by Jo Gibson
Kevin carried his Snapple over to the table and sat down. “Okay. I’m ready. Which ones do we count first?”
“The green ones.” Colleen pushed the vote box over to Kevin. “You can separate them as we go. Just pull out a heart and read the name inside.”
Amy reached out to touch Kevin’s arm. “Hold it a second, Kevin. Before we get started, I just want to tell you that I think the team ribbons for Tanya are very nice.”
“You do?” Kevin looked shocked. “I thought you didn’t like Tanya.”
Amy struggled for words. It was difficult to explain how she’d felt about Tanya. “I guess that’s true, in a way. I didn’t really like her. But she was in some of my classes, and I feel bad about what happened to her. And since she was the head cheerleader, I think the team ought to do something to show their respect.”
“That’s what I thought. Thanks, Amy.” Kevin picked a green heart out of the box. “Shall we start? This one’s for Brett.”
Colleen took the heart from Kevin and nodded. “Right. Chalk up one vote for Brett.”
“And this one’s for . . . Brett again.” Kevin handed the heart to Colleen, who verified it.
Five minutes later, they were preparing to count the last vote for king. There had been a few lone votes for other guys, but Brett had received ninety percent of today’s vote.
“I wonder if we should bother to open this one.” Kevin grinned as he held up the last green heart. “I think I already know how this is going to turn out.”
Amy nodded. “Me, too. And that’s what Gail said when she told us she wouldn’t be here. She knew Brett would get the most votes for king.”
“Was she talking about king . . . or queen?” Kevin raised his eyebrows.
“King. At least I think she meant king. How could she know who’d get the most votes for queen?”
“Because Brett’s voting for her now. And he told me that they’re going to the Valentine’s Day Dance together.”
“Oh. I see.” Amy tried not to show how disappointed she was. She’d known that Gail was moving in on Brett, but she hadn’t expected it to happen quite so fast. “Shall we count the votes for queen now?”
One by one, the red hearts were unfolded and counted, and Gail’s total grew steadily. She had received nineteen votes out of the first twenty.
“You were right, Kevin.” Colleen glanced at Amy’s tally sheet. “It looks like Gail is going to get most of the votes today.”
Kevin nodded. “Most . . . but not all. Here’s one for you, Amy.”
“For me?” Amy’s face mirrored her surprise. “I know we’re not really supposed to do this, but do you recognize the writing?”
“It’s printed.”
Kevin handed the heart to Colleen, who nodded. “It’s just like last Friday, Amy. I think it’s the same printing, but it’s hard to tell.”
“I wish I could figure out who was voting for me.” Amy looked wistful.
“Why?” Kevin stared at Amy. “What possible difference does it make?”
“Because I’d really like to have a date for the Valentine’s Day Dance. And the person I was planning to ask is already going with someone else. If I knew who was voting for me, I’d ask him instead.”
Seven
It was one-thirty in the afternoon, and Tanya’s funeral started at two. Mr. Dorman had excused the whole Senior class at lunchtime, so that they could go home and dress for the funeral. Since school was over at three, and the funeral would last for at least an hour, they weren’t expected to come back to school until the following morning.
Amy shivered a little as she walked down the street toward the Porter Fine Furniture Store, where she was to meet Jessica, Michele, and Colleen. She’d borrowed her mother’s trench coat, which wasn’t very warm, but her bright pink flowered parka had seemed inappropriate for such a somber occasion.
“Amy! Wait up!”
Amy turned and began to smile. Colleen had never been very athletic, but she was running as fast as she could, her long black dress coat flapping behind her like the tail of some gigantic crow.
“I’m glad I caught you!” Colleen was panting as she arrived at Amy’s side. “Your mom said you’d just left, and there’s been a change of plans. Danny’s taking us.”
“Danny’s going to Tanya’s funeral?”
Colleen nodded proudly. “I talked him into it.”
“You’re kidding!” Amy was totally surprised. “When I asked Danny if he was going, he told me that he hates funerals. And he swore that he was never going to another one . . . except for his own.”
