Twin Spins!

by Sienna Mercer

  This time Olivia really did jump up and down. ‘Congratulations! Your secret’s safe!’ This was the best news she’d heard all day.

  Ivy shrugged. ‘For now.’ She started to walk away.

  ‘What is wrong with people today?’ Olivia muttered, before following her twin out of the school.

  Ivy jolted to a stop in the open doorway of her house on Undertaker Hill. No way. It looked as if a closet had exploded. Suitcases lay open with clothes spewing out on to the floor. Ivy even spotted one of her grandmother’s fancy dresses hanging from a lampshade. The house was in total chaos. Olivia and Ivy stood in the doorway, bewildered.

  ‘Maybe our dad shouldn’t be skimping on a maid,’ Olivia muttered into Ivy’s ear. Maybe you’re right, thought Ivy.

  ‘Bombs away!’ The girls looked up to see the Count tossing a velvet jacket over the top railing, where it landed in a lumpy pile with a number of other garments.

  ‘What is going on?’ Ivy demanded.

  Horatio scrambled to fold the Count’s clothing, but he couldn’t keep up with the speed at which Ivy’s grandfather was tossing articles down.

  The Countess rushed in and stuffed a bag of toiletries into Horatio’s stiff arms. Horatio offered the girls an awkward smile. ‘The Countess can never have too many outfits,’ he said, and then got back to work trying to wrestle the Count’s clothes into a piece of leather luggage.

  ‘Well, hello!’ the Count shouted from the second floor, leaning over the railing. ‘Didn’t see you all there!’

  Ivy snapped her neck back. ‘No offence, but have you gone mad?’

  The Countess scurried in with another bundle. ‘Not mad; glad!’ cried Ivy’s grandmother. ‘We have to get back to Transylvania at once!’

  With surprising speed, the Count tramped down the stairs and began helping Horatio stuff the suitcase. ‘Yes, without a single moment of delay,’ he declared.

  Ivy and Olivia’s heads pinged back and forth between their grandparents.

  ‘There’s been an announcement. Prince Alex and Tessa have revealed their engagement.’ The Countess wiggled the fingers of her left hand.

  ‘Oh my goodness,’ Olivia gushed. ‘They’re getting married?’

  ‘Yes! And the Queen has asked specifically for me to help with the planning!’ She glanced around at the floor. ‘Now, where is my other shoe?’ The Countess was clutching one lace-up boot in her slender hands.

  Olivia dropped to the ground, crawling under the coffee table to retrieve the boot’s mate. ‘Wow,’ she said, helping the Countess pack her fancy footwear. ‘And I thought organising a school dance was tough! I can’t imagine planning a royal wedding!’

  ‘I know, and they are having the wedding in only a few weeks! Weeks! ’

  Ivy jolted at this. ‘Why so soon?’

  The Countess thrust another pair of shoes into Horatio’s arms and slung a belt over his shoulder. ‘Apparently the Queen wants to get Alex and Tessa married as soon as possible to prove she really does support the two of them. The Transylvanian nobility seem to have gotten it in their heads that this isn’t a real relationship.’ The Countess clucked her tongue. ‘And the Queen is eager to put those rumours to rest. So, the second Alex told her about the engagement, the Queen called me.’ Then as if in confidence, she said to the girls, ‘The Queen knows we’re a bit more open-minded, what with all that business with Charles . . .’

  Ivy was so not the type to get excited about anyone putting on a big, white meringue dress – that was more her sister’s department – but even she had to admit she felt a rush of happiness for Tessa, the servant girl who’d been so kind to them in Transylvania. Tessa and the prince had been secretly in love for years and now she was being accepted into the Transylvanian royal family. Ivy. She could almost hear Olivia constructing her version of the fairy-tale romance now.

  Ivy watched as Olivia sat on a suitcase to help Horatio lock it. Maybe there were good points to living in Transylvania. Despite the strict hierarchies, the Queen was going to a lot of trouble to prove that she accepted and supported her son’s love. Would finishing school really be all that bad?

  When the Count stepped back into the room, he appeared to have caught his breath. The suitcases were packed and the room was starting to look much more orderly. ‘My dearest, we need to hurry if we’re to catch our last-minute flight.’ He turned to the twins. ‘Are you two excited?’

  ‘About what?’ Ivy asked. ‘I mean, I’m happy for Tessa and all. You’ll have to promise to take pictures!’

