Once the last contestant completed their really quite decent hip-hop dance routine, Sana and I huddled around Beth with our scorecards. Even though today’s events were the showiest, they were no longer the deciding factor for a pageant win. The volunteer portion was worth the most, point-wise, followed by the talent portion, then Q&A, and then the rest of the events. As usual, there were a few who dominated in every category, but there were always some falls from grace and rises to glory at this last event. Because there were only ten girls, the lowest in Shady Palms history, it didn’t take long to tabulate the scores. Beth had Sharon Randall in the top spot, followed by Joy, then Sara Colon. Sana had Sara at number one, Joy at number two, and Naoko at number three.
As much as I loved Naoko’s energy, she really only excelled at the creative side. She kind of fell flat in other areas for me, but Sana just shrugged when Beth voiced what I was thinking. “She’s got entrepreneurial spirit. That always calls out to me.”
I had Joy in the top position （Sara had originally been my frontrunner, but Joy’s song pushed her to number one）， followed by Sara, then （grudgingly） Sharon. Looking at the numbers, I couldn’t believe it, but it was there—Joy had won. Bernadette had coached a champion.
Beth called Mayor Gunderson over and handed him the envelope. He glanced over the results, quickly confirmed it with us, and then moved back to the stage.
“Shady Palms! Are you ready to meet this year’s Miss Teen Shady Palms?” He paused while everyone cheered. “In third place . . . let’s hear it for Miss Sharon Randall!”
Sharon smiled and made her way over to Valerie, who presented her with a lovely bouquet. Over the applause, I could swear I heard Mary Ann Randall scream, “What?!”
Mayor Gunderson continued. “And our runner-up, who will take over as Miss Teen Shady Palms in the event that our winner can no longer carry out the responsibility . . . Miss Sara Colon!”
Happy screams and cheers and blaringly loud air horns greeted this pronouncement, as Sara stepped up to receive her bouquet. She blew a kiss toward the section of the crowd that must’ve been her family, considering the giant banner they proudly held up. Mayor Gunderson tried shushing them, which only made them cheer louder （not going to lie, this made me cheer along with them）。
Once it finally quieted down, the mayor cleared his throat and did his impression of （what was later explained to me by Jae） the announcer calling out the starting lineup to the 90s Chicago Bulls team. “And finally, this year’s Miss Teen Shady Palms . . . let’s give it up for Joy Munroe!”
Chapter Twenty-five
As soon as Joy’s name was called, Katie burst into tears and ran off the stage.
Joy didn’t notice because she was too busy having the Miss Teen Shady Palms sash draped over her, so I got up from the judges’ table to go talk to Katie backstage. I could understand her disappointment, but I didn’t want her ruining this moment for her friend.
The backstage area was bustling with the festival organizers who were preparing for the band that was set to go onstage as soon as the pageant contestants finished their photos. It took me a while, but I finally got someone to point me in Katie’s direction. She was hiding out in the VIP area that the band had just vacated.
“Katie? Are you OK? I hope you’re not too disappointed.” I leaned my cane against a table and held out my arms in case she needed a hug. The teen hurled herself into my arms, sobbing so hard her body shook. “I’m really sorry. I know it’s tough. I’ve lost more than my fair share of competitions. But I hope you don’t let this ruin your friendship with Joy.”
She pulled away at that, her efforts to stop crying resulting in weird hiccupy gasps. “It’s not that. I don’t . . . I’m so scared, I—”
“Katie!” Joy ran up to us and hugged her friend. “When I couldn’t find you onstage, I got so worried. Are you OK?” She yanked off her tiara and sash, setting them aside on a nearby table. “I’m sorry, I wish we both could’ve won. You’re not mad at me, are you?”
“No, it’s not about you, Joy. I could never be mad at you. It’s just . . . I wanted out so bad and nothing worked, no matter what I did. And now that I lost, I’m worried what else—I mean, I’m worried how my mom is going to take it.”
“Your mom loves you, Katie. That’s all that matters.”
“Sometimes I worry she loves me too much.”
I’d stepped aside to give the two some privacy, but something about Katie’s tone caught my attention. “What do you mean? How is that even possible?”