“I know. He always says that. I must have heard it a million times by now. Come on. We’re all meeting at the Hungry Burger. We’ll leave from there.”
Amy nodded, and started to walk again, in step with Colleen. The Hungry Burger was only a block and a half away, so they didn’t have far to go. “Tell me, Colleen. How did you get Danny to change his mind?”
“I explained that since Tanya had been his classmate, it was his duty to attend her funeral.”
“An appeal to his social obligations . . . that’s good.” Amy nodded. “What else?”
“I said it might seem like an insult to Tanya’s parents if he was the only member of the Senior class who didn’t show up.”
“Application of peer pressure, and a concern for the emotional well-being of others . . . that’s good, too. What else?”
“I told him that we really wanted to go, but it was too far to walk and he was our only hope.”
“An appeal to his vanity by admitting that he was the only person who had the power to rescue us. Very good, Colleen. What else?”
Colleen frowned. “What makes you think there was anything else?”
“I know Danny. He wouldn’t have bought any of those other arguments. There was something else, wasn’t there? Something you’re not telling me?”
“Well . . . yes.” Colleen nodded. “But it’s really not worth mentioning.”
“I think you’d better tell me.”
“Oh . . . all right.” Colleen sighed deeply. “I promised him that we’d do his laundry and iron his shirts for the next four weeks.”
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together to say our earthly good-byes to Tanya Rachael Ellison, beloved daughter of Virginia and Spencer Ellison.”
The minister intoned the familiar words, and Amy shuddered. She could understand why Danny hated funerals. They were sad and depressing, and the funeral service reminded Amy that death was inevitable.
“Are you okay?”
Danny leaned close to whisper in Amy’s ear, and she nodded. The other girls were sitting near the front of the church, but Amy had waited for Danny to find a parking spot, and when he’d returned to the church on foot, they’d taken a pew in the rear. Amy felt a tap on her arm, and she turned to see that Danny was holding out his handkerchief.
“Thanks, but I’m not crying.” Amy leaned over to whisper in his ear.
Danny reached out with the white linen square and gently blotted her cheeks. When he pulled his handkerchief away, Amy was amazed to see that it was wet with tears.
“But . . . I didn’t know I was crying.” Amy was embarrassed.
“It’s okay.” Danny reached out to squeeze her hand. “I’ve got tears in my eyes, too . . . and I hardly knew Tanya. That’s the reason I don’t like funerals.”
Amy nodded. Danny was still holding her hand, and she didn’t even think of pulling away. It felt warm, and friendly, and very comforting. He held her hand through the rest of the service, and he didn’t let it go until the minister had spoken his final words and the formal church service had ended.
The pallbearers, dressed in somber black suits, walked to the front of the church and surrounded Tanya’s casket. The organ was playing softly, and Amy leaned close to Danny again to speak softly in his ear. “Did Colleen tell you that we’re trying to spot Tanya’s mystery boyfriend?”
“She told me. That’s why I picked a spot
in the back of the church. I’ve been here before, and the ushers always let the people in the front go out first. We’ll be able to see their faces when they pass us.”
“Good thinking.” Amy nodded, and then she reacted to the rest of what Danny had said. “You’ve been in this church before ?”
Danny nodded. “Yeah. I dated the former minister’s daughter. She used to drag me to service every Sunday to hear her father preach. I think she was trying to reform me, but it didn’t work.”
“I see.” Amy nodded and stifled a grin. Everyone should have known that Danny couldn’t be reformed. She glanced at the front of the church again, and she realized that the pallbearers were lifting Tanya’s casket. “What are they doing?”
“They’re carrying the casket out to the hearse. Then they’ll drive it to the cemetery.”
Amy nodded. She watched as the pallbearers picked up the casket and carried it slowly down the middle aisle of the church. When the casket passed their pew, Amy shuddered. She was glad that they’d closed it and she couldn’t see Tanya, but she had an almost overwhelming urge to jump to her feet and open the casket so that Tanya could breathe.
