's your bar."
"No, I gave it to you."
"But-"
I groan.
"How about we open it together?"
I place the newspaper underneath.
"Here. You take one end and I'll get the other."
We prepare to open the bar.
"Wait," Charlie exclaims in a hushed whisper.
"If we find the ticket, only one of us can go. What then?"
"Easy. You take the ticket," I say.
He shakes his head.
"No, you take it. I know you want to meet Mr. Wonka more than anything."
"You deserve it more," I argue.
"You love chocolate and you only get a bar a year for your birthday."
"I can wait until next year. Everything's better when it's a rarity anyway."
"But you at least have people who support you in your love for Wonka," I remind him.
"If my mom found me with the ticket, I bet she'd rip it to pieces in front of me. I don't want it to go to waste."
There's no way I'm changing my mind. Charlie deserves this more than I do. He sighs in defeat.
"Alright. I'll go. And I promise I'll tell Mr. Wonka about you."
"You don't have to."
"You know I want to."
I smile at him.
"On three. For a chance to visit our idol," I whisper excitedly.
"One."
"Two."
"Three!"
We tear the wrapper off. That's when my heart drops. Not even the tiniest sign of gold anywhere.
"Well," Charlie sighs.
"I guess that's that."
He looks down at the ground and I can see a small tear fall down his eye. I know the prize means a lot to him. The poor kid's down on his luck; his father's lost his job. He gets picked on at school. He's too skinny to be healthy. I slide over next to him and wrap my arm around him.
"Hey," I say reassuringly.
"It's not over yet, Charlie. We've still got more chances."
"No, Matilda," he says in a hushed whisper, shaking his head.
"YOU still have more chances. I'm out of the game."
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't you get it? Out of all of us Wonkarers, I'm the one with the worst chances at finding that last ticket. I mean, yeah, I want it more than anything else, but just hoping never gets you anywhere. You've gotta work for a dream to make it come true, but I don't have the resources. I don't have a lot of money. This means I'm out."
"Charlie-"
"Don't act like it's not true," his voice chokes a little.
He takes a moment to try to recollect himself. At that moment, I remember the other thing I managed to catch. I hand him the dollar bill.
"Here," I tell him.
"You're not out of the game yet, golden boy."
"Well, even then it wouldn't guarantee anything."
"But it's still a chance. We should be getting home soon. I suppose we've been here for hours."
At this he gives me a small sad smile.
"You're a wonder, Matilda."
He stands up and helps me collect my stuff.
"Maybe you should call the police," he tells me.
At this I suddenly remember why we even came here in the first place.
"Oh yeah. I probably should."
I hand him the basket with the opened Wonka bars and place the other Nut-a-rific inside.
"Tell your Grandmas I send my regards."
"I will."
All of a sudden, he pulls me into a hug. I feel like my whole stomach is bouncing around. Gently I hug him back.
"I'll see you tomorrow, wonderspark."
"Wonderspark?"
"You called me golden boy. Why shouldn't you have a nickname as well?"
"Sure. But why Wonderspark?"
"Because you always have a spark of wonder inside of you."
I blush a little at this.
"Thanks."
"Anytime."
"See you tomorrow, golden boy," I tell him.
He smiles and then runs off. I double check to make sure I have everything.
"See you tomorrow, golden boy," I repeat to myself as I walk home.
The phrase itself is sweeter than any candy I've ever tasted.