  ‘Naturally the two of you have also been invited to the wedding,’ said their grandfather.

  ‘We have?’ Olivia went gooey-eyed.

  The Count pulled out two cream-coloured invitations, printed on thick stationery. Written in scrolling black calligraphy, the invitation read:

  Together with their families

  Prince Alexander of Transylvania

  Miss Tessa Lupescu

  Request the pleasure of your company as they

  exchange wedding vows

  In a summer ceremony

  At the Chateau du Transylvania

  ‘The Queen had these couriered over this morning,’ explained the Count. ‘We wanted you to get the full effect.’

  Ivy watched her sister twirling around, and pressing her invitation tight to her chest. ‘You’re thinking about dresses, aren’t you?’ she asked Olivia.

  ‘There are just so many possibilities!’ Olivia said, performing an impromptu waltz.

  Ivy rolled her eyes and her grandfather leaned in. ‘You know,’ he whispered. ‘There will be plenty of wedding cake for midnight feasts . . .’

  ‘Red velvet cake?’ Ivy gave the Count a sly sidelong glance.

  ‘I wouldn’t doubt it.’ They both licked their lips.

  The Countess snapped shut the ruby-jewelled clasp on her large shoulder bag. ‘I’m ready!’ She held out her arms. ‘Girls, we have your flights booked and we will see you again soon. It’s going to be – what do you call it, Olivia? – “fun and fabulous”!’ The girls giggled at their grandmother’s hip lingo.

  Horatio ushered the Count and Countess out of the doorway, where a more human-sized driver stood next to a shiny black Rolls Royce. Why isn’t Horatio taking them? Ivy wondered.

  Hiking up her long skirt and bustling to the car, the Countess called back, ‘Don’t forget to help Ivy and Olivia with their packing, Horatio. Ivy will have more luggage than she can handle!’

  Car doors slammed and the Rolls Royce rumbled to life, edging its way out of the circular drive and into Ivy’s cul-de-sac. Phew! Did any of that really happen? It was such a whirlwind, Ivy wasn’t sure.

  Linking arms, Ivy and Olivia turned and followed Horatio back up the path and indoors.

  ‘Excuse me,’ said Olivia, nudging Ivy, ‘but I thought I was the clothes horse. Why would you have more luggage than you could handle?’

  Ivy bit her lip. She thought about inventing a story – something about needing new clothes? – but she stopped herself. She couldn’t take this any longer. Brendan was right. She couldn’t lie to her twin sister. ‘How about we go up to our room? There’s something I need to tell you.’

  Horatio closed the front door behind them and Ivy followed her sister upstairs. Ivy knew the butler had to have overheard. Would Horatio be upset if she broke a vampire law? At the top of the staircase Ivy paused, peering over the railing. Instead of looking disappointed in her, Horatio just gave Ivy a solemn nod. Right, Ivy thought, twin-sister code does trump vampire code. I can do this.

  ‘Now explain one more time.’ Olivia sat cross-legged on Ivy’s carpet.

  ‘Olivia!’ Ivy had already explained Wallachia Academy and why she needed to go three separate times. On the last one she had even gone so far as to include her grandparents’ description of the Gothic castle!

  ‘Sorry, I just can’t believe it.’ Olivia rested her elbows on her knees and tucked her fists under her chin. ‘You’re going to finishing school . . . in T
ransylvania . . . without me?’ Olivia shook her head slowly. ‘But, you know, that’s not the worst thing. The worst thing is that you kept it a secret all this time. A secret! What other stuff has been going on behind my back?’ Olivia’s sharp green eyes bored into her sister.

  Ivy groaned. She couldn’t have felt worse if she were forced to eat bunny food for the rest of her life. ‘That’s it – I’m not going!’ She tossed up her hands. Hadn’t her grandparents ever heard of home-schooling? That was what she needed – Wallachia Academy-style.

  Olivia’s face was buried in her hands and her shoulders began to shake. Was she crying? Ivy’s chest throbbed. She pulled Olivia’s hands away from her face, expecting to see black streaks of mascara and splotchy make-up running down her cheeks, but – wait! – Olivia was . . . laughing!

  ‘Gotcha.’ Olivia grinned.