“Easy, Amy.” Danny slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Tanya’s not in there. It’s just her body.”
“I know, but . . .” Amy stopped in mid-sentence. She was very embarrassed about her irrational reaction to the closed casket.
“You wanted to lift the lid, so she could breathe?”
Amy nodded. It seemed almost as if Danny had read her mind. “That’s exactly how I felt. But how did you know?”
“I felt the same way, the first time I went to a funeral. Maybe we’d better not go to the cemetery.”
Amy thought about it for a second, and then she shook her head. “No. We have to go. It’s expected.”
“Okay.” Danny nodded. “The ushers are up in front now. We’d better watch.”
Amy blinked back a fresh rush of tears as Tanya’s parents stood up. Mrs. Ellison was weeping softly, and Tanya’s father looked pale and strained. They started down the center aisle, and Amy was faced with another quandary. She wanted to acknowledge them somehow, but was it appropriate to smile at a funeral?
“What can I do?” Amy poked Danny.
“Nod as they pass you. Just let them know that you’re here and you care. A smile wouldn’t really be wrong, but it wouldn’t be exactly right, either.”
Amy nodded as the Ellisons passed her. And then she turned to look at Danny. He’d done it again. He’d read her mind about whether she should smile or not.
Brett and Gail were ushered out next, and Amy frowned as they passed her. Brett’s eyes were red, and she could tell he’d been crying, but Gail looked perfectly composed. Her arm was tucked through Brett’s, and she looked stunning in a light blue wool dress with tiny diamond earrings. Amy wasn’t sure if she was imagining it or not, but Gail’s eyes appeared to sparkle, and she seemed almost happy as she walked down the aisle with Brett. It reminded Amy of the weddings she’d seen, and how radiant the bride had been as she’d walked down the aisle with her new husband. After they’d passed, Danny leaned close and whispered, “Gail looks like she’s practicing for her wedding.”
Amy didn’t say anything. She just chalked another point up for Danny. He’d read her mind again.
Although Amy and Danny watched every guy who was ushered down the aisle, there was no one who looked like he could have been Tanya’s mystery boyfriend. It was the same at the graveside. They knew most of the mourners, and there weren’t any likely candidates.
Amy was shivering by the time they’d all piled into Danny’s parents’ station wagon again. The wind had begun to blow, and she’d nearly frozen, waiting for the minister to finish his prayers. “Maybe I was so cold, I didn’t notice, but I didn’t see any mystery boyfriends.”
“Me, neither.” Danny reached out to pat Amy’s shoulder. “Cheer up, Amy. At least there wasn’t a fight.”
Michele laughed from the backseat, where she was riding with Colleen and Jessica. “There wouldn’t have been one anyway. Gail was hanging on to Brett’s arm so hard, he couldn’t even move.”
“You didn’t see them in the car.” Colleen spoke up. “I don’t think Brett’s heater works.”
“Why not?” Michele sounded curious.
“Because they were huddling so close together, you couldn’t have pried them apart with a crowbar.”
Amy winced. She really wanted to say something about how they shouldn’t gossip, but she wasn’t quite sure how to do it. She’d just opened her mouth to speak up, when Danny cleared his throat.
“Now girls . . .” Danny sounded stern. “You know it’s not nice to gossip. If you gossip about somebody else, they might just gossip about you.”
Jessica giggled. “They can go ahead and do it. My life’s an open book. It’s blank, but it’s open.”
That cracked everyone up, Amy included. But all the while she was laughing and releasing the tension from the funeral, she was wondering why Danny always seemed to read her mind and anticipate exactly what she wanted to say.
Eight
It was Wednesday afternoon, and Amy, Colleen, and Kevin had just finished counting the votes. Amy had typed them up neatly, and as she walked down the hall to post them on the bulletin board, the loudspeaker crackled into life.
