Boy Meets Ghoul Read online

  I reached for her hand as she took a deep breath and went on.

  ‘Anyway, I spent a long time wondering if Mum leaving was my fault. If I just hadn’t been enough for her to want to stay around for. And I think my aunt could sense weakness, the way sharks can spot blood in the water. She spent the whole visit constantly needling me about my weight. Telling me what to eat, what not to eat. Tutting every time I opened my mouth, let alone put anything in it. She’d written, Reminder: Nothing Tastes as Good as Skinny Feels at the top of every day on the wall calendar, and she told me it would help keep me focused on what was important.’

  Kayla had always been plus-sized. She used to say she never grew out of the chubby baby phase, so she decided to make it work for her. And Kayla was easily the most beautiful girl I knew, but her aunt might as well have written Reminder: You’re Not OK as You Are right there on her calendar.

  I winced. ‘How awful.’

  Kayla shook her head, hard. ‘How sad that that’s what was most important to her. Not how loved she was, not how much she loved other people, only how much of her there was. And skinny isn’t even a feeling – just like you can’t actually feel fat. All you can do is feel good about yourself or bad about yourself. Imagine feeling bad just because you take up a few extra inches in the world? I’m generally a nice person, so those are pretty good inches. That’s when I decided to choose to feel positive about being who I am, whatever size. No one gets to use me as a weapon against myself.’

  ‘Did you tell your aunt that?’ I asked.

  ‘No.’ She smirked. ‘I just found her secret Cadbury’s stash and glued the empty wrappers to the calendar pages before we left.’

  I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. Even if I was still feeling sort of wretched, she’d poured cool water on the worst of the burning, shameful parts. That was why she was my best friend. I wrapped an arm round her shoulder and tugged her in close. ‘You’re some of my favourite inches.’

  She laughed and squirmed away. ‘And you’re mine. But – ugh – you weren’t just playing enough for a whole team; you’re sweating enough for one too. Please take a shower before we go.’

  Shoving her lightly, I stood and shook myself off like a dog before heading to get changed.

  THIRTY-TWO

  I got showered and dressed as quickly as I could. We had the afternoon free, just in time to get to Kayla’s final Ghoulish Games challenge – a live event being held in St Peter’s Square in the city centre. I hadn’t even had a chance to ask her what she planned to do for it.

  Shouldering my way out of the changing room, I expected to find her waiting for me. But she wasn’t.

  Freddie was.

  I was starting to find the existence of Freddie Alton pretty unfair. At least, the fact that he kept existing so near me. And that I’d had to watch him play football all week, which, even if it wasn’t what he wanted to do forever, looked exactly like what he should be doing right now. He looked like a magazine advert selling perfect players – somehow, he could run around a pitch for hours without breaking a sweat, let alone picking up bruises or grazed knees. My legs looked like I’d just gone for a run through a patch of barbed wire, and I’d hardly even played.

  He wasn’t completely flawless, obviously. It wasn’t like he had hair that never fell out of place. It was just that every new place it fell into looked as good as the last one. And I knew now what it was about his eyes I’d always liked.

  They were kind. He had kind eyes and a kind smile and a face that could make me feel a little bit dizzy if I stared at him for too long. He wouldn’t be short of patients if he did become a doctor. People would be swooning all over the place as soon as he walked in wearing a white coat.

  And I was stuck being near him all the time, trying not to think about all the things I liked about him or to wonder what things he might like about me. I knew that if I started, then I might not stop, and things in my life were complicated enough without giving myself more reasons to feel guilty.

  I still didn’t even know if I had a boyfriend to feel guilty about.

  At least I was pretty sure I’d learned how to talk normally when Freddie was around. Then I opened my mouth, and Mickey Mouse squealed out a ‘Hi!’

  Honestly, it was like dealing with my voice breaking all over again, and that had been traumatic enough the first time. I’d stopped answering the phone when my voice got too unpredictable, because people kept thinking I was my mum.

  Freddie didn’t let on if he’d noticed my uncanny Disney impression. ‘Hey. So Kayla told me she set you straight about how unfair that was back there.’

