‘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.