But Sophia didn’t even go to the snack aisle.
Olivia followed her past paper towels and laundry detergent to the back of the store. They stopped in front of a scruffy stock boy with jet-black hair and a nose ring, who was stacking cases of cranberry juice on a cart.
Out of nowhere, Sophia said, “Pumpernickel.” Well, that’s a lame meeting snack, thought Olivia. Without even looking at them, the boy silently pulled a key from a chain that hung from his belt loop and unlocked a gray door marked STAFF ONLY. Sophia walked through, and Olivia hustled after her.
This is weird, thought Olivia.
They started down an impossibly steep, dimly lit staircase. There was no handrail, and Olivia was scared she’d trip over her boots. Sophia barreled down fearlessly ahead of her.
Clearly this thing was a total secret, Olivia decided. But what kind of dance required a hush-hush meeting in the basement of a supermarket? The only thing Olivia could think of was a TV special she’d seen about some girls in Europe who threw massive raves in warehouses. All their planning was top secret because the cops were always trying to bust them.
My mom will never let me go to this dance, thought Olivia with a tinge of disappointment.
The stairs led to a long, narrow hallway. The girls passed an unmarked door, behind which Olivia could have sworn a crowd of people was laughing and talking. Finally, after squeezing past a stack of chairs, they reached the end of the hall and another nondescript door.
Sophia pushed it open, and Olivia was surprised to find herself in a room that looked a lot like the conference room at her dad’s old office: dry-erase board, pukey beige carpet, black imitation-leather office chairs. The only real difference was the huge round stone table in the center of the room.
There were some Goths standing around drinking cherry punch. A serious-looking girl with chunky glasses was organizing papers on the table.
“Hi, Soph,” said a girl wearing a studded collar. She nodded at Olivia. “Hey, Ivy. I can’t believe you actually came.”
Olivia had no idea what the girl’s name was. She shifted uncomfortably.
Luckily, the girl in the chunky glasses cleared her throat in an official way and bailed Olivia out by saying, “We’re five minutes late. Let’s get started.”
Olivia was already lowering herself into a seat when she noticed that everyone else was simply standing behind their chairs. She jerked herself back up.
The room was silent. The girl in charge held her hands above the table like she was warming them over a fire and closed her eyes. “May the Secret be cloaked in darkness,” she said solemnly.
“And never see light of day,” the group responded as one.
Olivia was baffled. This must be the weird sense of humor Ivy was talking about, she thought. She hoped no one had noticed that she hadn’t joined in. They were now all sitting down, so she quickly slipped into her chair.
“Okay, people,” the girl began. “We only have three weeks to pull off Franklin Grove’s two hundred and second annual All Hallows’ Ball, and I’m determined to make it the best one ever. This is the first of three planning committee meetings. Today we need to decide on the theme and who’s going to be responsible for—”
She was interrupted by raucous laughter in the hallway, and suddenly the door swung open. In slouched four boys with dirty-looking hair and heavy metal T-shirts.
It was the boys who had cornered Olivia in the hall at school, the ones Ivy called the Beasts. Olivia clutched her backpack nervously underneath the table. It’s okay, she told herself. Ivy isn’t scared of them.
“What a surprise!” the girl leading the meeting said coolly. “You guys are late.”
“Sorry, Melissa,” said one Beast sarcastically as he and his friends grabbed seats. “We had to, uh, grab a bite.”
The other Beasts guffawed dumbly, but everyone else just groaned.
“You wish,” said a girl with a streak of white in her hair.
“As I was saying,” Melissa snapped, calling the meeting back to order. “The first thing we need to do is pick a theme. Let’s brainstorm.”
People started calling out ideas. A boy with a shaved head said, “What about a costume ball?”
“Or a forest party?” suggested the girl with the white streak. “Like where everybody dresses up as trees and things? We could do it in the woods.”
“The Ball of the Future?”
“What if everybody had to wear something purple?”
“I once went to a sweet sixteen where there was an ice cream bar, and people were seriously into it.”
“I know! What about Franklin Grove Star Search?”
Melissa did not look impressed.
Oh, my gosh, Olivia thought suddenly, I have the best idea! “How about a vampire theme?” she blurted. “You could do coffins instead of tables, and spiderwebs and bats hanging everywhere. And . . . ooh, you could even get a big projector and show that old Dracula movie—you know, the black-and-white one with that Bela guy? And someone could take black-and-white photographs of all the guests!”
Nobody spoke for a long time. At last the boy with the shaved head said, “So you want to perpetuate the stereotype?”
Huh? thought Olivia.
“No, Ivy’s onto something . . .” Melissa decided, nodding slowly. “Retro is in.”
“Can you imagine? Everyone in fangs and capes and stuff?” mused the girl with the streak of white hair. “That would be deadly.”
“I agree,” said the girl with the studded collar, turning to Olivia. “This idea really sucks, Ivy.”