  My lips twisted. She had, but . . . Jez had made some sense too. ‘It wasn’t all unfair.’

  ‘It is when you realize he’s had you set up from the start,’ Freddie said darkly.

  From the start? It was true that Jez had been coming down on me hard the whole week, and I’d never understood why. ‘I must have done something to cause it. I just don’t know what.’

  ‘You did. You messed it up in your first half an hour.’

  ‘I did?’

  Freddie nodded. ‘Remember those practice penalties on your first day?’

  That didn’t make sense. ‘But those all went in? That’s what I’m good at.’

  ‘Exactly. It took you five minutes to demonstrate to Jez that you were the biggest threat here, and he’s been working on keeping you out of action ever since.’

  I squinted at Freddie, not really seeing it.

  ‘Lacey told me. She says he always picks on the biggest talent, and this week he’s being especially bad because of the match at the end of the week. Pros versus students. Don’t you think it’s weird that Jez is captaining the team playing against us when he’s supposed to be our coach?’

  ‘I just thought that was how it worked . . .’

  To be honest, I hadn’t thought about it at all. Now that I did, it did seem strange. Chidi had said there might be scouts to impress, but we thought they’d be coming to check out the students, not the coach. Everybody already knew Jez could play – he’d never been a legend on the field, but he’d been talented enough. So why play against us when his job was to get us playing our best? To use some of Kayla’s legal speak, it sounded like a conflict of interests.

  Freddie had obviously thought so too. ‘Jez wants to use this match to get out of amateur coaching, for good. He wants to be the star of the match so people remember how good he was before the curry incident killed his career. Then maybe he can get back to playing for a few more years in a lower-league team.’

  I stared at Freddie as we walked down the hall, and for once I wasn’t wondering how anyone’s nose could be quite so ideally shaped for their face. ‘So he’s using us to make himself look good?’ It was just like Kayla had said. ‘Why did Lacey tell you all this?’

  Freddie smiled. ‘We get on really well. You know, there really is a lot more to her than meets the eye.’

  That wasn’t what the gossip magazines said, but they were usually talking about the cut of her dresses.

  ‘We were talking about her PhD. She hasn’t told Jez about it because he doesn’t like the idea of his girlfriend being more intelligent than he is – which means he shouldn’t be dating anyone able to feed and dress themselves, as far as I’m concerned. But she said he’s the same way about football. Look at his record and see how much time the best players in his teams spent out injured.’

  I could hardly believe what I was hearing. ‘Why is Lacey still dating him, then?’

  ‘They met at school. She says he was all right back then, but success went to his head. Maybe all that curry overheated his brain. Anyway, she’s telling him about the PhD tonight.’

  ‘That must have been what they were arguing about.’ I sighed. ‘Well, it’s not going to save me from the subs bench tomorrow, but at least now I understand why I’ll be there.’

  Freddie nodded. ‘I’m sorry it’s so unfair. Leroy says he’s going to write a scathing Twitter revi
ew of the course.’

  I grinned. ‘Maybe I should do that too: Delighted to say Feet of the Future is firmly in my past. One star – would not attend again.’

  ‘I would,’ Freddie said quietly.

  ‘Seriously? You don’t even like football that much.’

  ‘Not really.’ He shrugged. ‘But I like you, so it’s been worth it.’

  This was it. My chance to tell him I liked him too. That I’d liked him for ages, long before I’d actually spoken to him. I’d liked him even when I’d thought he must be a complete jerk, because no one could possibly be allowed to be as attractive as he was and be nice.

  I really did like him. But it was strange. All that time I’d spent at school imagining what it would be like if he were my boyfriend, I’d never once imagined us as friends.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, and this time didn’t bother to hide the photo of Leo on my screen. I still hung up without answering, though.

  Freddie was watching. ‘Do you ever actually speak to him? Your boyfriend?’

  I looked away. ‘I don’t know if I want to, yet.’

  We turned the corner towards the doors to find Kayla and Leroy waiting.

