If only Olivia was here! Ivy’s twin would never have pressed the point so hard. She’d have been able to explain gently to Sophia just why this was such a terrible idea.
I don’t have those skills! Ivy thought glumly.
How many more times could she simply repeat, ‘It’s not a good look for you’? Because, so far, that tactic was not working and she felt mean even saying it. Telling people how they should look is so not ‘me’.
‘Next!’ the top hairdresser announced.
Yet another skater girl jumped off the black chair, her hair magically transformed into exactly the same colour and cut as every other girl’s before her.
Sophia beamed as she moved forwards in the line. Ivy’s heart rate sped up. I wonder just how much trouble I would get into for setting off this mall’s fire alarm?
‘Oh, would you please stop scowling?’ Sophia demanded, shaking her head at Ivy. ‘What if this style is the “new me”?’
‘It can’t be!’ Frantically, Ivy waved from the latest skater-girl to Sophia. ‘They all look exactly the same. Just think about that.’
‘No, you think about it.’ Sophia slid her sunglasses down her nose and glared at Ivy. ‘You seem to want me to look just the same as every other goth. How is that any different? Are you, of all people, seriously going to force another person to look a certain way? Just because it’s the way you look? Because, if you are, then . . . there’s really no difference between you and Amelia Thompson.’
Ivy stared at her friend, her jaw slack.
Sophia nudged her sunglasses back into place. Smiling serenely, she followed the line as it shuffled forwards yet again as one more skater clone strode proudly out of the salon. Numbly, Ivy turned and followed after.
I can’t stay and watch, she thought.
But Sophia was right: this decision was hers to make.
High school is pretty challenging, Ivy thought miserably. Her best friend was making a drastic mistake, all the social rules had been turned upside-down . . .
Things had seemed so much less serious back in eighth grade!
The next morning, Ivy couldn’t stop clicking refresh on her emails in between checking her phone. Still no messages from Sophia. Is she giving me the cold shoulder?
Ivy didn’t even know if they’d had a proper falling-out! It didn’t feel like it . . . but maybe that’s only by middle school rules. Maybe by high school rules, I really offended her.
As Ivy checked her phone one more time, she finally asked herself the real question she’d been dreading: Are we even friends any more?
‘Why so glum?’
Ivy gave a start as Olivia’s beaming face suddenly filled the computer screen, courtesy of the Lonely Echo messaging system.
‘I have never been so glad to see you!’ Ivy felt tears burn at the back of her eyes. ‘I really need help.’
Olivia’s smile turned into a concerned frown. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s Sophia.’ Ivy spilled out the whole story of their friend’s transformation, ending with the madness at the mall. As she explained, she watched Olivia’s face go pale with horror.
‘A blonde pixie-cut?’ Olivia gasped. ‘That’s crazy!’
‘That’s what I said!’ Ivy swallowed hard. ‘But she just thought I was trying to force her into being a Goth Clone. Like I wasn’t respecting her individuality.’
‘It has nothing to do with individuality,’ Olivia said. ‘Sophia just doesn’t have the colouring for blonde hair. It would look completely unnatural on her. It would make her look sallow! And, with the shape of her face, a pixie-cut is the least flattering style I can imagine. And she looks awesome just as she is!’
‘I knew you’d find the right words to explain it.’ Ivy smiled wearily. ‘I could have used you yesterday.’
‘But I wasn’t there.’ Olivia bit her lip, looking away. ‘I’m so sorry . . .’
‘Don’t be.’ Ivy shrugged, looking down at her silent phone. ‘It’s my fault, for not being able to talk her out of it.’
Her twin sighed. ‘From what you’ve said, I’m not sure anyone could have talked Sophia out of it, if she was really determined to impress this “Finn” boy. She’s never had a major crush before, has she?’
‘No,’ Ivy said.
Olivia shrugged. ‘Then this one must be hitting her extra-hard.’
‘It’s probably just a phase, though, right?’ Ivy twirled the bat-ring on her finger nervously. ‘I mean, most girls grow out of their first crushes pretty quickly, don’t they?’
‘Um . . .’ Olivia looked meaningfully at the ring Ivy was twirling on her finger . . . a ring given to her by Brendan. ‘Maybe some girls do,’ she said.
Ivy followed Olivia’s gaze to her finger and groaned, letting go of her ring as if it had burned her. ‘You’re right! My first crush was Brendan, all those years ago, and yours –’
‘– was Jackson,’ Olivia finished softly.
They looked at each other, wide-eyed. Then they both began to laugh.
‘I guess we’re hardly ones to talk,’ said Olivia
Ivy leaned back in her chair, idly picking up a glass of Strawberry HemoGlobules and taking a long sip through her ruby-red straw. ‘So,’ she said, ‘speaking of Jackson, how’s everything going on-set?’
‘Honestly?’ Olivia let out a groan and tipped her head into her hands.
Ivy winced and set down her drink. ‘That bad?’
‘The work is great,’ Olivia said, her voice muffled by her hands. ‘The work is fabulous. But Jackson . . .’
Ivy’s shoulders stiffened. She could feel the beginnings of a death-squint. ‘What has he done?’
‘Nothing,’ Olivia said, her eyes filled with frustration. ‘That’s the problem. He took me on a boat ride yesterday down the Thames.’
Sitting back, Ivy raised her eyebrows. ‘Sounds . . . romantic?’
‘Well, I thought so,’ Olivia said. ‘I thought he was going to say something romantic, or make some kind of declaration. But it turned out . . . he just wanted to go on the boat ride!’
Ivy grimaced sympathetically. ‘So what now?’
‘Now we’re in London for just one more day before production goes on a break,’ Olivia said. ‘Then he’ll be going back to Hollywood, and I’ll be coming home. And nothing will have changed!’