‘Brendan, it was a disaster! They want me to go to finishing school in Transylvania, some place called Wallachia Academy. It’s supposed to be the most A-positive place on earth, but I already can’t stand it. I’d have to leave you and Olivia. Plus, they won’t let me tell Olivia and I actually yelled at my grandparents. Can you believe it?’ Ivy was glad Brendan wasn’t here in person. She felt like she might burst into tears at any moment, and she didn’t want him to see her looking like a gothic clown when her eyeliner started to run.
There was silence on the other end of the phone, and then he said, ‘I’m sure your family are doing what they think is right.’ His voice was gentle. ‘Although . . .’ Ivy heard him take a deep sigh, ‘I don’t want you to go to some school across an entire ocean either.’
‘I know! I’d rather go to the school dance than leave my home behind.’ She laughed at how silly that idea was. Me! In a frilly dress at a school dance! The line went silent. Ivy waited. ‘Hello? Brendan, are you still there?’ She held the receiver away from her ear, quickly checking the screen. ‘Brendan?’
‘I’m here.’ Brendan sounded like he had swallowed soda the wrong way. ‘I think the school dance might be fun if we went together. You know?’
Ivy wasn’t sure what to say. Fun? Was Brendan kidding with her? ‘Yeah, right!’ she said, laughing. Then Ivy heard the door behind her open. She turned to see her dad stepping outside. ‘Hey, Brendan? My dad’s here. I’ve got to run.’ She ended the call and prepared herself for a nice long father–daughter lecture. How absolutely fatal, she thought.
Charles sat down next to Ivy. He was still wearing his velvet smoking jacket, and the expression on his face was grim. Ivy was seriously considering digging her own grave.
‘Your grandparents only want to do the right thing.’ Her father’s voice was immediately soothing. ‘You don’t have to make a decision yet. Why don’t you sleep on it?’
Ivy swallowed hard. Maybe she had overreacted . . . just a bit. The two of them sat in silence for several moments.
‘I guess I should apologise to them,’ she said eventually.
Her dad smiled and put an arm around her shoulders. ‘They’re old and they’ve travelled a long way,’ he reminded her. ‘We need to make allowances if they’re a bit . . . to the point. It’s only because they care.’
The two of them got to their feet and made their way back inside.
The Count and Countess were sitting stiffly on the edge of the couch. Ivy could barely meet their glance, she was so mortified.
‘I’m sorry for running out of the room.’ Ivy had worms crawling in her stomach. She felt dreadful. Never in twelve centuries would she have guessed she’d ever get into a fight with her sweet grandparents.
There was nothing else for it – she went and wrapped both of them in tight hugs.
When she pulled away, her grandfather was wringing his hands. ‘I can’t believe we upset you so. It was silly to mention our age. We would have come to Franklin Grove anyway. We love travelling!’
‘Yes, yes,’ the Countess rushed to agree. ‘We’re happy to be here visiting you and Olivia. But surely you can understand. We would dearly love to see our granddaughter become the very best vampire she can possibly be.’
‘I understand.’ Ivy could see her grandparents believed in what they were saying and weren’t just trying to make her toe the vampire line. ‘But I still don’t think Wallachia Academy will be right for me.’ She couldn’t just take off and leave her sister with no explanation.
The Countess pressed her wrinkled lips into a thin line, nodding. ‘Very well. At least we tried.’ Like most vampires, Ivy’s grandmother had different-coloured eyes – one green, the other a rich amber – and both looked close to tears.
Ivy hated disappointing them, but she had other loyalties as well. Like her loyalty to Olivia. ‘I promise,’ said Ivy, ‘I will always try to be the best vampire I can be.’
Her grandmother pulled Ivy into another hug. ‘Oh, Ivy, I know that is true!’
A loud sniffle came from the corner of the room. When Ivy turned round, Horatio was wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.
‘I’m surprised the dance committee can survive without their fearless leader for one day,’ said Ivy, tossing a pillow at her sister. ‘What have you left them doing?’
Olivia was sprawled on the bed in Ivy’s room, sucking on a Cherrylicious lollipop. She propped herself up on her elbows. She wasn’t so sure the committee could survive without her, but tomorrow she and Ivy were going to Aunt Rebecca’s farm, and that meant another twin sleepover at the Vegas’ house. Olivia had written detailed instructions for Jenny. ‘Follow these and you’ll be fine,’ she’d told her:
Take suggestions for a theme
Make a list of supplies
Check the budget
And most importantly, try not to let Lucrezia,
Melinda and Veronica boss you around. I know it’s hard, but try!
A mental image of Jenny, with her mousy-brown hair and her shoulders hunched over, snapped into Olivia’s mind. ‘Maybe I’d better call to check in with Jenny. They’re supposed to be thinking about themes, but . . . you know. Just in case.’ Olivia fumbled inside her straw tote bag for her phone. ‘Hi, Jenny?’ she said when Jenny picked up. ‘I was just calling to double-check that you all don’t mind having a committee meeting without me . . .’ She held her breath.
‘Honestly?’ Jenny’s voice was high-pitched. ‘I’m not so sure.’
Not so sure, thought Olivia, trying to stifle a groan. She had cleared this with everyone yesterday.
‘It’s just, well, what about Lucrezia and her friends?’ Jenny continued. ‘I don’t know if I can keep them in line.’
Unfortunately, Jenny was right. Those girls would stomp her like a chewed stick of spearmint under their platform heels.
Olivia twisted one of her bangle bracelets around her wrist, until suddenly she had an idea. ‘Jenny, leave those girls to me. I’ll call you later with an update.’ She snapped the phone shut.
‘You are going stand up to those girls, right?’ said Ivy, jabbing a chopstick into her dark bun. Olivia had told her twin all about their performance at the first committee meeting.