Ghouls Just Want to Have Fun (25 page)

"I guess I'm not as bad as I thought," Joe said. "All I ever did was talk. You climbed a tree and became a Peeping Tom. A voyeur. I'm not anywhere near that far gone."

I gave a fake smile. "I'm so glad I could make you feel better," I told the old character.

"Shush! Shush! They're getting ready to announce the winners!" Gram said, and we all got to our feet.

"And this year's homecoming king and queen are: Shelby Lynne Sawyer and Tom Murphy!"

Gram and I looked at each other, totally stunned by the loudspeaker's proclamation, and put up a whoop and a holler and hugged each other, dancing a little celebratory jig.

"I can't believe they won!" I clapped, looking through blurred eyes as Shelby Lynne went forward to accept her crown and bouquet of roses. "I can't believe it! I'm so happy for them both!"

I looked over at Joe and caught him wiping his eyes. I smiled. Sentimental old sap.

After the formalities were over and things had settled down a bit, Gram grabbed her purse. "I'm going down to congratulate her!" she said. "You comin', Tressa?"

I shook my head. "You go on," I said. "And give her this." I handed Gram a single yellow rose. "She'll know who it's from," I added.

"Oh, if you would, dear, visit the concession stand and bring me back one of them walkin' tacos and a pop," Gram said. "I'm feeling like I need some fornication."

I looked at her. "I think you mean fortification, Gram," I said.

She took Joe's arm and gave me a wink. "That's what you think, sister," she said. "That's what you think."

I blinked. Oh, buddy, things were heatin' up in Gramville.

"Talk about underdogs making a comeback. This is one for the record books." Rick Townsend slid in beside me. "Hope that holds true for the second half," he said. "It'd be nice to have a win," he added.

I smiled. "We already won," I said.

Townsend nodded. "I see that. Pretty amazing. Maybe looks and popularity don't count for as much as everyone thinks. We could be looking at a new trend. And that's a good thing, I'm thinking."

I looked over at the guy who'd been crowned homecoming king the year he'd graduated.

"You really think things are changing?" I asked. "Less focus on the outer person and more on the inner?" I wasn't sure whether I should be pleased or petrified.

"By the victory we've just witnessed, it appears likely. Nice to see folks having such a good time," he said and I followed the path of his gaze. He was watching his granddad get his picture taken with Shelby Lynne, Tom and my grandma. A smiling group, they locked arms and hammed it up for the camera.

"Uh, you know that little talk I was supposed to have with my gramma, Townsend?" I asked. "Well, you see--"

Townsend put out a hand and covered my mouth with his fingers.

"Forget it, Turner," he said. "I get the distinct impression that even the legendary Calamity Jayne, equipped with a magic lasso and mounted on the grand champion cattle-roping horse five years running, couldn't separate those two." He removed his hand and motioned at my gramma and his pops.

"I'm sorry, Townsend," I said. "But the way I look at it, they've earned the right to live their lives the way they choose. With adult supervision, of course," I added.

"Are you volunteering for duty?" Townsend asked. "It could be a full-time job keeping those two out of trouble, you know," he pointed out.

I looked over to see Shelby Lynne pick up Tom Murphy and hold him in her arms as Smitty, who was covering the event for the
Gazette,
took snapshots of the reigning king and queen. Gram and Joe were nearby snapping off shots, pointing and laughing.

I shrugged. "What's one more job when you have three?" I asked. "And never let it be said that Tressa Turner ever got in the way of true love," I added. Seeing Townsend's sudden, intense look settle on my face, I wished those words back in a heartbeat. He reached out and touched my cheek.

"So, Cupid, do you have any plans for after the game?" Townsend asked.

"Why? Did you have something special in mind?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light and casual when in reality my innards were dancing around like the Grandville fight song was being performed in my gut.

He raised his eyebrows. "A bunch of us are driving to Des Moines to take in a couple of Halloween haunted houses for kicks, and then we'll probably grab some breakfast. You game?"

"That depends," I said.

"On what?"

"Is there a full moon tonight?" I asked, dead serious.

Townsend smiled. "I sure hope so. It'll give me an excuse to bite that neck of yours," he said. "Like I wanted to during the apple race," he added.

I felt my cheeks grow warm. Yeah. I still blush.

"You in?"

I thought about it. I'd survived the night in an honest-to-ghoul haunted house with a real corpse laid out. I figured I could handle one where I knew the poltergeists were paid and the bodies were props.

"Sounds fun," I said. "Can Shelby Lynne and Tom tag along?" I asked, thinking it was better to be safe than sorry, just in case Townsend was serious about the neck-biting. Or, maybe, in case he wasn't.

Townsend grinned. "The more the scarier," he said.

