Switched (7 page)

“No,
you’ll
go on the date,” Olivia said, grinning. “I’ll go to the meeting!”

“Oh!”
Ivy said, sounding shocked. Then she shook her head. “I think it’s one of those
meetings where a cheerleader might stick out, though.”

Ivy
was clearly confused, so Olivia had no choice but to speak extra slowly. “There
will be two Ivy’s, you dork,” she explained. “Impostor Ivy—that’s me—will go to
the meeting with Sophia. Real Ivy—that’s you—will go to the mall with Brendan.”

Ivy
silently studied the leaf in her hands for a long moment. Finally, she looked
up. “I know you’re trying to help, Olivia.” She sighed. “But it won’t work.
This meeting will be all Goths. And even if you could get by everyone else, you’ll
never make it past Sophia.”

“If
you can fool Charlotte, I can fool Sophia,” said Olivia confidently.

“She’s
my oldest friend,” countered Ivy.

“Don’t
underestimate me,” Olivia pleaded. “Just because I’m a cheerleader that doesn’t
mean I don’t know all about Goths. I’m like the number one vampire novel fan in
middle school today. I’ve read every Count Vira book four times. I promise, I’ll
fit right in.”

Ivy
laughed uncomfortably.

“All
right, class,” Mr. Strain’s voice wafted across the field. “Time’s almost up!”

“Say
you’ll do it,” Olivia said intently.

“I
want to, Olivia. But . . .”

Olivia
took her hands. “Ivy, I swear to you as your twin sister that if you don’t go
on this date, you will never forgive yourself. The boy you like likes you. He
likes
you
. The only thing that will definitely ruin that is if you blow
him off.”

“But
what will we talk about?” Ivy asked desperately. “Somehow I don’t think asking
about the ‘latest’ is going to work in this situation.”

“I’ll
help you,” Olivia said firmly. She was not going to take no for an answer. “You’ll
be fine, just like you were at lunch.”

Ivy
was silent.

“Girls!”
Mr. Strain called.

“Say
you’ll do it,” Olivia whispered.
“Please.”

Ivy
blinked. “Okay,” she said, a smile creeping onto her face as she squeezed
Olivia’s hand. “But
I
get to wear my black velvet sneakers.”

Olivia
used Ivy’s cell phone to call her mother as soon as the final bell rang, and
told her that she was going to Ivy’s house after school. This was technically
true, because twenty minutes later, Olivia stood with Ivy at the base of a
willow tree–lined driveway that led up a small hill. At the top was a house
that looked like something out of
Gone with the Wind.
It had windows
that were about fifteen feet tall and a columned front porch that spanned the
front of the house.

Ivy
started up the drive.

“This
is your house?” said Olivia. She thought of the two-story brick house her
family had just moved into on the other side of Franklin Grove. Olivia really
liked their new house—her bedroom was at least twice the size of her old one—but
this place was a total mansion.

“Yeah,”
Ivy said. “Why?”

“It’s
nice,” said Olivia, shaking gravel out of one of her flip-flops.

They
hustled up the hill and climbed the sweeping front steps. A huge lantern of
dark red glass hung above the porch, flickering even though it was day. Ivy
paused before turning the burnished brass knob on the ornately carved oak front
door. “Stay here for a sec.” She disappeared inside.

From
where she stood beside a pile of firewood taller than she was, Olivia could see
almost all Franklin Grove below her. It looked beautiful with houses poking up
among the trees. She spotted the roof of the school in the distance.

Ivy
reappeared. “Come on,” she said, pulling Olivia inside. “My dad’s not home.”

Olivia’s
eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light. The entryway was huge, with walls
covered in interlocking patterns of stone and dark mahogany. She could just
make out an extravagant staircase snaking up to the second floor; a window
above it was shrouded by thick dark velvet curtains.

Apparently,
Ivy’s not the only black sheep in her family,
Olivia thought.
This place is
Goth heaven!

Olivia
followed her sister past a suit of armor and down a twisting flight of stone
steps. A series of electric candelabra lit the way. They came to a landing and
turned a corner.

