“Hey, Charity!” a voice calls. “You’ve got to see this.”
“Wow,” Tally says. “This is working better than I imagined.”
I turn and see Charity pushing through the crowd. Esmeralda is right behind her. The video switches back to Esmeralda, who begins her imitation of Tally. A couple of people in the audience laugh. They don’t know who she’s imitating, just that it’s funny. I glance over at Tally, but she shrugs. I grin. That’s the Tally I’m used to. The confident one who just shrugs things off.
Charity pushes to the front and spots Charlotte. “You!” she says.
“That’s right,” Charlotte says.
“But you—you—” I’ve never seen Charity so flustered before. She spins and looks at Esmeralda. “That was on your phone,” she says. “How did she get it?”
“I didn’t know you could do that either,” Blake says. “Turns out it’s not that hard.”
“Shut it,” Charity says to Blake. Then she turns to Charlotte. “Turn it off.”
Charlotte shakes her head.
“No way,” Tally says. Charity looks at Esmeralda, who actually seems amused by what’s happening. I spot the minions on the edge of the crowd. So does Charity.
“Please turn it off,” Charity says. Blake actually laughs out loud. Charity saying “please” indicates just how desperate she is. “Listen,” she hisses. “I know what’s in that video. Do you know what this will do to me?”
“Let’s see,” Tally says. “Out you as the Mean Queen in front of the whole town? Everyone already knows that.” She glances over at the minions, who are edging closer. “Of course maybe they’ve been okay with it since you’re mostly nice to them.” Tally shakes her head. “If they see this? You’ll lose them for sure.”
“I’ll do whatever you want,” Charity says. She’s seething, but she’s also desperate. It’s not a pretty combination. She looks over at the minions again. “Please,” she says. “They can’t know that I—”
“Why?” I ask. “Afraid you’ll lose your only friends?”
Charity glares at me.
“She doesn’t have friends,” Tally says. “She has people who she intimidates into spending time with her.”
“Tally,” I say. As much as I hate Charity, I don’t want to destroy her.
“Charity,” Tally says. “You could have friends. If you’d just stop being so horrible to everyone.”
Charity sneers at us. “Like I’d want friends like you losers.” The video switches to Charity, who starts her imitation of Tally.
Charity closes her eyes. She knows that next is her doing an extremely cruel imitation of one of the Lindseys. “I’ll do anything,” she says.
“Not good enough,” Tally says. She points at Esmeralda. “She has to do it, too.”
“She will,” Charity says.
“Oh no, I won’t,” Esmeralda says. She seems more amused than anything, watching Charity squirm. I guess she wasn’t lying about not really being friends with Charity. Charity stomps over to Esmeralda, grabs her arm, and whispers hard and fast at her. Esmeralda’s eyes get big. Whatever Charity is saying to her must be bad if it’s enough to ruffle her. Esmeralda narrows her eyes as Charity finishes threatening her. “You wouldn’t,” she says.
“Oh, I would,” Charity says.
“Would what?” Blake asks me.
“I don’t know,” I say. “But Charity must have something big over her.”
Esmeralda is furious with Charity, but she nods. Charity turns back toward us. “Okay,” she says. “We’ll do it. Now shut it off.”
Charlotte looks at Tally, who nods. The video goes dark and the crowd groans.
“Sorry, folks,” Tally says. “But you might want to start making your way over to the Pudding Plunge. We’ve got a real surprise for you.” Charity gasps. Esmeralda starts backing up, but Charity grabs her arm. Tally turns and looks at Charity and Esmeralda and smiles. Then she looks down at Esmeralda’s feet. “You might want to take those boots off. I’m guessing pudding doesn’t come out of suede very easily.”
* * *
Oddly enough, watching first Esmeralda (Charity made her go first so she wouldn’t chicken out) and then Charity jump into the pool of pudding was anticlimactic. The real victory was won in front of the Ice House. Seeing them both covered in chocolate goo was just the icing on the cake.
True to her word, Tally deleted the video as soon as Charity jumped. Of course we didn’t delete the video of their plunge. We knew we might want to watch that one again. And again.
“The weird thing is that this might have made Charity seem more human to a lot of people,” Marcus says, watching the crowd cheer as she pushes free of the pudding.
