Ivy shifted in her boots. ‘Um, yeah, I guess.’ Then something else floated to the front of her memory. She flinched. ‘There might have been another incident.’ Ivy slapped her hands over her eyes, peeking through her fingers at Olivia. ‘There was a phone conversation. Brendan tried to suggest I might enjoy the dance and then . . . oh and then . . . the look on his face at Rebecca’s ranch!’
‘What face?’
‘A face like I had crushed his thumbs with a hammer. How could I have been so dense? He’s really up for it, isn’t he?’ Kill me now, thought Ivy, only she wasn’t sure if it was because she had hurt Brendan or because she might actually have to attend the dance.
‘He cares about you. Hello? Why wouldn’t he want to be seen with you on his arm at the school’s most romantic event ever?’
That’s it. Olivia’s right. I have to make this up to Brendan. So what if dances weren’t her thing? Her boyfriend was! She climbed over the girls on the floor making miniature cowboy hat name badges.
Olivia followed behind her, heaving a sigh of pleasure upon seeing the new decorations. ‘I wish I could have a pink rhinestone cowboy hat for the dance. Wouldn’t that be awesome?’
Ivy was only half-listening. ‘Olivia, I need to borrow your phone. I left mine in my backpack at home.’ With night as my witness, I, Ivy Vega, will make this better.
‘Sure, of course,’ Olivia told her.
Ivy shooed girls away, lifting cushions and searching for Olivia’s purse.
‘But, here’s the thing,’ continued Olivia, now in full-on daydream mode. ‘How am I going to organise getting a pink cowboy hat alongside everything else I have to do? It’s impossible!’
‘Olivia!’ Ivy flung a cushion on to the floor. ‘One problem at a time, please.’
‘Right, sorry.’ Olivia fished through a layer of hay. ‘Found it!’ She held her purse over her head, delivering it to Ivy.
Ivy’s thumbs punched in her text to Brendan: Will you do me the honour of being my partner at the dance? Love, Ivy. The green bar slid across the bottom of the screen. She almost couldn’t look. Message sent!
‘Did I really just do that?’ She stared open-mouthed at the screen.
Olivia wrapped her arms around Ivy’s stomach and squeezed. ‘Yes, because you really care about Brendan. Admit it.’ She poked her sister. ‘You might just have a bit of fun, too.’
The phone chirped. The message read: Killer. For sure!
‘That’s that.’ Ivy handed the phone back and dusted her hands together. ‘Guess I’m going. But promise me,’ she said, as she scanned the room full of giggling girls, ‘I won’t become like that.’
Olivia laughed. ‘There is no chance you will ever be like that, silly! Brendan loves you just the way you are.’
All of this fuss over her relationship with Brendan, and Ivy had completely forgotten that her sister was without her boyfriend. ‘Have you heard from Jackson recently?’
Olivia frowned. ‘Yes.’
‘But . . .’ Ivy prodded her twin.
‘But he had a French wardrobe manager with him and had to hang up.’
By the deathly pale look on her sister’s face, Ivy guessed that the wardrobe manager had sounded a bit too girly for Olivia’s taste. ‘I wish there was something I could do,’ said Ivy, frustrated. ‘Why don’t vampy superpowers come with a boyfriend-summoner? Something that would actually be useful!’
Olivia smoothed her hair and clothes, straightening her posture. ‘No biggie. I’ll be fine. I’ll have to be if I’m going to spend the whole summer without you, as well as without Jackson.’
The summer? Ivy stared at her toes, wanting to tell Olivia the truth. It could be more than a summer: a lot more. Ivy scuffed her boot on the floor. She might not be able to avoid going away herself, but maybe there was something else she could do . . .
Chapter Ten
Olivia blinked against the sunlight pouring in through the slats in her whitewashed shutters. She peeled her head off the pillow, bleary-eyed. Yesterday had been exhausting. Olivia wouldn’t care if she never saw another pink-and-black paper chain in her life – or at least until tonight. Her vision came into focus and her breath caught.
At the foot of her bed was a pair of pink cowboy boots, the exact same as the pair she’d been dreaming about. Wait – am I still asleep? The boots had loopy white embroidery and perfectly pointed toes. She rubbed her eyes . . . and the boots were still there! Pushing back the down comforter she reached for the soft pink leather. They were real! Tucking them under her arm, she ran downstairs to the kitchen, where her parents were sipping coffee and sharing a newspaper.
‘Who put these in my bedroom?’ Olivia held out the pink cowboy boots like she was presenting a prized possession for ‘show and tell’.
Her mother batted her eyes, sharing an exaggerated shrug with her father. ‘Why, I have no idea. It has nothing to do with us.’
It looked like her parents could use a few acting lessons. Olivia could see right through their innocent façade, but before she could question them any further she heard the sound of her perky ringtone coming from upstairs.
‘Hold that thought,’ she told her parents, racing back to her bedroom. She answered her phone, breathless. ‘Hello?’
‘How do you like the boots?’ asked a deep, dreamy voice on the other end.
‘Jackson!’ Of course! ‘How did you know to buy me pink boots? I was just dreaming about them and now, here they are . . . in my room!’ Olivia was beginning to think that acting wasn’t his only area of expertise. Perhaps her boyfriend was a mind reader, too.
‘I had them couriered over. Thought you’d like something special for the dance.’
‘But how . . . but how . . .’ Olivia sucked in her breath. ‘Did my sister call you?’
‘Oh, Olivia.’ She could picture Jackson’s eyes twinkling with laughter. ‘You sure are slow on the uptake sometimes.’
Olivia made a mental note to give her sister a bone-crushing hug for this. ‘There’s only one more thing that would make this dance complete.’ Well, other than the rhinestone hat. Not that she would mention that to Jackson.
‘And what would that be?’ asked Jackson, still chuckling.
Olivia walked by the mirror, saw her hair sticking up at crazy angles, and immediately ducked. Thank goodness her hot boyfriend couldn’t see her with bed-head!