Switched (8 page)

“The
All Hallows’ Ball,” Sophia said apologetically. She sounded like a little kid
who knows she’s in trouble. “Every year, they use the same lifeless
professional photographer with a combover, and I think I could do something
seriously great and candid. But we have to be on the planning committee first.”

Olivia
blurted, “That sounds cool.”

Sophia
looked completely shocked, and Olivia realized that Ivy would
not
think
party planning was cool.
At all.

“I
mean you taking the pictures sounds cool.
Not
party planning,” Olivia
added hastily.Then she continued in a glum tone, meant to convey Goth resignation,
“Just don’t expect me to say anything in this meeting. I’ll sit there, but that’s
it.”

“Agreed,”
Sophia said, looking relieved.

“Thanks,
Ivy.”

As
they walked, Olivia wondered why she hadn’t heard anything about the ball
before. At her old school, there would have been posters everywhere.

The
tree-lined street had turned into a concrete thoroughfare, and they walked past
a Funky Chicken and a Marly’s Discount Superstore.

Sophia
leaped up on a bench and tiptoed along it, jumping down. Olivia struggled to
limit her reaction to a close-lipped Goth smile, but it wasn’t easy. Then she
noticed Sophia’s earrings—two little black bowling balls with white bowling
pins dangling below them.

“Your
earrings are so cute!” Olivia exclaimed. “Don’t be such a witch,” Sophia replied
drily.

She
must have thought her friend was being sarcastic.

Olivia
mentally kicked herself. She
had
to stop using words like “cute,” or she’d
never make it through the afternoon in one piece.

Sophia
veered into the parking lot of a giant FoodMart. Olivia was a little surprised,
considering they were already running late, but she followed Ivy’s friend
inside without comment. Maybe they were supposed to bring food to the meeting,
like pretzels or something.

But
Sophia didn’t even go to the snack aisle.

Olivia
followed her past paper towels and laundry detergent to the back of the store.
They stopped in front of a scruffy stock boy with jet-black hair and a nose
ring, who was stacking cases of cranberry juice on a cart.

Out of
nowhere, Sophia said, “Pumpernickel.”
Well, that’s a lame meeting snack
,
thought Olivia. Without even looking at them, the boy silently pulled a key
from a chain that hung from his belt loop and unlocked a gray door marked STAFF
ONLY. Sophia walked through, and Olivia hustled after her.

This
is weird,
thought
Olivia.

They
started down an impossibly steep, dimly lit staircase. There was no handrail,
and Olivia was scared she’d trip over her boots. Sophia barreled down
fearlessly ahead of her.

Clearly
this thing was a total secret, Olivia decided. But what kind of dance required
a hush-hush meeting in the basement of a supermarket? The only thing Olivia
could think of was a TV special she’d seen about some girls in Europe who threw
massive raves in warehouses. All their planning was top secret because the cops
were always trying to bust them.

My
mom will
never
let
me go to this dance
, thought Olivia with a tinge of disappointment.

The
stairs led to a long, narrow hallway. The girls passed an unmarked door, behind
which Olivia could have sworn a crowd of people was laughing and talking.
Finally, after squeezing past a stack of chairs, they reached the end of the
hall and another nondescript door.

Sophia
pushed it open, and Olivia was surprised to find herself in a room that looked
a lot like the conference room at her dad’s old office: dry-erase board, pukey
beige carpet, black imitation-leather office chairs. The only real difference
was the huge round stone table in the center of the room.

There
were some Goths standing around drinking cherry punch. A serious-looking girl
with chunky glasses was organizing papers on the table.

“Hi,
Soph,” said a girl wearing a studded collar. She nodded at Olivia. “Hey, Ivy. I
can’t believe you actually came.”

Olivia
had no idea what the girl’s name was. She shifted uncomfortably.

Luckily,
the girl in the chunky glasses cleared her throat in an official way and bailed
Olivia out by saying, “We’re five minutes late. Let’s get started.”

Olivia
was already lowering herself into a seat when she noticed that everyone else
was simply standing behind their chairs. She jerked herself back up.

The
room was silent. The girl in charge held her hands above the table like she was
warming them over a fire and closed her eyes. “May the Secret be cloaked in
darkness,” she said solemnly.

“And
never see light of day,” the group responded as one.

Olivia
was baffled.
This must be the weird sense of humor Ivy was talking about,
she
thought. She hoped no one had noticed that she hadn’t joined in. They were now
all sitting down, so she quickly slipped into her chair.

“Okay,
people,” the girl began. “We only have three weeks to pull off Franklin Grove’s
two hundred and second annual All Hallows’ Ball, and I’m determined to make it
the best one ever. This is the first of three planning committee meetings.
Today we need to decide on the theme and who’s going to be responsible for—”

She
was interrupted by raucous laughter in the hallway, and suddenly the door swung
open. In slouched four boys with dirty-looking hair and heavy metal T-shirts.

It was
the boys who had cornered Olivia in the hall at school, the ones Ivy called the
Beasts. Olivia clutched her backpack nervously underneath the table.
It’s
okay,
she told herself.
Ivy isn’t scared of them.

“What
a surprise!” the girl leading the meeting said coolly. “You guys are late.”

“Sorry,
Melissa,” said one Beast sarcastically as he and his friends grabbed seats. “We
had to, uh, grab a bite.”

The
other Beasts guffawed dumbly, but everyone else just groaned.

“You
wish,” said a girl with a streak of white in her hair.

“As I
was saying,” Melissa snapped, calling the meeting back to order. “The first
thing we need to do is pick a theme. Let’s brainstorm.”

People
started calling out ideas. A boy with a shaved head said, “What about a costume
ball?”