“Maybe this experience will make her nicer,” Tally says.
Charity glares at us as she passes and makes a vague threat about us not hearing the last of this.
“And maybe not,” Blake says.
“Either way a whole lot of people wanted to see the Hog Queen jump into pudding,” Tally says. “She earned the ARK over three hundred dollars.”
“What about Esmeralda?” I ask.
Blake shakes his head. “Other than the twenty bucks Marcus put in? Nothing.”
I smile at Marcus, who just shrugs. I think he’s going to need to find another new French tutor after this.
“Well,” Tally says to Charlotte. “I’m pretty sure your cover is blown.”
“Good,” Charlotte says. “I couldn’t stand being around them. All they talk about is their hair and whether they are getting fat and how many calories are in a serving of broccoli.”
“I can assure you that we rarely talk about hair. We couldn’t care less about who is fat and who isn’t. As for how many calories are in a serving of broccoli?” Tally shrugs.
“But I do know. They made me look it up,” Charlotte says.
“Well, don’t tell us,” Tally says.
After Charity and Esmeralda jump, we start working at the Pudding Plunge. Poppy is selling RPS Society and Pudding Plunge T-shirts. Blake’s mom is taking donations, and Tally and I are getting people to sign the waiver before they get in line. Blake and Marcus hand out towels to people after they’ve taken the plunge. Monica shows up with half a dozen dogs, which bring in the donations even faster.
The line to jump in pudding continues growing all morning, snaking around the block. Just before lunch the Hanson’s Construction guys gather to watch as their boss climbs the ladder. Apparently Dutch knows Jed Hanson from way back when, so he was able to convince him to take the plunge. The construction guys hoot and holler until finally Jed does a cannonball into the pudding, sending a shower of brown goo all over his men.
The Pudding Plunge slows down a little during lunch when they have to refill the pool. Gram tells us she and Dutch will mind the tables, letting us have some time to walk around. Charlotte goes to hang out with her family, leaving Blake, Tally, Marcus, and me. We spend the next hour wandering around the festival, looking at the crafts (Tally and me), eating more pancakes (Blake), and testing our skill at splitting wood (Marcus and almost Blake). Blake said he’d stick to competitive eating after watching Marcus split four logs in under ten seconds.
The art auction is busy every time we pass by. Miss Beans waves us down to tell us that every one of the sculptures has at least half a dozen bids on it. Tally’s dog is the highest so far. Someone wrote $300 at the bottom of the list of bids.
It starts snowing in earnest early in the afternoon, but rather than discourage people from jumping into pudding, it seems to have the opposite effect. It’s slammed all afternoon. People pay everything from five dollars to a hundred for the chance. By five o’clock there’s a layer of snow deep enough to cover my sneakers. Gram announces last call for anyone wanting to participate in the Pudding Plunge.
Tally grabs my arm. “Let’s do it,” she says.
“Jump in pudding?” I ask just to be sure of what the it is.
“It’ll be epic,” she says. I
make a face, imagining how cold it will be. “Come on,” she says. “When are you going to have another chance to jump into pudding?”
“She does have a point,” Blake says. “Of course the T-shirts do read FIRST ANNUAL PUDDING PLUNGE, indicating that there will, in fact, be another opportunity.”
“Why don’t you do it?” I ask Blake.
He shakes his head. “Lactose intolerant.”
Tally frowns at him. “Since when?”
Blake backs away.
“What about you?” I ask Marcus.
“Chocolate allergy,” Marcus says. I think about all of the chocolate cupcakes he’s eaten over the last few months. Marcus gives me a big smile and joins Blake at the snack table. Tally looks at me hopefully.
“Fine,” I say.
“Yay!” Tally says, jumping up and down. She drags me to where Gram is calling out, “Last, last call.”
“I guess we’re jumping,” I tell Gram. She smiles and shakes her head. But she doesn’t seem surprised.
“Do you want to go first?” Tally asks.
I nod. I figure I better go before I chicken out. I climb the ladder up to the platform and walk out until I’m over the pudding. Snow has started to build up on top of the brown goo, making it look almost pretty.
“Go, Penny!” Marcus yells.
