Twin Spins!

by Sienna Mercer

  The committee broke into whoops and squealing; a big step up from the ghostly silence following Olivia’s last announcement. As people started texting their friends in excitement, Olivia felt her cheeks blush with a new burst of energy. She was back on track.

  ‘Much better!’ she beamed. ‘Next thing on the list: how would you guys like to come back to my house so that we can hammer out the finer details over pizza? Sound good?’ The room erupted into cheers.

  Olivia led the way out to the parking lot, walking ahead of a pair of girls planning their outfits. ‘OK, which earrings will go best with my pink hat – the pale crystal hoops or the chandelier earrings?’

  With a quick stab, Olivia remembered the French accent in the background during Jackson’s call advising him that something would match the colour palette better. What colour palette? And, more importantly, what could her boyfriend be up to?

  When no one answered at the Abbotts’, Ivy jiggled the doorknob and let herself inside. She wiped her boots on the cheery ‘Welcome’ mat before stepping on to the plush white carpet of the Abbotts’ foyer. If Ivy’s house had a polar opposite, it was Olivia’s. Where the Vega house had curtains made of dark velour, the Abbotts’ drapes boasted a bright floral pattern. And unlike the deep crimson of Ivy’s walls, Olivia’s were painted a pale sky blue. Ivy sometimes wondered how the Abbotts ever got any sleep at all, what with their whole decor theme reminding her of a dazzling summer morning.

  ‘Olivia?’ she said, rounding the corner. ‘Oh. My. Darkness.’ Bunny-mania had taken over the Abbott residence. There were pink-clad girls everywhere! A clump of girls was crowded on to the sofa, squashed one against the other, making paper chains and bunting out of scraps of gingham.

  Ivy was even more shocked to see the Terrible Trio sitting at Olivia’s kitchen table, sipping from etched glass cups and diligently taking notes. Who tamed those beasts? Ivy wondered.

  She spotted Olivia sitting on the floor, surrounded by committee members, patiently making decorations out of hay and pink-and-black papier mâché. Olivia glanced up. ‘Hi!’ She beamed, standing up and picking her way through the various dance-related obstacles. ‘Welcome to the mad house!’

  ‘Olivia, I don’t know how to tell you this, but . . .’ Ivy eyed her sister seriously. ‘There is hay in your home.’

  ‘I know!’ Olivia led her sister into the entryway, one of the only chatter-free zones in the house. ‘Isn’t it crazy? New plan: we’re going to have a pink-and-black theme for the barn dance. Isn’t it perfect? Even you will be happy. Pick any fabulous black outfit in your wardrobe and you can wear it, no problem.’

  Ivy let her head droop to the side. ‘Great,’ she said drily. ‘Thanks for that. I’m, like, so excited to indulge my inner goth.’ Ivy displayed wiggling jazz-hands with zero enthusiasm.

  Olivia’s smile fell. Even her hair looked flatter. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Look, you know I love you and I’m glad you’re having fun on the committee, but honestly, do Brendan and I look like the type of people who would enjoy a school dance?’

  ‘Er, Ivy?’ Olivia chewed her fingertip. ‘I think you might have yourself a Brendan-sized problem.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, don’t you remember how Brendan looked like he’d sucked a lemon drop when you dissed the school dance?’

  Ivy shifted in her boots. ‘Um, yeah, I guess.’ Then something else floated to the front of her memory. She flinched. ‘There might have been another incident.’ Ivy slapped her hands over her eyes, peeking through her fingers at Olivia. ‘There was a phone conversation. Brendan tried to suggest I might enjoy the dance and then . . . oh and then . . . the look on his face at Rebecca’s ranch!’

  ‘What face?’

  ‘A face like I had crushed his thumbs with a hammer. How could I have been so dense? He’s really up for it, isn’t he?’ Kill me now, thought Ivy, only she wasn’t sure if it was because she had hurt Brendan or because she might actually have to attend the dance.

  ‘He cares about you. Hello? Why wouldn’t he want to be seen with you on his arm at the school’s most romantic event ever?’

  That’s it. Olivia’s right. I have to make this up to Brendan. So what if dances weren’t her thing? Her boyfriend was! She climbed over the girls on the floor making miniature cowboy hat name badges.

  Olivia followed behind her, heaving a sigh of pleasure upon seeing the new decorations. ‘I wish I could have a pink rhinestone cowboy hat for the dance. Wouldn’t that be awesome?’

