‘Goths probably aren’t allowed to skateboard either,’ Ivy muttered, rolling her eyes. ‘Or have any other kind of fun.’ Which did make her wonder – what was Amelia doing in the park at all? Shouldn’t she be moping in a darkened room or something?
Sophia only shrugged . . . but unfortunately, the movement made her backpack gape open and the gingham fabric spilled out.
Amelia’s lips curled. She turned as if to speak to her friends, but her voice was pitched perfectly to reach Sophia and the others. ‘Oh, yeah. Gingham is so cute . . . for a farmer. Don’t you think?’
Her followers all laughed, like good little lackeys. Ivy’s jaw clenched. ‘That’s it,’ she said. ‘I’m going to –’
Sophia grabbed her arm and pulled her forwards. ‘Just forget it, Ivy.’
‘Don’t engage,’ Brendan agreed in a whisper. ‘It’ll only cause more trouble.’
Reluctantly, Ivy gave in. She breathed a sigh of relief the moment they stepped out of the park. At least now, they wouldn’t have anyone watching their every movement any more. Or would they? A curtain twitched across the street. Another twitched nearby. A moment later, a whole group of bunnies came flooding out of the first house, while goth underlings came hurrying from the park.
‘Ivy! I’m having a party on Saturday. Do you want to come?’
‘Hey, Ivy, we’re having a barbecue next week. Will you be there?’
‘Ivy, do you want to come to my house sometime? Just to hang out?’
Hang out? Ivy stared at the girl who’d made the suggestion. I’ve never even seen her before. What would we even talk about?
Sophia’s voice quivered with laughter as she whispered into Ivy’s ear, ‘How does it feel to be Ms Popular?’
Ivy had to bite back a groan of horror. Sophia was right! Somehow, in this crazy town and school, she had actually become popular. This was not supposed to happen!
She looked at the crowd of waiting, expectant faces all around her and resolved to do something about this. She needed help to deal with her new circumstances.
Next time I talk to Olivia, she vowed, I will ask her: how does anyone survive being popular?
Chapter Six
‘Aaaaand cut!’
Olivia’s shoulders slumped with relief as the cameras stopped recording. She could barely breathe. How did real Victorian women wear corsets every day without suffocating?
But wearing corsets all the time still couldn’t have been more annoying for Victorian girls than Olivia’s afternoon had been for her – thirty-seven takes of walking into a room and gasping, followed by twenty-two takes of her looking out of a window ‘wistfully’.
At this rate, I may graduate from college before we finish this film!
‘And with that, we are wrapped tight and cosy for today!’ Jacob Harker bellowed – even though calling an end to the day’s filming should have been Tom the director’s job. ‘Out-race dawn to the set tomorrow, folks.’
I assume he just means ‘bright and early’, Olivia thought as she made her way off the set towards her trailer as quickly as she could. Unfortunately, that wasn’t very quick. Her burgundy silk dress might have been drop-dead gorgeous, but between her fluffy bell-shaped skirt and tight ankle-length petticoat, walking was suddenly a serious challenge.
And tomorrow I have to somehow dance in this outfit! She let out a groan. How is that supposed to happen?
As she walked through the maze of production trucks and trailers parked outside the posh mansion where they had been filming, Olivia spotted Jackson standing with his back to her outside one of the trailers. He was dressed in his ‘poor’ Victorian costume, flipping through a script, and his shoulders were hunched.
Olivia frowned. Was he just concentrating hard? Or was he nervous? That’s so unlike him. She hesitated, looking at his hunched shoulders. Could he be nervous because of us?
Their afternoon in London had been wonderful, but things had turned awkward again as soon as they’d started filming yesterday. Then again . . . Olivia sighed. They were playing people who were supposed to be in love with each other! For a real-life ex-couple, that was a tense situation to be in. How could they not feel awkward in this situation?
Maybe if she could lighten things up somehow . . .
All of a sudden, as Olivia stared at Jackson’s back, she felt an overwhelming urge to sneak up behind him, cover his eyes and say, ‘Guess who?’
Don’t be ridiculous! she told herself. Why would anyone, in the history of anything, ever think that was a good idea?
She turned away, shaking her head, then stopped. Because really . . .
She’d seen it in so many movies that it was actually kind of traditional, wasn’t it? Especially on a movie set! And even if it wasn’t . . . I have to do something to break this tension between us!
Finally making a decision, she crept up behind him. Her big skirt rustled as she moved, but Jackson was studying his script too intensely to notice, even when she was less than a foot behind him. She stood up on tiptoe to reach out and cover his eyes . . .
Oh no! Her feet were tangled in her tight chemise. Olivia lurched forward, hopelessly off-balance . . . and landed right on Jackson’s back, knocking him to the ground and landing right on top of him. She could feel his body wriggling beneath her and his grunts of protest, but there was nothing she could do to roll off him – not in this ridiculous dress. Loose script-pages fluttered everywhere.
Olivia closed her eyes in anguish. Could that possibly have gone any worse?
The answer was definitely I don’t think so.
Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she finally rolled off Jackson in her enormous hoop-skirt. She sat beside Jackson’s fallen body, her cheeks still flushed and her breath coming in gasps because of the corset.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she wheezed. ‘I didn’t –’
She cut herself off with a gasp as Jackson turned to face her. Oh no.
She’d been wrong. It could have gone worse. It had gone worse. Much worse!
Because it wasn’t Jackson she had tackled, after all. She’d taken a total stranger to the ground!
‘I’m so sorry,’ she repeated faintly. She felt light-headed, and for once, it wasn’t the corset that was to blame.
The stranger’s hair was the same shade of blond as Jackson’s and cut in the same hairstyle. He was the same height as Jackson, and he wore Jackson’s costume . . . but he was definitely not Jackson.