I take a big breath, close my eyes, and pinch my nose. Then I jump, tucking my knees up into my chest. When I hit, it’s more of a sploosh than a splash. And I’m under. I straighten my legs. I can just touch the bottom with the tips of my sneakers. I push my head free of the pudding and take a breath. I try to wipe the pudding from my eyes, but my hands are covered, making it impossible.
“Penny!” Blake yells. “Just walk straight forward.”
I step out, holding my hands in front of myself, just as I’ve watched everyone else do. I touch the side and feel a towel being pressed into my hands. I wipe my eyes first and start making my way toward the exit ladder. I climb out, shedding clumps of pudding from me with each step. I squeeze about a gallon of it back into the pool from my ponytail alone. I walk down the steps still wiping pudding from my eyes and my nose and my ears. My feet hit the snow just as I hear a loud sploosh behind me. I turn in time to see Tally disappearing under the pudding.
Marcus wraps a towel around me and leads me over to the heaters they have set up off to the side. “How was it?” he asks.
“Cold,” I say, shivering. “And gross.” I look down at myself. My clothes are heavy with pudding. Even my shoes feel full of the brown goo. “I think this beats your chum shower,” I say. “Well, except for the smell.”
Marcus nods. “That is a significant difference,” he says. Then he bends and brushes his lips against mine. And everything falls away. All I can see is Marcus. No pudding. No snow. No crowds. And I think, Yes! This is my perfect moment in time. Covered in pudding and standing in ankle-deep snow, while crowds of people swirl around us. Marcus straightens and looks at me. He wipes a blob of pudding off of the corner of his mouth and smiles.
“Oh. My. God!” Tally says, sloshing over to me. “That was awesome!” She rubs her arms, sending blobs of pudding raining down onto the ground around her. I keep looking at Marcus, who keeps looking at me. But Tally is too excited to notice that we’re not saying anything. Gram and Dutch walk over to where we are. I notice they are holding hands, but I pretend not to.
“Thank you,” Tally says to them. “I’d hug you, but—”
“Maybe later,” Gram says, putting up her hand. Knowing Tally, she might actually hug someone. “Besides, it was surprisingly really fun.”
“Next year let’s do pistachio pudding,” Blake says. “Or tapioca.” I make a face. Chocolate pudding is bad enough. I’m not sure I want squishy blobs of tapioca sliding down my shirt. I shiver at the thought of it.
Gram sees me shiver and grabs the edge of my towel. “Come on, you two. Let’s see if we can dig up some clean clothes for you before the fireworks start.”
Clean clothes end up being RPS Society T-shirts and Hanson’s Construction coveralls. “Maybe next time you can plan ahead and bring some extra clothes with you,” Gram says.
I shake my head, thinking there’s no next time. One pudding plunge is plenty. But I see Tally nodding and grinning and can’t help thinking she has other plans.
Finally mostly wiped free of pudding, sort of dry, and fairly warm, we walk out onto the lawn to wait with everyone else for the fireworks. Dutch returns from helping Monica load the dogs into her car. She thought the loud noises might scare them. My mom comes over. She looks tired, but happy. She shakes her head when she sees me, but she’s smiling. She puts her arm around me and sniffs my hair.
“I’m not sure if I prefer this or the maple syrup,” she says. “Did you have a good day?”
I grin. Pancakes, revenge, pudding, kissing? “One of the best days ever,” I say.
“So,” Mom says. “Your dad called again.”
“Oh,” I say.
“He asked if he could come here for a day or two around Christmas. I told him that I was fine with it, but that he needed to ask you.”
“I’d like to see him,” I say hesitantly. I do want to see him, but I want him to do the work. No more I’m sorry or Things will be different next time. If he wants to see me, he can come here. After that? Well, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.
“Your dad could stay at the Maple Inn,” Mom suggests.
I laugh thinking about him staying there. It’s a great inn. It’s really pretty and the food is supposed to be awesome. The only problem is the owner. Mrs. McTavish. Well, not her exactly. It’s her cats. She has seventeen of them. She actually had to get a town permit allowing her to have them all. Tally told me Monica visits her every couple of months to make sure they are being well cared for. Apparently they are all happy, but Monica did cut her off. She’s allowed to visit the ARK and play with the cats any time she likes. She’s just not allowed to adopt any more.