  ‘We’re not late for the contest, are we?’ I asked.

  ‘It wouldn’t matter if we were,’ Kayla said. Her jaw looked oddly tight. ‘I’ve got nothing to enter in it.’

  ‘What?’ I’d seen her drag in a full bag of supplies this morning. It couldn’t have evaporated – though she wasn’t holding it now. ‘But you were picked to go along tonight! You’ve been working on it all week!’

  ‘I know, but it’s all gone. We’re supposed to go down there and give them a big scare – I’d been turning that cheerleader outfit into an evil zombie chainsaw cheerleader . . . It was going to be a great costume; I’d even made a backdrop to go with it. And I was going to get one of you to let me cut them up onstage, but . . .’

  She stopped, her jaw setting tight.

  ‘The cleaners must have been in the office this morning,’ Leroy finished. ‘Seen all the ripped cloth and bloodstained mannequin parts and thrown them out.’

  ‘So I’ve got nothing to show,’ Kayla said. ‘And there’s no time to come up with anything else. That was my best idea, anyway.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous – we must be able to think of something,’ I said urgently. I couldn’t let Kayla get relegated to the subs bench too.

  We all stared at each other blankly.

  Then Leroy said, ‘I think I might have an idea.’

  And by the time he’d finished telling us what it was, it was him we were all staring at.

  He smiled shyly. ‘I told you I was good under pressure.’

  THIRTY-THREE

  We had to jog from the bus stop to reach St Peter’s Square in time. Freddie and I were both on our phones, while Kayla and Leroy were dragging a huge bag between them. I could hear the crowd before I saw it. The Deathsplash Nightmares weren’t even attending, but I recognized half the fans that had been staking out our hotel among the faces.

  Up onstage, a group of boys about our age were holding a CD player with a sign dangling from it reading World’s Loudest Scream. Since the crowd were already drowning out the sound it made, I didn’t think they had much of a shot at the prize for a ‘big scare’.

  My phone kept buzzing. Texts were coming in quicker than I could reply to them – half from unknown numbers. I added them all to a group chat on my phone and sent a quick message.

  We’re here. Look for the girl with the green hair.

  I eyed Kayla and realized the problem with using her as a marker point. Her hair was bright enough to stand out, but she was barely five feet tall in heels – there was no point looking for her in a crowd when she was hidden in the depths of it.

  Freddie must have got my message and had the same thought. I looked at him, then said, ‘Kayla, crouch down.’

  ‘What? Why?’ She abandoned the handle of the bag she was sharing with Leroy, and he struggled for a moment before dropping it, panting.

  ‘Just do it!’

  She crouched. I bent forward on one knee, and Freddie picked her up and set her firmly on my shoulders. He held her hand as I shakily straightened up.

  Seconds later, the first person came up to us. She had an absurdly bright smile and dozens of coloured beads woven into her box braids, and she still had her Camp Cheer uniform on. ‘Dylan and Kayla? I’m Cindy, the cheer captain. We’re here for the scare.’

  Onstage, the final entry before ours was being played, and it was a good one. The Deathsplash Nightmares’ hit ‘RIP ROCKNROLL’ started up with a low, menacing beat, a music video accompanying it on a big screen. The usual live footage of the Nightmares in concert was intercut with a horror movie, making it look like the crowd were a bunch of zombies who’d started to hunt each other for brains. It almost looked professionally made.

  ‘Oh, no, this is amazing . . .’ Kayla leaned down and murmured into my ear.

  ‘I think we’re still in with a chance. Come on – we’d better get to the stage.’

  Almost everyone we’d called had shown up in time. Josh, Chidi, Aaron and most of Feet of the Future – and, thanks to Freddie having phone numbers for a few of the cheer squad, they’d all turned up too. In total, there were nearly twenty of us getting ready at the edge of the stage.

  Leroy handed out hideous pull-on plastic masks from his bag – corpses, monsters and American presidents – while Cindy told us exactly where we had to stand. She was working Kayla and the football team into one of the big routines they’d be performing tomorrow. As soon as the video onstage ended – and the applause died down – the cheerleaders ran on wearing the horror masks and shaking their pom-poms.