Suddenly
Olivia found herself at the top of a staircase. To her left was a window
covered with a heavy velvet curtain, which Olivia realized must be set just
above ground level. As she followed Ivy down the stairs, the wall to her right
fell away to offer a clear view of the spacious basement room below.

In the
center of the stone floor was a huge, round, cream-colored rug. Tall mahogany
shelves crammed with papers and books took up the far wall. In one corner was a
huge desk with a computer and toppling stacks of CDs; in another was a big
black bed strewn with funky pillows. Black shoes littered the floor everywhere,
looking like fallen bats. “This is the coolest room I have ever seen!” Olivia
admitted as she reached the bottom.

“Thank
you,” said Ivy, sounding pleased.

Olivia
turned around and noticed some words written in big black calligraphy on the
stones that ran down the side of the stairway: “The matter is that I never get
any rest, and my nights devour my days.”

“That
is so weird,” she murmured. “That’s from the Guy de Maupassant story I read in
the library today. I even told Brendan to read it!”

“
The
Horla
? ” Ivy responded. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”

“That’s
exactly what I told him.” Olivia grinned.Then she noticed the largest wardrobe
she had ever seen, made of ornately carved mahogany. It had five doors, one of
which hung open. Necklaces and purses glimmered in the dim light.

Olivia
charged over, flinging open the doors. There were racks upon racks of sweaters,
skirts, tops, and dresses in every imaginable shade of black, purple, sapphire,
and claret, with occasional flashes of emerald and gray. There was one section
filled with more black shoes and boots.

“I
knew we had something in common,” Olivia said excitedly as she took inventory.

She
immediately pulled out a long-sleeved, lightweight, V-necked top in a rich wine
red with slashed sleeves. “Can I try this on?” she asked.

Ivy
stood looking in the mirror, examining the outfit her sister had helped her
choose for her first date with Brendan. She hadn’t worn this sweater in ages,
but she had to admit that Olivia was right—she looked drop-dead in it. Olivia
had also picked out a formfitting, long black skirt that Ivy hadn’t even known
she owned.

“What
do you think of this?” Olivia said behind her, referring to her latest
creation. She was wearing a black baby tee that said KILL ME SOFTLY in gray
Gothic letters and a black chiffonand-velvet-striped skirt. It must have been
the sixth outfit she’d tried.

“Now
that
,”
said Ivy, “looks like me.” Olivia inspected herself in the mirror. “Let’s

accessorize,”
she decided. She went down to the end of the wardrobe and came back with an
armful of jangly, strappy things. She carefully handed Ivy some silver bangles
and a pair of big silver hoop earrings, saying, “I can’t believe you wear
clip-ons,” to which Ivy just shrugged. For herself, she’d chosen a black velvet
choker.

Ivy
sprayed some Pale Beauty on Olivia’s face, and then they crowded side by side
in the mirror to finish their makeup. They both chose the same dark maroon
lipstick.

Ivy
glanced at her chunky watch and shot her sister a pained look. “You have to
meet Sophia at school in fifteen minutes, and I still don’t know what I’m
supposed to talk to Brendan about.”

“Okay,”
Olivia said, hurrying to finish applying her eyeliner. “Want to know the secret
to an awesome first date?”

Ivy
nodded impatiently.

“Ask
questions. Get him to talk about himself: his family, his friends, what
he
likes.”
Ivy thought,
That’s it?
and looked at Olivia skeptically.

“It’s
all about getting to know each other,” explained Olivia. “And, if he’s really
boyfriend material, he’ll ask you some questions, too.”

Ivy
got nervous. “What will I do if that happens?”

“Talk.
Tell the truth. Tell him about what you like and what drives you crazy. The
only thing you might want to leave out is your brand-new, cheerleading twin
sister. That might freak him out.”

“No
kidding,” Ivy said, rolling her eyes. “That should be the number one rule of
romance: no secret twin sister revelations until at least the third date.”