“There’s no hurry about talking to your dad,” Mom says. “Just think about it.” Mom gives me one more squeeze and then walks over to stand with Poppy, who looks tired, but happy. All of the drama around Tally and the adoption must be hard on everyone.
Marcus and Blake return with cups of hot cider for everyone. Tally shivers and looks hopefully at Blake, who takes off his coat and hands it to her.
It’s the first time I’ve seen his shirt. THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IN LIFE IS TO BE YOURSELF. UNLESS YOU CAN BE BATMAN. ALWAYS BE BATMAN. I raise my eyebrows.
“I know,” Blake says, seeing me looking at his shirt. “It’s lame, but it’s the last one.”
“Thank goodness,” Tally says.
“But hey, great news,” he says, grinning at us. “I bought another dozen. So the good times are going to keep rolling into the New Year.”
“Awesome,” I say.
“I know,” Blake says, smiling at me and then at Tally. “I know.”
There’s a loud boom and a streak of silver, and then a huge flower made up of silver and blue sparks blooms over our heads. Marcus slides his hand into mine. It’s warm against my cold skin. There are more booms, one right after another until a huge bouquet of flowers in all different colors fills the sky. I have to keep blinking to keep the snow, which has started falling again even harder, out of my eyes.
All too soon it’s over. We start making our way through the park and toward home. There’s a last-minute flurry of activity around the craft stalls as people buy a few more presents. We pass the bank, which is just closing its doors, and I wonder how much money the auction raised. The Ice House is lit up with lights that change from pink to blue and back again. Hanson’s has already started draining the pool. And I wonder if chocolate pudding is considered toxic waste.
We all walk toward home, following the crowds of people returning to their cars or walking toward their own houses. Tally starts teasing Dutch about his promise to consider adopting a pet.
“I’ll have you kno
w,” he says, “I have already made my selection. I’m just waiting on the go-ahead from the vet.”
“Which one did you pick?” Tally asks. “I’ll bet it was Rufus.” I’m not sure whether Rufus is the Irish setter or the Great Dane. It turns out it doesn’t matter because Dutch is shaking his head. “Goldie?” Tally asks. Another shake. She frowns, thinking. But then she gives up.
“I’ll give you a hint,” he says. “I had to order specialty seed for him.”
Tally’s eyes get big. “Him? Seed? Seriously? That is so awesome!” She turns and smiles at me, actually walking backward down the sidewalk. “Isn’t that awesome?”
Seed means it’s one of the birds. And if it’s specialty seed, it’s not one of the parakeets. It’s not Poe or Snowball. They’re both female. Then it hits me. “You’re adopting Churchill?” I ask.
Dutch nods. “I told you I go in for the hard cases.”
“Thank you,” I say. I feel tears welling up in my eyes. Tally spins in a circle, almost falling on the snowy sidewalk. Blake grabs her arm to keep her upright.
We all walk to the bridge that will take us toward the beach. The snow is starting to drift on the sand and the waves are silver in the moonlight. “I’ve got chili and corn bread in thirty minutes for anyone who wants it,” Gram says.
Tally looks at Poppy, who nods. “Maybe I should go shower,” Tally says. She hugs Blake and then me and then Dutch for good measure before taking Poppy’s hand. They walk toward home hand in hand.
Blake’s mom smiles. “Chili sounds perfect,” she says.
“Well, come on,” Gram says. She and Dutch head toward the house, followed by Blake’s mom and mine. That leaves Marcus, me, and Blake.
Blake looks from Marcus to me and then makes a face. “Well, this is awkward,” he says. “I think I’ll just—” Then he turns and jogs away, heading up the hill toward Gram’s house.
“I’ll go get my dad,” Marcus says. He squeezes my hand and starts to let go.
“Wait,” I say. He looks at me. Then I do something that I wouldn’t have imagined doing in a million years. I kiss him. I have to stand on my tiptoes to reach. It’s fast and I might have actually missed his mouth a tiny bit, but it was a kiss. I step back and bite my lip. Marcus grins at me, which I take to be a good sign. I give his hand one last squeeze and then run after Blake.
Frosted Kisses Page 20
