Free Devil Moon by Dana Taylor Page B

carried a megaphone. "Who are you supposed to be–Rudy Vallee?"
    "You've got it! Going to the first football game of the season is so 1920's, makes me want to do the Varsity Drag. I should have told you to dress as Clara Bow."
    "Sorry, you'll just have to settle for plain ol’ Madeleine Harris, uptight assistant principal." She walked out to the car.
    Taking the curvy roads, Randy glanced at her from the driver's side. "You've got to promise me–only one Coke."
    Maddie appeared highly insulted. "Randall, I am not a foolish college coed any longer. I've learned how to control my natural exuberance at sporting events."
    He watched the dusky light play on her face. "Oh, yeah? Do you remember last year's Super Bowl Watch Party? And that was in front of the TV!"
    Maddie had washed down M&M's with a half liter of Coke at Randy's party and nearly come to blows with four of his friends who were rooting for the opposite team. For Maddie, caffeine and sugar took on drug-like properties.
    "I assure you that was a complete aberration. Besides, this is a high school game. How exciting can it get?"
    Randy didn't say anything, but Jimmy Durante's voice echoed in his head. You ain't seen nothin' yet .
    * * *
    At the Finn household, Ginger put the finishing touches on Reba's hair, gazing over the girl's shoulder into a mirror. Reba chewed her lip and examined her sweater and jean outfit fearing that it made her look fat–all eighty-nine pounds of her.
    "You think this makes my butt look big?"
    Ginger scoffed, "Don't gripe to me about big butts." She clicked the clip in place. "There! That'll do it."
    Reba stared at her reflection, seeing the curly hair, wishing she didn't have freckles across her nose. Still, she liked the ribbed sweater her mom had bought at a garage sale.
    Since her singing debut on Thursday, she was suddenly someone people noticed. All day Friday kids said "hi" in the halls and she got invited by some popular girls to hangout with them at the game.
    Downstairs, Wade finished packing baggies of pot in his jacket pocket. He intended to sell the last of his supply at the game, an easy way to make some fast bucks. He'd been doing it for years. Everyone thought he was such a big fan. Like anyone could get excited about a half-assed high school football team. Usually he went alone, but tonight Reba had begged to go along.
    "Reba, I'm leaving here in five minutes. I ain't waiting for you!" He hollered into the hall.
    The walls shook as Reba hopped down the stairs. "Comin' Pa!"
    George and Vince yelled at each other over a Nintendo game that had them glued in front of the TV, while Faith sat coloring a picture at the kitchen table.
    Wade focused on Reba as she entered the kitchen. "Damn, you look good, girl! Our baby daughter is growing up on us, Ginger."
    Ginger entered the room holding baby Garth. "She's the same age I was when I met you." Suddenly Ginger frowned and spoke sharply, "Don't you go off with any boys, Reba."
    "I told you, I'm meeting some girls, Mom."
    Ginger eyed her suspiciously. "You keep an eye on her, Wade."
    Wade slipped on his jacket. "It's just a friggin' Beaver High football game. She can't exactly get lost in the crowd."
    * * *
    "Come on...hurry up..." Melissa watched her mom primping before the bathroom mirror. Pam sprayed her bleached hair in place and leaned in close, examining a slight smudge of her lipstick. Mom still liked to think she was a young cheerleader, but the lines around her eyes told a different story. The way she poured over fashion magazines and dressed like Britney Spears made Melissa want to hurl.
    Pam glanced at her tomboy daughter standing impatiently in the doorway, dressed in a backwards baseball cap, torn sweatshirt and loose jeans. Melissa looked and acted like her father, more than Pam would ever admit. The girl was a slob, didn't bother with things that didn't interest her, but could get totally absorbed in a Discovery Channel show about lizards, sharks, tarantulas or any