“I know she’s grounded, Dr. Somerset, but do you think I could talk to her for just a minute? It won’t take long, I promise.”
Dr. Somerset pressed her mouth flat. “I don’t think so, Ivy. I’m not happy with the way my daughter has been behaving lately. Frankly, I’m not sure I want her to see—”
“Mom!”
June appeared behind her mother, and Ivy exhaled.
“June, absolutely not,” Dr. Somerset said, turning and pointing to the stairs that led to the house’s second floor. “Back to your room.”
“Mom, it wasn’t Ivy’s fault. She didn’t know I snuck out.”
Dr. Somerset sighed and rubbed her temples.
“Come on,” June begged. “She’s my friend.”
“Fine,” Dr. Somerset said, tossing her hands in the air. “Five minutes.”
“Thank you, thank you!” June said, and shoved past her mother to get to Ivy on the porch. Before Ivy could offer her thanks too, June slammed the door shut, cutting them off from Dr. Somerset.
“Hey!” June said, launching herself at Ivy, wrapping her in a hug.
“Hey,” Ivy said, laughing. She pressed her fingers to June’s back, but then made herself pull away. “Listen, I know you have to go, but I wanted to ask you something.”
“Okay, shoot.” June folded her arms and fixed her attention on Ivy. She was good at that. Whenever Ivy talked, June gave Ivy all her focus. Right now, it was making Ivy sweat even more.
“Well, it’s just that… um…” Ivy took a deep breath and made herself look at June, which didn’t help the stomach bats. June’s short hair was mussed, and her feet were bare. She had on a pair of cutoffs and a periwinkle tank top that made her brown eyes look even darker. She was so pretty. Ivy tried not to think about it too much, but right now, it was all she could see.
“Ivy?”
She blinked and stuffed her hands back in her front pockets. “Sorry. Um. Okay.”
June frowned and Ivy knew she was acting weird, so she swallowed a few times and looked down at the stone floor. Maybe if she didn’t look at all the pretty, that would help.
“Saturday is my birthday, and I—”
“Oh, it’s your birthday!” June said, clapping her hands. “Will you be thirteen?”
Ivy nodded. Swallowed. Breathed.
“I turn thirteen in August, and I’m determined to have a big party,” June said. “I don’t know if anyone will come, but just having it would be enough, you know?”
“I’d come.”
“Of course you would. You’re my best friend.”
“Really?”
June’s smile wavered. “Um… yeah. Is that okay?”
“Yes!” Ivy nearly shouted it, and June startled. “Sorry. I mean, yes. Yes, that’s great.”
June’s smile returned, along with a blush that pinked up her cheeks, and now Ivy was back to thinking about pretty.
She shook her head to clear it. “Anyway, Taryn asked what I wanted to do for my birthday, and I thought it might be fun to go to the Spring Dance.”
“Oh, yeah! I really wanted to go, but no one asked me, surprise, surprise. Taryn’s going with Drew, right?”
“Yeah. So… do you want to go?”
“To the dance?”
Ivy nodded, ready for June to grimace or stammer some excuse. But she didn’t do any of those things. Instead, she brightened and bounced on her toes a little.
“Yeah, let’s go together,” June said. “That’ll be even more fun.”
It took Ivy several seconds to realize that June had said yes.
“So… yes?” she asked, just to make sure.
“Of course, silly.” June laughed, but then grew serious. “That is, if my mom will let me. But even if she doesn’t—”
“June, you can’t sneak out to go to the dance. I think your mom already hates me.”
“No, she doesn’t. She’s just… she’s just being her. But leave it to me.” June tapped her chin, her eyes narrowing in mischief. “It’s your birthday, and I am not going to let you down.”
Ivy grinned and all those bats softened into delicate, beautiful butterflies.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
10:33
The day of the dance—the day of Ivy’s thirteenth birthday—she woke up with a stomachache, but not a sick stomachache. A nervous, panicky, can’t-get-enough-oxygen stomachache.
