Just as she’d practised, Ivy kept her gaze fixed on her locker up ahead, where Brendan, Olivia and Sophia were waiting. Before she could take two steps, though, two clingy goth-girls came racing towards her.
‘Wasn’t the homework boring, Ivy?’
‘What did you do last night? I bet it was cool.’
‘Of course it was cool. Ivy’s always cool!’
‘I wish I was like you, Ivy!’
Normally, Ivy would have panicked as they plucked at her sleeves and blocked her in every direction. This time, though, she had to restrain a burst of incredulous laughter. It was almost eerie how good Sophia and Holly’s impression of these girls had been.
I think I’ve had this conversation before, Ivy thought. Over a dozen times before, actually!
Holding back a smile, she forced her forehead to crease. She glanced at her watch.
Almost imperceptibly, the two girls began to shift back, automatically starting to make space for her to leave, even as they kept on talking.
‘Are you ready for the poetry reading in English?’
‘I can’t wait to hear what you chose!’
Ivy’s mind went blank. Then she bit back a groan. Oh, no! I was supposed to choose a poem to read today! She’d been so busy doing her hallway homework, she’d forgotten all about finishing her English homework.
She shrugged, trying to look impatient instead of horrified. ‘I’ll have something by the time class starts.’
‘Ooh.’ The two girls fluttered back, eyes wide. ‘You’re so cool. I could never wing it so close to show time.’
‘I’ve been agonising all week!’
‘Oh, well, I’m sure it’ll be fine.’ Carefully keeping her nose – but not her chin! – in the air, Ivy walked forwards with subtle determination. Just don’t laugh! she ordered herself.
It was hard not to laugh, though, as the two goths fell into a heated debate over their own poetry choices.
‘Do you think I should have gone for “Angry Soul” instead of “Wilting Roses”?’
‘All I know is, I’m going to kill with my choice: “Coffin of Confidence!”’
Looking at her watch, Ivy swept forwards . . . and just like in the rehearsal, the goth-girls cleared a path.
Ivy let out a silent cheer. I made it past Stage One! Now . . . She slid a glance forwards. Yup. It’s time for Stage Two: the dumb skater-boy. Game on!
One of Finn’s friends took up most of the hallway ahead of her, sweeping out his arms and legs to show off his “killer” moves. ‘And then I went – whoosh! – up that wall and I turned a flip like this . . .’
He flipped in mid-air and nearly knocked over two bunnies. Remember your objective, Ivy lectured herself as she started towards him. Don’t scowl, don’t sigh, don’t huff, don’t . . . huh?
Penny Taylor had just jumped in front of her, dressed in a very long black coat.
Wait a minute, Ivy thought. This wasn’t part of the script. I haven’t rehearsed this!
Penny’s eyes looked huge with misery. Her gaze skittered over three goths who were leaning against the wall of lockers nearby, obviously listening in, and her shoulders hunched. She whispered, ‘Um . . . can I talk to you, Ivy? Please?’
Ivy gritted her teeth. So much for the plan! ‘Oh, fine,’ she muttered. ‘If you must.’
Penny flinched as if she’d been slapped and Ivy winced, suddenly realising what she’d done. Uh-oh. I wasn’t supposed to be mean today!
‘Of course you can talk to me,’ she said warmly. She wrapped one arm around Penny’s shoulders, feeling the tension vibrating through the other girl. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s just . . .’ Penny slid her a nervous glance. ‘You know our English class? This morning?’
‘Yeah.’ Ivy had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. Was there anyone at this school who wasn’t eager to remind her that she hadn’t done her homework?
‘Well . . .’ Penny bit her lip. ‘Did you have any particular Pall Bearers song in mind? To read?’
‘Uh . . .’ Ivy grimaced. ‘Look, to be totally honest –’
‘Oh, don’t worry!’ Penny’s words rushed out as her eyes flew wide. ‘I would never read the one you were planning on! No matter which one it is.’ She grasped Ivy’s arm with a feverish look in her eye. ‘You know, I really won’t read any of their lyrics if it’s going to offend you. I would never do that!’
Gently, Ivy tried to detach Penny’s fingers from her arm. ‘Look, the Pall Bearers aren’t really your thing, are they?’
‘Of course they are!’ Penny gave an anguished look at the watching goths. ‘I mean, every goth loves the Pall Bearers, right? So, I do, too! It’s just, I know you’re a really big fan – I don’t mind the keyboards either, by the way! – and I would never step on your toes. That’s why I wanted to check.’
Ivy sighed. ‘I’m not reading any of the Pall Bearers’ lyrics, Penny. The whole CD collection is yours, free and clear.’
‘Oh. Well. That’s a relief, I suppose.’ Penny’s shoulders slumped. She stepped out from underneath Ivy’s arms, looking more miserable than ever. ‘So, I will read Pall Bearers lyrics, then.’ She sighed. ‘See you there?’
‘Yup.’ Ivy watched Penny walk away, goth-perfect in her long black trench coat . . . and slumped. She couldn’t take this any longer. ‘Penny?’ she called out.