  ‘Hey!’ Ivy pushed Olivia’s shoulder and she toppled over backwards so that Olivia was giggling on her back, legs up like an upside-down cockroach on the floor.

  ‘What?’ said Olivia, this time wiping real tears from her eyes. ‘I knew something was up by the way you’ve been distracted, but I had no idea it was an opportunity this amazing.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Ivy smiled uncertainly.

  ‘Of course!’ Olivia sat up. ‘What’s a few weeks over the summer anyway? You’ll be back in Franklin Grove before either of us knows it.’

  Ivy’s smile fell. ‘The summer? But Olivia, it might be longer than that if the teacher’s assessment –’ Too late.

  Olivia was already out of the room and bounding down the stairs two at a time. ‘Dad! Dad!’ She called to their father, who was just setting his briefcase down in the entryway. ‘I heard the good news! Ivy’s going to super-vamp school. How cool is that? My sister is a super-vampire!’

  Upstairs, Ivy felt anything but super. She sank on to Olivia’s bed. Oh no, Olivia doesn’t totally get it. Ivy could be gone way longer than one summer . . .

  Chapter Nine

  H ere we go, Olivia thought as she studied her notes for the final committee meeting:

  Bales of hay

  Streamers

  Country music

  Anyone know a good line dance?

  She had worn her favourite pink dress, freshly ironed and fitting just right. Olivia usually felt her best in pink and, today, she needed all the confidence she could muster. The committee had been strangely quiet since her announcement of the barn-dance theme. She hadn’t received one call from Jenny and her email inbox was completely empty. Now Olivia was stuck sitting alone in the all-purpose room, waiting for her own meeting to begin. It really was lonely at the top!

  Her cell phone vibrated. It was Jackson! Olivia did the maths in her head. If today was Thursday, then that meant Jackson must be in . . . Utah. She had memorised his itinerary, complete with interesting factoids she could share about each of his destinations. Utah, ‘The Beehive State’. Home to five national parks!

  Olivia answered the phone in a rush of excitement. ‘Jackson! Oh my goodness, I’m beyond thrilled to hear from you.’ She hadn’t realised how much she needed to talk to somebody. ‘I have so much to tell you.’ The words spilled out of her. ‘Wait, where are you?’ There seemed to be a lot of shuffling in the background.

  ‘Um . . .’ Static came over the line. ‘I’m in a restaurant. It’s a competition to help promote the film – a prize draw to go for dinner with the star.’

  ‘You’re eating with a total stranger?’ Olivia shrugged. She didn’t care who got to share nibbles with him, as long as she got to talk to him. ‘Everything with the committee has been going absolutely haywire.’

  ‘Huh?’ Jackson’s voice was distant over the phone, like he might have Olivia on speaker. Ew, she hated being on speakerphone.

  ‘Haywire. It’s been going haywire,’ she shouted, glad the common room was still empty. ‘The committee.’

  ‘Oh right. What committee was that again?’

  Olivia palmed her forehead. ‘Jackson! You know which committee. The dance!’ This conversation was clearly headed for a dead end. She tried switching tacks. ‘Bad news, though: Ivy is leaving for the entire summer.’

  There was a lull on the other end and then Jackson asked, ‘Cool, where are you two going?’

  ‘We? No, Ivy is going, not me. I’m going to have twin-teration anxiety.’ Olivia cringed at her bad joke. She waited again. ‘Jackson?’

  Then Olivia heard something to put a stake through any girl’s heart. ‘’Zis will match ze colour palette much better.’ A girl’s voice, and in a French accent, no less!

  Parlez-vous ‘buzz kill’? thought Olivia drily.

  ‘Hey, Olivia . . .’ Jackson was back on the line. ‘I have to run, sorry. My wardrobe manager wants to show me some pictures of outfits for my appearance.’

  The line went dead and Olivia was left staring at a blank screen. What was going on with Jackson? He had always said he didn’t care about wardrobe as long as he didn’t look ridiculous. The boy actually hated shopping. Sometimes Olivia wondered how they could be such a good match! So why was he discussing outfits when he was meant to be out for dinner with a fan?

  The committee started to file in, something that should have made Olivia feel less lonesome. One of the members hollered an enthusiastic ‘Yeehaw!’ in honour of the barn-dance theme.

  Olivia gave a half-hearted ‘Yeehaw’ in return. But it was tough to be a cheerful cowgirl when she had the boyfriend blues.