The past couple of days went by so fast, only two things really stood out. One, she still hadn’t heard from Keeper. She had no idea what to think about it all, since June was her only suspect. Her locker was depressingly empty, but the second thing kept her from despairing too much: June’s mom had agreed to let her go to the dance. Of course, Dr. Somerset had called the principal and asked if she could chaperone, but still. June would be there.
With Ivy.
At a dance.
With Ivy wearing the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen, thanks to Robin.
Ivy thought about mentioning the dance to Layla when she met her family at a park near the inn Thursday afternoon, mostly because she had absolutely nothing to wear. But what could Layla really do about it? It wasn’t like her sister had any dresses to lend her. And since her parents didn’t ask her what she wanted for her birthday, Ivy guessed that clothes weren’t really in the budget.
Aaron was fussy, so Ivy barely saw her mother for ten minutes. She simply offered Ivy a quick hug and said that she’d see Ivy on Saturday and that she couldn’t believe she was about to have “two amazing teenage daughters.” Then she went back to the hotel with Aaron, leaving Ivy to eat a picnic dinner with her sister and a sleeping Evan. Dad spent most of the time on the phone with a worried crease between his eyes.
So when Ivy ran into Robin on her way back to Taryn’s house, all the details about the dance spilled out. It was like the words were sitting there on Ivy’s tongue, waiting for someone to listen.
“That’s so exciting, Ivy,” Robin had said. “And you’re going with… June?”
Ivy nodded, a blush rushing into her cheeks. “I don’t have anything to wear, though. I can probably find something at Taryn’s, even though her stuff is a little small for me. It’ll be fine.”
Robin tilted her head at Ivy, her eyes thoughtful. Before Ivy knew it, Robin pulled her into Lacey’s, a little boutique kid’s clothing shop right off Main Street. Ivy tried on dozens of dresses, none of them feeling quite right.
Until.
Robin found a green dress on the sale rack. But it wasn’t just green. It was all the greens. Forest and pine and kelly and grass, all flowing together like a green ocean. The dress was sleeveless and fitted at the waist, but the skirt flared out with a layer of chiffon over satin. A-line, Robin had called it.
Ivy loved it.
“That’s the one,” Robin said, grinning. “Absolutely perfect with your hair.” She asked Ivy to twirl, and they both laughed as the dress flowed around Ivy perfectly.
After Ivy changed, Robin took the dress to the register and paid for it before Ivy could even blink.
“You don’t… I don’t know when I can pay you back,” Ivy said when Robin handed her the bag.
“I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to worry about it at all. I just want you to go to that dance, be yourself, and tell me all about it when it’s over. Okay?”
Ivy swallowed around the balloon in her throat and nodded. Then she hugged Robin, and Robin hugged her back, running her hand over Ivy’s hair just like Mom used to. It was so nice to be hugged by a grown-up, by someone Ivy liked and trusted. It was nice to feel taken care of.
Now, the morning of her birthday, Ivy stuffed herself with Mr. Bishop’s famous maple-and-brown-sugar pancakes, bacon, and orange juice, daydreaming about her dress. And this felt nice too. Taryn’s mom stuck a few candles into Ivy’s giant stack of pancakes, and they all sang “Happy Birthday.” Ivy cracked up because Taryn was completely off-key, but she didn’t really care. She sang loud and proud, and Ivy loved that about her.
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Ivy kept watching the clock while she ate, the hands moving closer and closer to 10:33, which was when she was born. At that exact moment, 10:33 in the morning, Ivy’s mom always told her happy birthday. If her birthday fell on a school day, Mom arranged for whatever teacher Ivy was with at that time to slip her a note and a little piece of chocolate at exactly 10:33. It was a thing her mom did that she never heard of any other moms doing, and Ivy loved it. Mom did it with Layla too, even though Layla was born at 4:15 AM in October. Every year, Mom set an alarm for herself and went into Layla’s room, snuggling with Ivy’s groggy and usually cranky sister, and sang “Happy Birthday” like a lullaby.
Ivy was sure Mom would do it with the twins too, every January 16 at 1:46 in the afternoon for Aaron, and then again at 1:53 for Evan. She would have to sneak them notes in school too.
