The thought of confrontation made Olivia queasy, but she couldn’t just leave Jenny to become roadkill. ‘What’s the one thing bullies can’t handle?’ Olivia asked, more to herself than to Ivy.
‘I don’t know. Teachers hanging around?’
Not a bad suggestion, thought Olivia, but that wasn’t what she was getting at. ‘Bullies can’t stand it when the victims push back. What I need to learn is how to push!’
‘Care to borrow a bit of my super-strength?’ asked Ivy.
‘Hopefully, I’ll just need my brains this time!’ Olivia jumped off the bed and skipped down the stairs to the living room, where Mr Vega was lounging on the couch with an open newspaper.
‘Dad? I was wondering: do Ivy and I have time to slip out before dinner?’
Ivy pulled up behind her. She gave Olivia a confused look, but played along.
Olivia’s bio-dad agreed. ‘I guess,’ he said, folding his paper. ‘How much trouble could you get into before dinner?’ Quite a bit, thought Olivia. Especially if she was armed with a few dollars.
‘Where are we going?’ Ivy asked, as they grabbed their jackets and headed out of the front door.
Olivia grinned. ‘To the mall!’
Ten minutes later, Olivia and Ivy were power-walking through the busy shoppers and the strong smell of food-court pretzels. They passed Pink and Pretty, Dancing Delight, Trudy’s Beauty Palace . . . If I weren’t here strictly on business, the temptation of all this shopping would be too much to resist! Olivia thought.
‘How are you going to find them here?’ Ivy asked, trotting alongside Olivia. ‘I mean, I assume this is about those three dance-committee bullies.’
‘Trust me,’ said Olivia, ‘I’ll find them.’ But the closer she got to her destination, the more uncertain she felt. What if she couldn’t reason with the girls? What if she forgot what to say?
With balled fists, she marched into Panzers department store, where, sure enough, the three older girls were right where Olivia had suspected – the make-up counter. Lucrezia sat in one of the tall black make-up chairs while Melinda added bright pink-coloured streaks to her friend’s long blonde hair. Veronica was leaning close to a mirror, admiring the thick, shimmery blush she had painted over her cheekbones.
‘Fashion victim alert,’ Ivy whispered. Olivia agreed. Apparently these girls had never heard the phrase, ‘too much of a good thing’.
She tugged Ivy into the shoe department and ducked behind a display of knee-high riding boots. ‘What now?’ asked Olivia.
Ivy blinked. ‘I thought you had a plan?’
Olivia bit the side of her thumb. ‘I do. I’m just . . . bracing myself.’
‘Well, consider yourself braced!’ Ivy’s eyes grew wide. ‘You have to go over there.’
‘OK, OK, I’m going!’ Olivia took a deep breath. She had once balanced one-legged on top of a cheerleading pyramid in front an entire football stadium. Compared to that, how hard can this be? She walked over to the girls. ‘Lucrezia, Melinda, Veronica, I’ve had enough of you muscling in on the school dance.’ Olivia tried to keep her voice from quaking. ‘It’s not right and it’s not fair.’ Channelling her sister, Olivia put her hands on her hips and waited.
The trio glanced around at one another and then Lucrezia burst into a fit of laughter. She doubled over, grabbing her stomach. Evidently, Olivia was quite the comedian.
Melinda stood over Olivia, at least four inches taller. ‘Who do you think you are, talking to us like that?’ Olivia was seriously regretting her choice of ballet flats. ‘You’re younger than us!’ This was enough to send Lucrezia and Veronica into hysterics.
Olivia’s face blazed. She was starting to back away, when she remembered how she’d managed to deal with Jessica Phelps when the actress had tried to humiliate her at the Hollywood awards. She thought about sending the girls her best killer death stare, but then something made her stop. Don’t stoop to their level.
‘I just want you to know that if you interfere with the committee again, you’ll leave me no choice but to formally ask for you to be banned from meetings. I’m sure none of us wants that. It wouldn’t look good on your school records.’ Olivia narrowed her eyes to let them know she meant business. ‘If I were you, I wouldn’t push your luck.’
She’d kept her voice pleasant, but there was no mistaking how serious Olivia was.
Veronica flipped her hair over her shoulder. ‘Fine. We’ll stay away . . . or whatever.’
Olivia arched an eyebrow, silently congratulating herself on her acting skills. ‘That’s better.’ Then, without waiting for a response, she pivoted on the spot and walked over to Ivy.
The two of them breezed out of the store. When they’d got round the corner, Olivia pulled out her phone and busied herself dialling Jenny’s number.
‘Hello, Jenny? No need to worry. You’ll be fine to go ahead without me for one meeting.’ Olivia grinned at her sister. ‘I guarantee it.’ She hung up and skipped next to Ivy.
‘You were impressive back there,’ Ivy told her. ‘Cold as ice. You should be a vampire!’
‘Yeah, go to vampire school or something!’ Olivia joked. Ivy slowed to a stop and watched her twin pull ahead.
You have no idea how close to the truth you are, Ivy thought. One of us really might be about to enrol at a vampire academy.
When Ivy and Olivia returned home, they found their father pacing in the hallway. Olivia had told him they were going to the mall. He didn’t need to be worried. She checked her watch. They weren’t late. Was something wrong?
‘Dad?’ Ivy tapped him on the shoulder. ‘We’re home.’
‘Great.’ He flashed a smile. ‘How does my hair look?’
What?
Olivia examined his dark, slicked-back hair. He always looked old-world dashing. ‘Like it always looks?’ she said, shrugging.
Mr Vega shook his head, as if trying to bring himself back to reality. ‘Right, of course. Girls, your grandparents are in the dining room. We’re about ready to eat.’
‘Aren’t you coming?’ Olivia asked, but her bio-dad had stopped paying attention because, at that instant, the doorbell rang. ‘I’ll get it.’ Olivia scurried over to the door. She didn’t know they were expecting guests.