“I am indeed!” said Alice. Out of the corner of her mouth, to the girls, she added, “I’ve never been recognized before.”
Olivia and Ivy stared at Alice and their father, totally speechless.
“I’ve always had a passion for our little museum,” he said. “I remember one of your pieces well—the eight-legged clown.”
“It was a mime, actually,” Alice corrected with a smile.
Olivia kicked Ivy under the table. She’s the one!
“Olivia and I have to go the bathroom,” Ivy blurted.
Olivia hurriedly reached into her bag and found a five dollar bill. “Thank you so much, Alice,” she said, slapping the bill on the table. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks,” said Alice.
“Dad, I’ll see you in the car,” Ivy called over her shoulder as she and Olivia rushed to the ladies’ room.
The moment they were inside, Olivia peered under the stalls. They were empty. “Do you think she’s, you know,” Olivia said, “one of you?”
“This is one of our establishments, and she’s wearing black nail polish,” Ivy replied. “So yes!”
“It’s perfect,” declared Olivia. “She’s an artist—”
“And he’s artsy,” finished Ivy, sounding awed.
“I know!” squealed Olivia. “And it sounds like he even likes her art!”
“Let’s invite her over for dinner,” Ivy said quickly.
“Can we do that?” Olivia asked, but her sister was already back out the door. They crept along the bathroom hallway and peeked around the corner to see if Mr. Vega was still in the restaurant.
“He’s gone,” Ivy whispered, and together they made a beeline to where Alice was standing by the cash register.
“Hi, Alice,” they both said.
“Hi, again,” said Alice.
“I’m Ivy, and this is Olivia,” Ivy said. “That guy you were talking to—he’s my father.”
“Really?” Alice said with a glimmer in her eye. “He looks so young!”
“He’s a widower,” Olivia noted.
“Want to come over to our house tomorrow night?” Ivy offered. “You could... talk about...”
“Art?” Olivia suggested.
“Are you girls tugging my wings?” Alice said with a worried look as she twirled her dark ponytail.
Uh-oh, thought Olivia. We’re coming on too strong.
Alice’s mouth burst into a smile. “Because I’d love to!”
Chapter 4
At lunch the next day, Olivia scanned the cafeteria for her friends. She spotted Camilla and Sophia at a table by the windows, hunched over in intense conversation. Looks like they’re still conspiring! Olivia thought, grateful that her friends were continuing to take Ivy’s move so seriously.
“I think,” Camilla said loudly to Sophia as Olivia trotted up, “that the Scribe should run more editorials.”
“I disagree,” Sophia replied. “I think two is enough. Why— Hello, Olivia.”
“Hey,” said Olivia, setting down her tray. I guess they don’t have to conspire all the time, she thought to herself.
Camilla looked at her watch. “Gotta go!” she said. “I have a study session for English.”
“Me, too!” said Sophia. “I, uh...I have to go work on a piece for my art exam.”
“Really?” said Olivia, trying not to sound disappointed that she was being left alone only a few seconds after she’d sat down. “What are you doing?”
“What?” said Sophia.
“What’s the piece you’re working on for your art exam?” Olivia explained.
“It’s a painting...I mean,a photograph. It’s a painting of a photograph?” Sophia said, like she wasn’t sure.
“Still trying to figure it out, huh?” said Olivia. “I know the feeling.”
“Exactly!” said Sophia, lifting her tray. “See you later, Olivia.”
Olivia started eating her strawberry yogurt. She had just pulled out her algebra book and was trying to get some studying done when Charlotte came up with Katie and Allison.
“You’re all alone,” Charlotte moaned, her lower lip pushed out in an exaggerated pout.
“That’s so sad!” said Katie and Allison.
Olivia marveled at how well the two of them could speak in unison.
“You know you can always sit with us, Olivia,” Charlotte said. “Us cheerleaders have to stick together, right?”
“Totally,” said Katie.
“For sure,” said Allison.
“I guess so,” Olivia said after a moment.
“Awesome!” squealed Charlotte. “So you’ll sign our petition?” Katie slapped a piece of paper filled with signatures next to Olivia’s tray. Allison carefully placed a pink pen on top of it.
“Petition for what?” Olivia asked.
“We want to outlaw wearing black to school during the month of December,” Charlotte explained.
“Excuse me?” said Olivia, raising her eyebrows.
“Black is so antiholiday spirit,” said Katie seriously.
“Plus it depresses everyone during exams!” chimed Allison.
Olivia peered over the edge of the table. “What about your shoes?” she asked, pointing to Charlotte’s heeled black loafers.
Katie and Allison gasped dramatically.
“Shoes don’t count,” Charlotte blurted.
“Really?” Olivia eyed the piece of paper beside her tray. “Does this petition say that? Because my favorite winter boots are black.”