After Ivy unwrapped Taryn’s present—a new turquoise messenger bag that Ivy loved, with a nice wide strap and magnetic closures—they settled in front of the TV to watch a movie. They brought a bowl of buttery popcorn with them, even though Ivy was so full, she could barely get a breath.
Ivy clung to her cell phone as the time moved closer and closer to 10:33.
10:14.
10:27.
Then it hit 10:33.
Then it passed.
10:41.
11:03.
And Ivy’s phone didn’t ring.
Now the clock read 11:33. The movie kept playing, and through the window, Ivy saw Mr. Bishop pushing the lawn mower up and down the front yard. But Ivy couldn’t hear anything over the sound of her lungs trying to get enough air while she turned off her phone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Dance
The school’s gymnasium was unrecognizable. Usually, it reeked of sweat and rubber with a hint of cheap fruity body spray. Tonight, it smelled of sparkly red punch and older brothers’ cologne and flowers from corsages and whatever those things are called that girls pin onto a guy’s jacket. And, yes, there was still a trace of the sweat and rubber, but overall, the place looked magical. White lights twinkled everywhere. They wound around the fake plants set up in the room, draped over the wall clocks and basketball goals, snaked through the bowls of chips and cookies on the snack table. The DJ played a happy song, and kids were already dancing in the center of the room. Everything was soft and pretty.
Including June.
Ivy walked in with Taryn and found June standing by the snack table. Her mom was here somewhere too, but at the moment, that didn’t matter. June was wearing a flowing, lacy dress the color of winter sunshine. Her dark hair and eyes looked even darker against the pale yellow. Ivy’s stomach did its normal thing, which is to say it thundered and flashed like a wild storm, but for once Ivy didn’t mind. She just let it be what it was. Because June was right—some storms could be awesome.
Earlier, when Mr. Bishop called up to Taryn’s room at 5:51 to tell the girls that it was time to leave for the dance, Ivy still hadn’t turned on her phone to see if her parents had called. At lunch when Mrs. Bishop asked if Ivy had talked to them, she had mumbled a yes, embarrassed that her family had forgotten her on the most important birthday she’d ever had.
Ivy had spent the rest of the afternoon doing the only thing that made her feel better: drawing. While Taryn and Mrs. Bishop ran a few errands, Ivy holed up in Taryn’s room and drew her first complete treehouse picture since the tornado. Except this time, it wasn’t some nameless girl inside the treehouse with Ivy.
It was June, short dark hair and tiny little braid over her ear and everything. It was the perfect drawing to help her forget about how horrible her birthday had been so far. It was the perfect drawing to remind her that tonight she was going to her first-ever dance with her first-ever crush as a first-ever teenager.
Right now June looked ready for her first-ever dance too. She grinned when she saw Ivy, a bright smile that Ivy would paint in pink and yellow starbursts if she could.
“Happy birthday!” June said, pulling Ivy into a hug. She smelled like violets. Or maybe lilacs. Something purple and pretty.
“Thanks,” Ivy said, even though she didn’t want to think about her birthday right now.
“Do they have cake here?” Taryn asked, craning her neck toward the snack table. “We need cake. You haven’t had cake today.”
“I don’t need cake.”
“Everyone needs cake,” Drew said, coming up next to Taryn, who grinned at him.
“Hey, Drew,” Ivy said. “How are you?”
He gave her a small smile and shrugged. “I’m okay, thanks.”
Ivy could feel her best friend looking at her. Taryn had been kind of quiet all afternoon while they were getting ready. She had shrieked over Ivy’s dress, and Ivy had shrieked over hers—a pale pink thing that reminded Ivy of fairy wings—but that was really it.
June’s hand slid into Ivy’s and squeezed her fingers. Ivy’s heart leaped and soared.
“Let’s all go dance,” June said, smiling at Ivy.
“Yeah. Dancing is good,” Ivy said.
Then June grabbed Taryn’s hand as well, while Drew mumbled something about finding his friends first.
“Ugh, boys,” Taryn said, but she was smiling as she watched Drew lumber off toward a group of guys near the DJ.