Olivia
giggled and stuffed her clothes into Ivy’s fuzzy black backpack. “And remember,”
she said, slinging on the bag, “even if you’re not the perky fashion victim,
you could try smiling once or twice.”

Ivy
heard a door slam upstairs. “My dad’s home.” She winced. “And I don’t think now’s
really the right time to introduce you to him. No offense.”

“I’m
not going to tell my parents about you either,” said Olivia, “at least not
before we figure a few things out for ourselves.”

Ivy
nodded. “We’d better sneak out the window,” she said. She led Olivia up the
staircase and threw aside the curtain.

“This
is so secret agent.” Olivia giggled as Ivy pushed her out into the backyard.

A
minute later, they’d reached the bottom of the driveway. “So what’s this
meeting I’m going to?” Olivia asked.

“I’m
not completely sure,” admitted Ivy. “Sophia is constantly signing me up for
clubs and stuff. I think she didn’t want to tell me, because she knew I wouldn’t
like it.”

They
took the shortcut through the woods behind a neighbor’s house.

“Whatever
you do,” Ivy instructed as they marched down the leaf-covered path, “don’t look
happy to be there. No perkiness, no enthusiasm, no ‘Hi, guys!’ You do any of
that, and they’ll eat you alive.”

“Got
it. Where’s the meeting going to be?”

“I’m
not sure. I know it’s not at school though. It will probably just be a bunch of
”—Ivy hesitated—“Goths debating something.”

Suddenly
Ivy started to have second thoughts.
What if somebody says something that
makes Olivia suspicious?
She stopped at a fork in the path. “Anyway,” she said
nervously, “don’t pay too much attention to anything anyone says. At all.”

Olivia
looked at her in confusion.

“You
know, b-because,” Ivy stammered, “Goths can have really strange . . . uh . . .
senses of humor.”

“Okay,”
Olivia said, and shrugged.

“I’m
going this way to the mall.” Ivy gestured down one path. “Keep going straight,
and you’ll end up back on the field behind school. You’re meeting Sophia by the
front doors.”

They
hugged. “You’re going to be irresistible!” said Olivia.

“Don’t
do anything I wouldn’t do,” Ivy answered. “Seriously.” Then she hurried off
down the path to the mall, determined not to throw up at any point during her
first date with Brendan Daniels—even on the escalator.

Bring
on the Goths!
thought
Olivia.

“You’re
late,” said Sophia, charging up with her black scarf swinging. “I’ve been out
of the photo lab for twenty minutes already. You weren’t trying to back out on
me, were you?”

“No,”
said Olivia, making sure she didn’t bounce. “I just ran home to change. And I couldn’t
find my”—she hesitated and Sophia peered at her skeptically—“my fuzzy backpack,”

Olivia
finished.

Sophia’s
mouth dropped open. “You mean
my
fuzzy backpack that you borrowed and
never returned!”

Oops
. “I guess that’s the one,” Olivia
said hoarsely.

“Well,”
said Sophia, “it
is
a killer fashion statement. You look deadly.”

“Thank
you,” said Olivia.

“So
let’s
go
.” Sophia pushed her toward the sidewalk. “I don’t want to be
late!”

So
far, so good,
Olivia
thought with a rush of relief. If she could make it to the meeting without arousing
Sophia’s suspicions, everything else would be easy.

They
cut across the school parking lot and turned onto Thornhill Road. Olivia
glanced over and caught Sophia sneaking a sideways look at her.

Shoot,
Olivia thought.
She’s
onto me.

Sophia
stopped and grabbed her arm. “We need to talk,” she said seriously.

Olivia
held her breath and waited for the ax to fall.

“Listen,
I know you’re not going to enjoy this,” Sophia said, frowning. “In fact, you’re
going to hate it. But I
really
want to be on the planning committee.”

Olivia
let herself breathe again. It seemed Sophia hadn’t discovered her secret—yet!
And Olivia had been head of the planning committee for the spring carnival at
her old school. It rocked. “Planning committee for what?” she asked curiously.