Avisrova shot her a death squint that it would have taken Ivy herself years to master. ‘You will be punished for that,’ she barked. ‘But don’t worry. This school will train the insolent American ways right out of you, Ivy Lazar.’ Miss Avisrova glared down her nose at Ivy. ‘You will report to me at the end of the day. I will be very surprised if either of us get any supper tonight.’
Before Ivy could stop herself, she blurted out, ‘What is this, Oliver Twist ?’
Loud scoffs sounded around the room and Ivy caught more than a few sneers on the faces of her classmates. She sighed. Today is not off to a good start.
‘Oh my darkness, and then you were all like, “What is this, Oliver Twist ?”’
Ivy groaned. Petra was skipping alongside her after class, quoting back Ivy’s run-in with Miss Avisrova for the umpteenth time. They passed the trophy case filled with polished bronze medals, plaques and trophies, awarded for everything from rugby to fencing to spelling bees.
‘I know, I was there,’ Ivy reminded Petra.
A girl with a red-and-black headband and silky brown hair patted her on the back. ‘Good show, Ivy.’ She flashed a grin.
Another student with glitzy diamond stud earrings and a fitted blazer came up and shook Ivy’s hand in the hall. ‘I’ve got to say, you’re pretty brave – if not a bit reckless.’
Ivy bit back a laugh. She didn’t want to offend anyone, but if they thought that was reckless, these girls wouldn’t last a day at Franklin Grove Middle School. And that’s just an ordinary, run-of-the-mill suburban school!
Ivy was about to say as much when she saw Petra peering starry-eyed through the open door of a classroom. Ivy followed her gaze to where a crowd of boys, all dressed in smart black blazers and red ties, were sitting on desks and tossing paper aeroplanes at one another before class.
‘What are you –’
‘Come here!’ Petra pulled Ivy away from her new fan club and into an alcove at the end of the hall. ‘Check it out,’ she said, digging her notebook out of a leather cross-body satchel. Petra flipped through a few pages before folding back half the notebook and holding it up for Ivy to see.
Inside, Petra had doodled a picture of a boy and a girl perched side-by-side on a coffin while holding hands. In curling script, she’d labelled the girl ‘Me’ and the boy ‘Etan’. Hearts wrapped themselves around the border of the drawing, coloured in with red ink. Petra must have a serious crush!
‘Cool sketches,’ said Ivy, running her fingers over the page.
‘That’s not all. The best bit is the poem,’ Petra explained, turning the page. Ivy scanned the lines of writing, catching words like ‘burning’, ‘passion’, and ‘darling’.
A love poem? Ivy thought. It was a little cheesy for her taste.
‘I’ve never been able to write my poetry in class before.’ Petra hugged the notebook to her chest. ‘The teachers are always way too eagle-eyed. But while you were keeping Avisrova occupied in the lesson today, I got to pen this! I’m sticking close to you!’ She squeezed Ivy’s arm.
‘Um . . . thanks?’ said Ivy. She was glad she could help Petra, but she hadn’t planned on annoying a teacher so soon after arriving at the Academy, and she wasn’t sure she cared much about giving Petra opportunities to write silly love poems. Still, she thought, at least someone can see a bright side to me getting detention!
Petra stuffed her notebook back in her satchel and pulled out her phone to check the time. ‘We’ve got five minutes until class. We better get going.’
Together, they stepped outside on to the lush Wallachia grounds. The grass sparkled with dew and Ivy took a deep breath, enjoying the aroma of the gardenia bushes that lined the stone walkway. All around them, young vampire students were lounging under shady oak trees, propped up against the trunks highlighting textbooks. Others were running around the lawn tossing frisbees. The scene looked like something out of one of those teen prep-school dramas Olivia watched on TV.
Petra and Ivy headed towards the school hall, where choir practice was due to start.
‘See that over there?’ asked Petra. ‘That’s the Gauntlet.’ Petra pointed towards a hill that sloped away from the girls’ dormitory before ending in a dense forest, filled with tall pines and broadleaved evergreens. Poison ivy writhed up tree trunks and red berries hung heavily from bushes. The forest floor was dense with leaves and nasty patches of nettles squatted at the base of tree trunks, waiting to sting anyone walking past.
Ivy stopped walking, cupping her hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun. ‘What’s a gauntlet?’
‘The Gauntlet,’ Petra corrected her. ‘It’s what Wallachia Academy uses to keep girls and boys apart outside of lesson time. Haven’t you noticed that the only time we see the boys is when they’re on their way back to their dorm rooms or from their lessons? The Gauntlet is what separates our living quarters.’
The forest was dark and thick. Ivy didn’t know how someone could see more than two centimetres in front of their face in there, much less sneak through for a romantic tryst. The school board at Wallachia Academy really don’t want the girls and boys mixing! Ivy thought. What was the problem? If she’d been kept apart from Brendan like that back in Franklin Grove . . . Ivy shuddered. She didn’t want to think about it. She might have been hundreds of miles away from her boyfriend right at that moment, but she knew they’d be reunited one day soon – and there wouldn’t be any stupid Gauntlet to keep them apart.