  ‘Give us an S!’

  Already worked up, the crowd yelled back happily, ‘S!’

  ‘Give us a C!’

  ‘C!’

  ‘Give us an A!’

  ‘A!’

  ‘Give us an R!’

  ‘R!’

  ‘Give us an E!’

  ‘E!’

  ‘What does it spell?’

  The crowd yelled back at us, ‘SCARE!’

  Me, Freddie and the rest of the team moved on to the stage to the spots we’d been given, taking up support positions. I’d started to regret being so enthusiastic about Leroy’s idea – I couldn’t even catch a ball, let alone a person flying through the air. All I could think about was tomorrow’s ‘Cheer Carnage’ headlines, with a photo of me dropping Cindy on her head.

  But there was no going back now. Thankfully I wasn’t given too much time to worry, because as soon as we were in our places, the cheer squad started leaping and backflipping into theirs.

  It’s a good word, SCARE. It’s full of clean, simple lines. I’d just never expected to have to become it before.

  I was in the middle, the backbone of the R. All I had to do was stand solidly and hold on to the waist of a girl I’d never met before, who was climbing on to my shoulders.

  ‘I’m Nishi,’ she whispered, as she set her feet on either side of my neck. ‘Nice to meet you!’

  Then she bent over backwards, trusting me to hold on to her as she curved her spine and grabbed me by my waist to form the top part of the R. One of the male cheerleaders lay on the floor with his feet flat against my stomach to be the lower section.

  All along the row, everyone was settling into their positions. E was formed by Freddie and Chidi working together to hold up a girl with her legs and arms straight out at right angles.

  There was a murmuring from the crowd as they worked out what we were doing, and then finally a burst of applause. It was cheesy, but it couldn’t be denied: we’d given them a really big SCARE.

  We held the positions until my legs were starting to buckle – as a photographer from the local press darted out to get a picture. Then gradually the SCARE fell apart. Cheerleaders jumped up and punched the air. Nishi took a bow from my shoulders before climbing down. As th
ey celebrated, some of them started doing flips on the spot. Cindy did a cartwheel before another cheerleader caught her and helped flip her into the air. She spun round twice before someone else caught her.

  Then another girl tried it. In a minute, it seemed like the air was full of flying girls. We formed a circle, clapping, and the crowd started to join in as the cheer squad took turns to do ever more impressive leaps and throws. Finally Cindy and one of the male cheerleaders threw a girl incredibly high, right in the middle of the circle.

  She spun in the air, a mix of bright uniform and green hair, then came down.

  And nobody caught her.

  We were in such a close huddle by then that her fall couldn’t be seen, but there was a thud and crack as she hit the stage, and . . . silence.

  Even the crowd fell silent.

  You could have heard a whisper a mile away, it was so quiet. We’d all rushed forward, pressing in around the girl where she fell . . . until other people started to fall forward too. Or to be dragged down by some irresistible force. People – from the cheer squad and from our team too – were tumbling forward, on to their faces, on to hands and knees, and nobody was getting back up. It wasn’t long before I was one of them, dragged down into the pile, unmoving.

  Until finally, over the pyramid of fallen bodies, Kayla the zombie cheerleader crawled her way out.

  She’d still had the make-up she’d been planning to use, and we’d borrowed a uniform so she’d fit in with the others. Aaron – who’d be in goal tomorrow and was a thousand times better than me at catching anything – had been instructed to dive forward and catch Kayla as she fell. Chidi had made the thudding noise that sounded like her hitting the stage.

  The crowd went completely nuts. When I finally got back up, Kayla was grinning like a zombie in a Mensa meeting.

  The local DJ whose radio station was running the competition rushed forward to grab her hands and introduce her to the crowd. ‘Kayla Flores, everyone!’ she said into her mic. ‘I don’t know about you, but she nearly gave me a heart attack! And that’s all our entries. Now, let’s get everyone up here, and we’ll let the judges give their verdict.’