‘I’m so sorry!’ She stumbled back, crinkling her nose at the stench. Has this boy ever showered?
The tall, wiry older boy she’d collided with was as goth as they came – his coat had to weigh more than he did – but he had the same unwashed stench she remembered from Garrick Stephens and the other middle school ‘Beasts’. No, it’s even worse, Olivia realised. It’s a more mature version – so it’s even fouler!
Instead of scowling like one of the Beasts, though, he gave her a smirk that made her take another step backwards.
‘Don’t you worry, sweetie-pie,’ he drawled, in an obviously fake growly voice. ‘You’re not the first girl to have a crush on me.’ His grin deepened. He twitched up the collar of his trench coat under his long, lank, oily-looking hair. ‘. . . And you probably won’t be the last, either. I am a chick magnet.’
Eww! Olivia couldn’t help the shudder that wracked her. ‘Sorry!’ she mumbled. Ducking her head, she hurried past him, ignoring his laughter . . . But it was harder to ignore his smell, which followed her all the way down the path. It seemed to have soaked right into her clothing with the collision.
Now I need another shower, too!
Olivia’s plan had come so close to working . . . only to be ruined at the crucial moment.
Chapter Six
It’s hard to believe, Ivy admitted to herself, but I’m actually starting to like this skatepark .
She was back at the park in Lincoln Vale yet again, doing her job as Sophia’s best friend. Thank darkness, Sophia had finally realised just how silly she’d been over Finn. Ivy couldn’t have been happier or more relieved that Sophia had emerged from that debacle with her heart in one piece . . . But she was definitely changed by it. Ivy shook her head as she looked at the lightning-haired figure zooming down the middle of the skatepark.
Who could ever have imagined that Sophia would turn out to genuinely love skateboarding? Talk about an un-vampire-like activity!
As Ivy watched, Sophia flipped her board up at the end of a spectacular trick that made the older skater-boys all break into spontaneous applause.
At least she’s gotten better at it. Smiling, Ivy shook her head. Two weeks into high school, and elegant goth vampire Sophia was turning into a skateboard master – while Ivy had realised that the skatepark was the only safe place to study! Few of the Lincoln Vale goths loitered here, and the skater-boys had no interest in anything beyond their boards . . . well, and in Sophia, who was currently giving them all tips on how to perform her trick!
For once, Ivy didn’t have a single groupie racing to impress her . . . and she couldn’t have been happier about that. Right now, she really needed to finish her English assignment! Mr Russell wanted them all to read poems out in Friday’s class, and Ivy still hadn’t managed to choose one yet.
Sighing, she forced herself to look away from Sophia’s triumph and go back to flipping through the pages of her textbook. Ivy liked English – well, she liked middle school English, because she’d understood that more – but honestly . . . was every poem in this book written by someone in a seriously bad mood? Not every poet in all of history had been a vampire, had they?
‘Can I sit next to you?’ The goth-girl who’d suddenly appeared at Ivy’s side looked every bit as glum as a vampire poet. Her voice reeked of hopelessness.
Ivy narrowed her eyes. Was this girl a vampire? Her brown eyes looked genuine, not like contact lenses, so probably not. Unfortunately, that still left ‘groupie’ as a serious possibility.
Ivy looked at the rest of the large picnic table and gave up. She didn’t have any good excuses to offer. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘But I’m busy with homework right now.’
‘That’s OK.’ The girl – her name was Penny Taylor, Ivy remembered now, from English class – sat down across from Ivy, dumping her black backpack on the table. It was studded with steel nubs and bleeding heart symbols, and Penny drooped even more as she looked down at it. ‘I like to sit in silence with people,’ she said, sounding miserable. ‘It gives me time to reflect. And to ponder things. Dark things.’
Did she seriously just use the word ‘ponder’ in a sentence? Ivy stopped herself just in time from asking exactly what ‘dark things’ Penny liked to ponder. That had the potential to be death-squint irritating!
Unless . . . She frowned. Was this girl for real, or did she actually have a dry sense of humour? If this super-goth pose was a joke, Ivy could kind of appreciate it. But . . .
‘Look . . .’ Penny sighed heavily. ‘A whole park full of people looking in the other direction.’ She turned to gaze soulfully at Ivy. ‘Do you ever feel that everyone in the world is looking in the other direction?’
Right now, it feels like everyone is looking right at me, Ivy thought. She had to bite down hard on her tongue to keep the words from coming out. Then she twitched with pain. Ouch! Her too-sharp fangs had just drawn blood. She stifled a moan as she put one hand to her cheek.
With a glance at Ivy’s poetry textbook, Penny reached into her backpack and pulled out her own. The front was covered with doodles – headstones and daggers, barbed wire and skulls – and from the shy look Penny gave her, Ivy knew she was supposed to comment on them.
‘Wow, that’s . . . very goth.’ Ivy gave a polite smile. ‘I can certainly tell which gang you belong to at school.’
‘Really?’ Light broke through the mask of misery on Penny’s face. Beaming, she pulled up her shirt sleeve. ‘Here, look! I just got this today.’