  Ivy was only half-listening. ‘Olivia, I need to borrow your phone. I left mine in my backpack at home.’ With night as my witness, I, Ivy Vega, will make this better.

  ‘Sure, of course,’ Olivia told her.

  Ivy shooed girls away, lifting cushions and searching for Olivia’s purse.

  ‘But, here’s the thing,’ continued Olivia, now in full-on daydream mode. ‘How am I going to organise getting a pink cowboy hat alongside everything else I have to do? It’s impossible!’

  ‘Olivia!’ Ivy flung a cushion on to the floor. ‘One problem at a time, please.’

  ‘Right, sorry.’ Olivia fished through a layer of hay. ‘Found it!’ She held her purse over her head, delivering it to Ivy.

  Ivy’s thumbs punched in her text to Brendan: Will you do me the honour of being my partner at the dance? Love, Ivy. The green bar slid across the bottom of the screen. She almost couldn’t look. Message sent!

  ‘Did I really just do that?’ She stared open-mouthed at the screen.

  Olivia wrapped her arms around Ivy’s stomach and squeezed. ‘Yes, because you really care about Brendan. Admit it.’ She poked her sister. ‘You might just have a bit of fun, too.’

  The phone chirped. The message read: Killer. For sure!

  ‘That’s that.’ Ivy handed the phone back and dusted her hands together. ‘Guess I’m going. But promise me,’ she said, as she scanned the room full of giggling girls, ‘I won’t become like that.’

  Olivia laughed. ‘There is no chance you will ever be like that, silly! Brendan loves you just the way you are.’

  All of this fuss over her relationship with Brendan, and Ivy had completely forgotten that her sister was without her boyfriend. ‘Have you heard from Jackson recently?’

  Olivia frowned. ‘Yes.’

  ‘But . . .’ Ivy prodded her twin.

  ‘But he had a French wardrobe manager with him and had to hang up.’

  By the deathly pale look on her sister’s face, Ivy guessed that the wardrobe manager had sounded a bit too girly for Olivia’s taste. ‘I wish there was something I could do,’ said Ivy, frustrated. ‘Why don’t vampy superpowers come with a boyfriend-summoner? Something that would actually be useful!’

  Olivia smoothed her hair and clothes, straightening her posture. ‘No biggie. I’ll be fine. I’ll have to be if I’m going to spend the whole summer without you, as well as without Jackson.’

  The summer? Ivy stared at her toes, wanting to tell Olivia the truth. It could be more than a summer: a lot more. Ivy scuffed her boot on the floor. She might not be able to avoid going away herself, but maybe there was something else she could do . . .

  Chapter Ten

  Olivia blinked against the sunlight pouring in through the slats in her whitewashed shutters. She peeled her head off the pillow, bleary-eyed. Yesterday had been exhausting. Olivia wouldn’t care if she never saw another pink-and-black paper chain in her life – or at least until tonight. Her vision came into focus and her breath caught.

  At the foot of her bed was a pair of pink cowboy boots, the exact same as the pair she’d been dreaming about. Wait – am I still asleep? The boots had loopy white embroidery and perfectly pointed toes. She rubbed her eyes . . . and the boots were still there! Pushing back the down comforter she reached for the soft pink leather. They were real! Tucking them under her arm, she ran downstairs to the kitchen, where her parents were sipping coffee and sharing a newspaper.

  ‘Who put
these in my bedroom?’ Olivia held out the pink cowboy boots like she was presenting a prized possession for ‘show and tell’.

  Her mother batted her eyes, sharing an exaggerated shrug with her father. ‘Why, I have no idea. It has nothing to do with us.’

  It looked like her parents could use a few acting lessons. Olivia could see right through their innocent façade, but before she could question them any further she heard the sound of her perky ringtone coming from upstairs.

  ‘Hold that thought,’ she told her parents, racing back to her bedroom. She answered her phone, breathless. ‘Hello?’

  ‘How do you like the boots?’ asked a deep, dreamy voice on the other end.

  ‘Jackson!’ Of course! ‘How did you know to buy me pink boots? I was just dreaming about them and now, here they are . . . in my room!’ Olivia was beginning to think that acting wasn’t his only area of expertise. Perhaps her boyfriend was a mind reader, too.

  ‘I had them couriered over. Thought you’d like something special for the dance.’