The three girls headed toward the dance floor. Ivy could feel her palms sweating into June’s as they got closer. Because this was it. Dancing. With June. Right here and right now, it was happening. Suddenly the gym felt like one giant treehouse, sparks of light and music and magic everywhere.
June pulled Ivy and Taryn to the center of the floor. A peppy song blasted through the speakers, and all their friends and even a few teachers were moving to the music. June and Taryn immediately started dancing, swaying their hips and lifting their arms in the air.
Ivy hesitated, wondering where she fit. June and Taryn were facing each other and giggling, but then June grabbed Ivy’s arm and pulled her closer and soon the three of them were moving in a little circle. Ivy’s dress floated around her legs, and the cool air spun between her hands as she waved them above her head. She smiled and laughed, and her friends smiled and laughed, and it felt exactly like her first-ever dance should feel.
Then the music slowed down. There was a nervous feeling in the air as kids coupled up around them, tiny smiles and eyes darting to the ground. Ivy slowed down too, her breathing heavy as she watched all the arms circling around waists and shoulders.
Boy-girl, girl-boy.
Ivy’s mouth went dry. It went even drier when Drew clomped over to Taryn and asked her to dance. It went positively desertlike when Taryn waggled her eyebrows at Ivy and wove her arm through Drew’s, leaving Ivy and June alone.
Ivy glanced at June, who was smiling as she watched Taryn loop her arms around Drew’s neck. June’s eyes sparkled, and everything about her seemed wistful.
They were surrounded by pairs of boys and girls, but Ivy ignored all of them and took a step closer to June. She couldn’t think about what people would say. She couldn’t think about where she would put her hands—would she hold on to June’s waist or would June hold on to hers? She could only think about June. And together, she was sure, she and June could figure out anything.
“Hey… June?”
June turned toward her.
Her eyes met Ivy’s.
Ivy’s met June’s.
Ivy’s hands were sweaty.
Her heart was like a jet plane, zooming around her body.
“So…” Her mouth was so dry that it nearly hurt. Zoom, zoom. “Do you want to—”
“Get some punch?” June said. “Yeah, I’m dying of thirst.”
Zoom… crash.
“Oh,” Ivy said. “Yeah, totally.”
Ivy followed June as she wove through the dancers. Ivy’s heart was dissolving in her chest. If she drew herself right now, she’d use all the watery blues, her whole solid body dripping and melting into a puddle like the Wicked Witch of the West.
“Yeah.”
“I mean, a year ago? Never thought I’d get to go to a school dance. But look at me!” June held her arms out and sloshed a bit of punch on her wrist. “I mean, yeah, my mom’s here, and she’s probably spying on me from behind some plant right now with her stethoscope hidden in her pocket, but hey, I’m at a dance. I’m dancing. It’s a miracle. And you and Taryn are spending the night at my house. Another miracle.”
She babbled on, and Ivy nodded and smiled, trying to figure out what just happened. Didn’t June want to dance?
“Now,” June said, “if I could just find a boy to dance with, that would really make this whole night a dream come true.”
Ivy blinked at her. It took a few seconds for June’s words to sink in, and when they did, all Ivy could get out was a croaked “What?”
June swallowed another gulp of punch. “You know, a boy. I love dancing with you and Taryn, but I guess I should try to slow dance with a boy. I’m almost thirteen. I’m supposed to have already danced with a boy, right? Do you think I should go ask one?”
“What… what do you mean, supposed to?”
But Ivy knew. Every doubt Ivy never let herself have about this dance was coming out of June’s mouth right now.
Supposed to. Boys. Dance.
June didn’t answer. She kept on talking, her normal stream of chatter in hyperdrive. “Taryn looks like she’s having fun with Drew. I never thought I’d slow dance with anyone either, but now that I’m here, I should try it. I want to try everything.”
If Ivy could melt any more, she would. She felt so stupid. It sounded so weird, June talking about boys. But it’s not like she ever talked about girls either. Of course June wanted to dance with a boy. Of course June thought she was coming to the dance with Ivy as friends. Of course, of course, of course.
Ivy Aberdeen's Letter to the World Page 15