  Rather than their usual seats front-and-centre, Lucrezia, Melinda and Veronica took the back row, leaning backwards in their chairs and popping big gobs of green gum. Could they look any less interested? Olivia wondered. She ignored them, put her phone away, and started the meeting.

  ‘Congratulations, you guys!’ Olivia tried to force her peppiest smile. ‘This is our very last committee meeting!’ She had expected cheers, but all she got was radio silence.

  One of Lucrezia’s bubbles made a loud crack and the two other girls giggled.

  Olivia felt her fingernails dig into her skin. ‘Cut it out, you three,’ she snapped.

  Lucrezia stood up, wiping the bubble gum from the corners of her mouth. ‘Who do you think you’re talking to?’ Lucrezia jutted her hip as if daring Olivia to answer. She didn’t. ‘We’re a grade older and it’s about time you learned your place, even if you are the chairperson.’ The three girls started to strut to the front of the room. Was Olivia about to become the Terrible Trio’s next victim . . . in front of everyone? ‘We’ll be taking over from here on in, thank you very much.’

  In the background, Olivia noticed a figure appear in the doorway – Jenny! ‘Excuse me a minute,’ Jenny said, pleasantly but firmly.

  That was so not the Jenny Olivia remembered. Everyone in the room quietened down. Olivia had never seen Jenny so – what was the word? – confident before. Smile in place, Jenny strode up the aisle straight to the front of the room, Charlotte in tow.

  Charlotte sidled up to Olivia. ‘I’ve been giving Jenny a few pep talks. Watch and be amazed.’

  ‘Pep talks?’ Olivia was still trying to process this sudden turn of events.

  ‘Check it out.’ Charlotte opened her tote bag and let Olivia peek inside, where a well-thumbed hardback of Stand Up for Yourself (And Don’t Take any Garbage) was hiding, speckled with a dozen colourful post-its. ‘Taught me everything I know about life.’ Charlotte slid the tote back over her shoulder.

  That book explains Charlotte’s attitude? Olivia didn’t know what to say. Charlotte may have been a bit, ahem, overzealous with her confident attitude in the past, but as Olivia looked at Jenny squaring her shoulders at the Terrible Trio, she thought the strategy seemed to be working quite well for Jenny at least.

  ‘Lucrezia, Melinda, Veronica.’ Jenny’s voice didn’t wobble once. ‘I have news for you. You may not be in charge of the dance. But . . .’ she paused, ‘you can be in charge of the dance refreshments. After all, your drink mixes were to die for last year. The comm
ittee would love you to whip up something similar for the dance this year. How does that sound?’

  ‘You mean it?’ Melinda asked.

  Lucrezia’s perfectly pink lips pulled into a genuine smile. ‘We came up with that recipe all by ourselves last year.’

  Olivia couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. Was that all it took? All this time and the only thing those girls needed to feel valued was an area of responsibility? Olivia had made a rookie mistake, and she was usually so good with people! Why didn’t I think of that? Maybe this whole Jackson issue has been distracting me more than I thought.

  In a snap, Jenny had zapped the problem. She came over to Olivia. ‘I’m sorry for unloading so much responsibility on you. It wasn’t fair, but now I’m here to help. OK?’

  ‘Thank goodness.’ Olivia blew out a sigh of relief.

  ‘Great.’ Olivia noticed that, for the first time, Jenny’s mousy-brown hair was pulled back away from her face. ‘And now that I actually have an opinion, the first thing I can help with is the theme.’ Not this again, thought Olivia. ‘Do you really want to impose a barn-dance theme on everyone?’ Jenny asked. ‘Wouldn’t you rather make sure everyone dressed how they wanted? The whole point was to make sure everyone was happy and comfortable, wasn’t it?’

  ‘You’re right!’ Olivia’s heart sank. ‘Oh my goodness.’ She really had been a dictator. And worse, she hadn’t even been trying!

  ‘May I have your attention?’ Olivia rapped her knuckles on one of the tables, trying not to cringe at the collective groan that rippled through the room. She noticed some of the committee members were already wearing cowboy hats. She didn’t want to disappoint them twice. She took a deep breath. ‘What about a barn dance, but with a pink-and-black theme?’ she proposed. ‘The girly girls can be pretty in pink and the goths can feel included, too. Plus, everyone can have fun with gingham!’