  ‘But how . . . but how . . .’ Olivia sucked in her breath. ‘Did my sister call you?’

  ‘Oh, Olivia.’ She could picture Jackson’s eyes twinkling with laughter. ‘You sure are slow on the uptake sometimes.’

  Olivia made a mental note to give her sister a bone-crushing hug for this. ‘There’s only one more thing that would make this dance complete.’ Well, other than the rhinestone hat. Not that she would mention that to Jackson.

  ‘And what would that be?’ asked Jackson, still chuckling.

  Olivia walked by the mirror, saw her hair sticking up at crazy angles, and immediately ducked. Thank goodness her hot boyfriend couldn’t see her with bed-head!

  She recovered, remembering with a sad sigh that Jackson was a safe distance away in Utah. ‘If I had my boyfriend as my date,’ she finished. There wasn’t a peep on the line. Olivia could hear her own breath echoing through the receiver. ‘Jackson? Hello, Jackson!’

  ‘Olivia, the promo tour has been extended. I’m so sorry, but I’ve been invited to a live TV interview in Boston and I couldn’t turn it down. I don’t know what to say. You understand, right? That’s why I bought the boots, to make it up to you.’

  The boots were beautiful, but they didn’t stop Olivia’s heart from dropping down into her slippers. ‘Is that why you had a wardrobe manager with you the other day when we talked?’

  ‘Er . . . yes, yes – that’s exactly it.’ Olivia heard shuffling around on Jackson’s end. ‘Hey, Olivia?’ He sounded distracted now. Olivia knew his distracted voice. ‘I have to go. We’ll talk later, OK? Bye!’

  Olivia didn’t even get to say ‘goodbye’ before the dialling tone was droning in her ear. ‘Talk to you later,’ she mumbled to no one, letting the phone slip on to her mattress. Fat, salty tears started to pool on her eyelids. Her boyfriend was doing everything right. He remembered to phone. He sent presents. So why do I feel so wretched? Olivia wondered.

  The phone rang again and Olivia picked it up, hoping it was Jackson ringing her back. It wasn’t.

  ‘Don’t sound so happy to hear from me,’ said Ivy.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Olivia, flopping on to her cool sheets. ‘I thought you were someone else.’

  ‘Jackson?’

  ‘Maybe.’ Olivia stared up at the ceiling and wiped the last few tears from the corners of her eyes. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘I was wondering if you wanted some help getting everything ready for the dance. I think it’s going to be deadly. I mean it!’

  Olivia felt another lump rise in her throat. ‘That’s, like, the kindest thing anyone’s ever offered to do for me,’ she blurted.

  Ivy laughed. ‘I think you’re just feeling a little fragile today, but, either way, there isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be. Not only will we get all the decorations for the dance up on time, but I will personally make sure that we both manage to look drop dead.’

  Olivia hung up the phone, feeling a glow of warmth for her sister. After all this preparation, she couldn’t believe it – it was nearly time for the dance!

  As she and Olivia got closer to Franklin Grove, it was as if every fibre of Ivy’s vampire-being was rebelling against the very idea of a school dance. Ivy stared out the window of her dad’s shiny black sedan, feeling seriously grave about the prospect of doing any dancing at all.

  She had spent the day – a whole day – helping Olivia get herself and the dance ready. Of course, Ivy wanted to do everything she could to cheer her sister up. After all, Olivia thought her boyfriend didn’t care about her. But Ivy had to confess that spending the day with her hair in rollers while hanging bunting and tying balloons was going above and beyond the call of duty.

  Olivia drummed her cerise-painted nails on the back seat. The tiny diamante stickers she’d applied on top of the polish shimmered in the dim light.

  ‘It’s going to be fine.’ Ivy examined her own nails. She’d opted for a more classic goth black.

  ‘I know, I know.’ A worried crease formed at the top of Olivia’s nose. ‘I just want everyone to have a good time!’

  ‘They will!’ Ivy assured her. Olivia eyed her sister and Ivy knew Olivia was particularly sceptical about her attitude. ‘Even me!’ Ivy exclaimed. ‘I mean, look at me.’

  Ivy had zipped home to change before picking up Olivia, and was now dressed in skinny black jeans, a black-and-white gingham shirt with patch pockets, a black cowboy hat, and an authentic leather shoestring tie around her neck. Ivy had embraced the theme and put her own spin on it, just like Olivia had wanted.