“Or a
forest party?” suggested the girl with the white streak. “Like where everybody
dresses up as trees and things? We could do it in the woods.”

“The
Ball of the Future?”

“What
if everybody had to wear something purple?”

“I
once went to a sweet sixteen where there was an ice cream bar, and people were
seriously into it.”

“I
know! What about Franklin Grove Star Search?”

Melissa
did not look impressed.

Oh,
my gosh,
Olivia
thought suddenly,
I have the
best
idea
! “How about a vampire
theme?” she blurted. “You could do coffins instead of tables, and spiderwebs
and bats hanging everywhere. And . . . ooh, you could even get a big projector
and show that old Dracula movie—you know, the black-and-white one with that
Bela guy? And someone could take black-and-white photographs of all the guests!”

Nobody
spoke for a long time. At last the boy with the shaved head said, “So you want
to perpetuate the stereotype?”

Huh?
thought Olivia.

“No,
Ivy’s onto something . . .” Melissa decided, nodding slowly. “Retro is in.”

“Can
you imagine? Everyone in fangs and capes and stuff?” mused the girl with the
streak of white hair. “That would be deadly.”

“I
agree,” said the girl with the studded collar, turning to Olivia. “This idea
really sucks, Ivy.”

For a
second, Olivia thought she might get thrown out of the meeting, but then she
remembered again that “suck” was good. She glanced over at Sophia, who was
staring at her in shock but who still managed a small, surprised smile.

In the
food court at the mall, Ivy fidgeted at a little table, watching as Brendan
Daniels waited in line at Deep Slice for a small Carnivore’s Delight pizza for
the two of them to share. A long silver key chain looped out of his back
pocket. He turned and smiled at her from under his cowl of dark curls. She gave
a small breathless wave and continued stacking the spice shakers on the table.

Their
date so far hadn’t gone anything like Ivy had imagined. The first thing Brendan
had done was lead her right past Spins and Dungeon Clothing to the arcade,
where he challenged her to an air hockey tournament.

For
the next forty minutes, they had barely spoken. Instead, they shouted and
laughed and banged their little round paddles on the table as the thin puck
whizzed between them, cracking against the boards.

Ivy
took four games out of seven. “You let me win!” she had said, grinning and
bravely nudging Brendan’s arm as they walked out of the arcade.

“You think
so?” he’d replied, spinning on his heels and grabbing her hand. “Then let’s
make it best of eleven.”

Brendan
had won that round, but only just. He’d promised Ivy they’d keep a running
tally.

Now
she was watching as he filled two huge cups at the drinks dispenser.
When he
comes back
, she thought, remembering her sister’s advice,
I’m going to
ask him about himself.

Brendan
approached carefully, his eyes on the two tall cups that were filled to the
brim with red lemonade. Steam rose off the pizza and bathed his face. He set
the food down in front of Ivy and looked at her.

“You
know I’ve been scared to death,” he said.

“Of
spilling something?” Ivy asked, pretending to be distracted by balancing the
oregano atop the pepper atop the salt.

Across
from her, Brendan shook his head. “I have so many questions I want to ask you,”
he told her.

Ivy
blinked at her tower and prepared to put the crushed red pepper flakes on top. “Like
what?”

“I don’t
know.” He shrugged. “Everything?”

Ivy
couldn’t help recalling what Olivia had said about boys who ask questions.
Boyfriend
material!
she thought, her heart pounding. She tried not to seem excited.

Brendan
asked, “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

Ivy’s
hand jerked, and the chili peppers knocked into the oregano, and the entire
tower of spices collapsed, crashing right into Ivy’s full cup of lemonade and
sending it flying.

Brendan
was already on his feet. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll get some napkins.”

Pretty
soon everybody at the planning committee meeting was talking about the theme
Olivia had suggested for the ball. Meanwhile, the Beasts kept whispering and
snickering to one another.

Finally
Melissa turned to them and said, “Care to share?”

They
all looked up. One of them said, “Uh, yeah. We got an idea.”

“Okay,”
said Melissa.

“It’s
a really excellent idea for a—what do you call it?—a decoration,” the same
Beast went on. His friends chuckled.

“Totally
excellent,” one of them muttered.

“
Okay,
”
said Melissa impatiently.

“A
blood fountain,” the first Beast announced.

“A
what?
”
said Melissa.

“You
know. A fountain of
blood.
” All the Beasts were totally cracking up now.

“As
if,” said Melissa, rolling her eyes. “Talk about perpetuating stereotypes.
Besides, fountains were last year’s party feature.”

Sophia
whispered, “What losers!” in Olivia’s ear, and Olivia felt relieved that Ivy’s
friends didn’t want to take her idea that far.

“All
right,” Melissa continued efficiently. “It looks like we’ve got our theme. The
next big question on the agenda is where should we hold the ball? Any ideas?
And, no”—she glared at the Beasts—“the graveyard is
not
an option!”

Olivia
felt a nudge under the table, and looked over to find Sophia looking at her
intently.

“Anyone?”
asked Melissa.

Sophia
was now pursing her lips and glaring at Olivia, clearly trying to say something
with her eyes, but Olivia had no idea what it was.

Sophia
sighed and turned to face the table. “How about Ivy’s house?” she suggested. “You
know, that mansion on top of Undertaker Hill? It has a massive ballroom on the
third floor.You can see all Franklin Grove from up there.”

Olivia
kicked Sophia under the table. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea!” she put in
hurriedly. “I don’t think my parents ...I mean, parent ...I mean, dad . . .”
She shook her head wildly. Everybody was looking at her. “Well, he won’t like
it,” she finished lamely.