“Attention all students . . .” Amy recognized Mr. Dorman’s deep voice. “The National Weather Service has determined that road conditions are hazardous, and the scheduled basketball game with the Farmington Mountain Lions has been postponed. I repeat, there will be no basketball game tonight. That is all.”
Amy sighed as she reached the bulletin board and tacked up the latest contest results. There was clearly a new leader for Valentine’s Day Queen. Gail had a total of eighty-five votes, and Jessica, her closest competitor, had only twenty-three.
“Hey, Amy . . . are you going down to the Hungry Burger tonight?” Danny grinned as he approached the bulletin board from the opposite direction.
“I guess so. We always do when there’s no game. How about you?”
“I’ll be there. How’s the horse race coming?”
“Danny!” Amy laughed. “It’s not a horse race and you know it!”
Danny grinned. “Too bad it isn’t. I’d bet Gail to win.”
“I don’t think you could find anybody to take your bet. Brett’s been spending a lot of money buying her votes, and she’s way ahead of everyone else.”
Danny glanced at the list, and nodded. “You’re right. It’s pretty one-sided. But the rest of you are getting some votes.”
“Not enough to win. Jessica’s the closest with twenty-three, and Michele’s got nineteen. And then there’s Colleen with twelve.”
Danny raised his eyebrows. “Twelve? Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. We count the votes twice to make sure they’re right.”
“And she really got twelve?” Danny began to grin. “That’s great! Maybe I can stop spending my money on her.”
Amy was curious. “How much did you spend?”
“Five bucks. I didn’t want her to be the only girl without any votes. Do you have any idea who’s been voting for her?”
“Not really. I didn’t recognize the handwriting.”
Danny shrugged. “Oh, well. Whoever it is, I owe him one. I was getting tired of spending my hard-earned cash on this dumb contest.”
“Danny?” Amy turned to look up at him. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Sure, Amy. What is it?”
Amy began to blush. She hated to ask, but she really wanted to know. “I’ve got a total of five votes. Are you . . . uh . . . spending your money to buy me votes, so I won’t be embarrassed?”
Danny shook his head. “Not me. Don’t get me wrong, Amy. I would have written in your name, but I noticed that you were getting votes on your own.”
“Thanks . . . I think.” Amy laughed, and then she turned serious. “I wonder who’s voting
for me.”
“I don’t know. Can’t you tell by his writing?”
Amy shook her head. “No. He always prints. Do you think you could ask around, without being too obvious about it?”
“Sure. But why do you want to know?”
“Well . . .” Amy hesitated. She was terribly embarrassed. “If I tell you, will you promise not to say anything to anyone else?”
Danny nodded. “I promise. Now tell me.”
“I don’t have a date for the dance. I was going to ask Brett, but he’s going with Gail, and I don’t know who else to ask. If I can find out who’s voting for me, I’m going to ask him.”
“That sounds like a risky proposition. It could be someone you don’t like.”
Amy shook her head. “I don’t think so. If he’s voting for me, I’ll probably like him.”
“He might be short, with zits and sweaty palms.”
“So?” Amy shrugged. “It’s like my grandmother used to say: Handsome is as handsome does. And it was very handsome of him to vote for me. Besides, it’s only for one night, and I really want a date for the dance.”
“He could be incredibly stupid. After all, he’s . . .”
“Voting for me!” Amy laughed as she finished the rest of his sentence. “Thanks a lot, Danny. After all that’s happened, I needed a laugh. But will you try to find out for me soon? It’s really important.”
Danny nodded, and started down the hallway. But before he got very far away, he turned back to grin at her. “If I can’t find out, and you really want a date, you can always ask me. I’m not taken.”
“Right.” Amy grinned back. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”
As Danny disappeared around the corner, Amy’s grin faded, and she looked very thoughtful. It was a well-known fact that Danny never attended any of the Senior class dances. He’d told Colleen that it was because he was older, and it would bore him to tears to sip ginger ale from a paper cup, and dance around the gym with a girl who was still in high school. When Danny had said that she could ask him to the dance, he’d certainly been kidding . . . hadn’t he?