  ‘You’re the best gothic cowgirl I’ve ever seen!’ Olivia nodded approvingly.

  ‘I’m the only gothic cowgirl you’ve ever seen.’

  ‘Still! OK, how do I look?’ Olivia pouted her lips and turned her head from side to side for Ivy to examine.

  ‘Fluffy?’ Ivy admired the pink cowgirl outfit. Olivia wore a puffy, layered ra-ra skirt that Ivy wouldn’t be caught dead in, but it looked très cute on her sister. Olivia’s shirt was knotted at the front and her hair was tied into pigtails with two puffy pink hairbands. ‘And your boots, they totally make the outfit!’

  ‘You think so?’ Olivia beamed. ‘After all that Hollywood glamour, it’s sort of nice to dress up in an outfit that’s actually fun.’

  That much Ivy could agree with. Although she had adored her outfit for the awards ceremony – a gorgeous black kimono embroidered with delicate red dragons – she had felt a bit constricted. She would take jeans over a fitted gown any day.

  Mr Vega edged the sedan’s wheels up to the curb. ‘You girls both look stunning. Ivy, coffin by ten, OK?’

  But Ivy was distracted. She had spotted Brendan standing in front of the school’s gates, right between the big iron initials ‘F’ and ‘G’. He strode towards the car in his shiny black cowboy boots and slender grey slacks. Ivy had never seen her boyfriend look so tall, dark and drop-dead handsome. He opened the door and, like a true gentleman, helped both Ivy and Olivia out of the car.

  ‘This is for you.’ He presented a corsage to Ivy made of deep purple . . . thistle! Even she had to admit, it was perfect. He helped pin it to her gingham shirt and then held out the crook of his arm so that Ivy could slip her hand through.

  The other arm he extended to Olivia, and together the three of them walked into the crowd of students dressed in pink-and-black cowboy outfits. Ivy squeezed Brendan’s arm. Olivia has totally pulled it off! She peeked around Brendan. Does Olivia look OK? Ivy didn’t want her sister to feel lost without Jackson, but from the moment Brendan opened the school’s doors, Olivia was surrounded by a swarm of adoring classmates.

  ‘This theme is the best!’ said a red-handkerchiefed boy, patting Olivia on the back.

  ‘Oh my goodness, have you seen the bales of hay in the hall?’ Ivy recognised Jenny from the committee. ‘You just have to! Come on!’

  Ivy was amazed to discover that Olivia had her own mini paparazzi. If only Jackson could see his girlfrie
nd in action! Olivia led the way into the assembly hall and both twins gasped. It looked even better than when they had left to get changed. The gingham bunting was now hanging from the rafters and dance-goers were filtering in beneath a pink-and-black balloon arch. Inside the hall, everyone was sitting on hay bales and a country-and-western band was playing. Olivia had covered every detail, from floor to ceiling.

  ‘I can’t believe you managed to tame the beasts.’ Ivy pointed to Lucrezia, Melinda and Veronica. They were busy handing out berry-bright fruit punch, no attitude included.

  ‘Actually, that was Jenny’s idea.’ Olivia had her hands on her hips as she surveyed the rest of the transformed dance hall.

  Ivy shrugged. It was hard to be a gothic grump when everyone was having so much fun. Ivy had better be careful that she didn’t let a ‘Yeehaw!’ slip out accidentally. Even better was the fact that Olivia seemed delighted, despite the fact that Jackson was a no-show. Ivy felt the familiar stab of guilt. How delighted will Olivia be when she finds out I might be away for more than the summer? Ivy tried to bury the thought.

  ‘May I have the honour of this dance?’ Brendan offered his hand with a flourish.

  Ivy bit her lip, glancing in the direction of her sister, who was trying out the hay bales with a group of girls from the committee.

  ‘Olivia’s fine! Come on!’ He took her hand and dragged Ivy out on to the dance floor. In perfect step with the music, Brendan twirled her and circled in an excellent version of a do-si-do.

  ‘Where did you pick up these moves?’ asked Ivy. Her dark hair was flying and she was spinning, spinning, spinning until she was dizzy. If Ivy wasn’t mistaken, she was actually having – gasp! – fun. That was the last thing she’d expected.

  Brendan pulled Ivy closer, looking a bit sheepish as he stared down at her. ‘Er, I might have been practising the country dancing your Aunt Rebecca taught me.’