"Great!" I excused myself to get Gram's goodies and left Townsend to save our seats.

I was ten-seventy-six (ten code for "en route") to fetch the food when the catty tones of a certain "shoo-in" queen candidate-type reached me, echoing my earlier sentiments on the voting results but with an altogether different--and disparaging--take.

"I cannot
believe
Sasquatch and that pipsqueak won!" Kylie Danae Radcliffe (aka, the loser) squawked. "I'm sure there has to be some mistake. That's the only way that Amazonian ape and measly midget could have beat me."

Ouch! Make that
sore
loser!

"I'm going to force a recount. For sure, my mother will demand one," Little Miss Perfect snarled. "And now that that knuckle-dragging nerd teamed up with that train wreck of a reporter from the
Gazette
and got lucky, she'll be the talk of the town for the rest of the year."

Train wreck? This was getting personal.

I followed Kylie and her companion for a few steps before I accidentally trod on the back of her stiletto-clad heel. Kylie whipped around, a scowl on her face that only partially faded when she recognized me.

"Uh, sorry, Kylie," I said. "About the heel and the queen thing. But I'm really glad I ran into you, because I have a question that I think many Grandville High School students and our local residents would be interested in having you answer."

She hesitated, a spark of interest--perhaps at receiving additional local PR--apparent in the sudden glint of her eye. "Yes? What question would that be?"

"Whether being such a rude, nasty, insulting loser comes naturally, or do you, like, have to practice?" Kylie Danae's mouth fell open. "On second thought," I said, stepping past her, "forget it. You're old news."

I was in line at the concession stand once again, waiting my turn, when someone reached out and took my left hand.

"Barbie ain't wearin' her ring." I turned, and Manny was standing there looking down at my finger.

"It's at home. In a safe place," I replied. "By the way, that's not a real diamond, is it?"

"Could be," he said.

"How's your aunt?" I asked. "Is she feeling better?"

Manny nodded. "She's around. They released her this morning. Ahnt Mo never misses a homecoming game."

"She's here?"

He nodded again.

"Barbie sees Ahnt Mo, Barbie keeps her left hand in her pocket," he instructed.

"About that...," I started. "Now that she's better, don't you think you'd better tell her the truth? About us, I mean? After all, she still thinks we're engaged. That could get a tad... awkward, in a small town like this."

Manny shook his head. "Too soon. Shock could kill her," he said. "Give her some time to get her strength back, and we'll see then. Oh, hey, Mick."

A young man appeared next to Manny. I blinked, thinking I was seeing double. No more than seventeen, the kid was nearly as tall as Manny, although he still had to go some before he had Manny's muscle mass.

"This is Manny's cousin Mick," Manny said, and Mick nodded.

"Yo," Mick said.

"This is Tressa," Manny said, and all of a sudden I saw a lot more of the whites of Mick's eyes.

"This is Tressa?" Before I knew it, Mick had picked me up and whirled me around three times. I was thinkin' he'd better stop, or I'd embarrass myself all over him with those two walking tacos I'd consumed. "Wow. Cool meetin' you, Tressa!" Mick said.

"Mick here did a little bit of campaigning for your underdogs today," Manny said.

"Huh?"

"It wasn't nothin', coz," Mick said. "I just did a little pressin' flesh, if you know what I mean, asking people to vote for Murph and Sawyer. No big deal, homey."

I looked at Manny. "You asked Mick here to, uh, campaign for Shelby Lynne and Tom?" I asked. "I'm touched, Manny. Really touched."

Manny smiled briefly, and I was again struck by the whiteness of his teeth and the curve of his lips.

"Consider it an engagement gift," he said.

"There they are! There they are! Manny! Mick! Auntie Mo's been lookin' all over for you. Aunt Mo's seen royalty crowned, and she's ready to go home to her warm bed."

I looked up and saw Manny's great-aunt Mo, looking pretty darned spry for someone who had been knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door the day before, making her way in our direction. I found myself slipping my left hand in my hoodie pocket.

"Tressa? Is that you? Is that Tressa, Manny? Oh my goodness. It is. Hello again, Tressa." She stopped and looked at me. "Did you do something with your face?" she asked. "You didn't have Botox, did you?"

I shook my head.

"Never mind that. You two give each other a big kiss for Auntie Mo. Come on now."

I swear to God, I was going to tell Auntie Mo the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth right then and there, really I was, but then I thought about Shelby Lynne's happy face and Tom Thumb's broad smile, and somehow my eyes were looking at Manny's mouth again, and before I knew it, I'd reached up on my tippy, tippy, tippy toes and planted a kiss on one very surprised homey.

What can I say, guys?

The devil made me do it.