“Thanks for reminding me.” Ivy winced. “I only have until lunchtime to save all of vampirekind! But as soon as I get through with that, we’ll dig up our parents together. Okay?”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Olivia with a grin. “Good luck getting your quote!”
Ivy was already hurrying up the steps ahead of her. “I need it!” she called over her shoulder.
By the break before third period, Ivy was flitting around school like a bat that couldn’t find its way out of a cave. Her sister came bouncing toward her, jacketless to reveal a pink long-sleeved T-shirt that had the word “Yay!” printed on it in blue bubble letters.
“Hey!” Olivia said. “Any luck?”
Ivy shook her head, feeling faintly sick. Olivia’s eyes widened. “You mean you still
haven’t found a quote?” Ivy ran a hand through her hair. “It’s not for lack of trying!” she wailed.
“Okay.” Olivia nodded. “That’s okay. We’ll think of something.” She scanned the hallways as Ivy bit her lip hopefully.
“I got it!” Olivia announced after a moment.
“What? What is it?” Ivy asked eagerly.
“Mr. Slipson,” Olivia told her.
Ivy followed her sister’s gaze and saw the school guidance counselor, Mr. Slipson, waving his arms wildly as he talked to Mrs. Klinter, the computer science teacher, in front of his office. The buttons were nearly bursting off his shirt, and a tiny paisley bow tie hung under his enormous chin. “It’s outrageous!” Ivy heard him cry, his tiny eyeglasses nearly popping off his round face.
The corners of Ivy’s mouth curled. Mr. Slipson was always going off on bizarre tangents that made no sense, and he was constantly saying things that were completely alarming but had no basis in reality. He was utterly perfect.
Ivy threw her arms around Olivia. “You are seriously the best twin sister I have ever had,” she said.
A few moments later, Ivy was in position next to the guidance counselor. “Excuse me,” she interrupted him. “Mr. Slipson?”
“Miss Vega!” Mr. Slipson bellowed. “I was just telling Mrs. Klinter here about the problem with toilet brushes.” Mrs. Klinter smiled weakly before fleeing down the hall as if her life depended on it.
“Yes,” Ivy said. “Um, Mr. Slipson, I wonder if I could talk to you about—”
“Of course you can talk to me. That’s my job— I’m a listener!”
“Right. Well, I’d love your thoughts for a story that Serena Star is doing,” said Ivy.
“Serena Star!” Mr. Slipson gasped in delight. “Her ‘Hygiene of the Rich and Famous’ exposé last year was riveting!”
An hour later, Ivy walked into the Scribe office with Sophia. This time, they were the first ones to arrive, except Principal Whitehead and Serena Star herself.
“Good morning,” Ivy said as brightly as she could, taking the seat next to Serena.
“Good morning,” replied Serena Star. “As the senior writer here, did you get your quote?”
Ivy leaned closer to Serena and whispered, “Garrick Stephens is just the tip of the iceberg.”
Serena Star’s wide eyes shone with excitement. “Well, I can’t wait to hear what you’ve learned,” she said approvingly.
Camilla came in and went over to the cameraman. “This is that Eighth Dimension book I was telling you about,” Ivy heard her say as she handed him a dog-eared paperback.
“Thanks, Camilla,” the cameraman replied with an appreciative nod.
The rest of the staff filed in. Toby sat down on the other side of Serena, straightened his polkadot tie, and folded his hands on the table in front of him.
He looks confident, thought Ivy, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.
“Let’s get started,” announced Serena expectantly. “Who wants to go first?”
Marnie Squingle raised her hand, and Serena Star pointed to her.
Marnie cleared her throat and read from her notebook. “ ‘Justin Fairfax, a Franklin Grove Middle School eighth-grader who has gym class with Garrick Stephens, told me—and I quote— “Garrick Stephens has the worst BO ever. He smells like death.”’ ” Marnie lifted her face with a look of smug satisfaction.
“That’s it?” said Serena.
“He smells ‘like death.’ ” Marnie nodded. “Isn’t that shocking?”
“No,” replied Serena, “not really. Who’s next?”
Rudy Preston waved his beefy arm in the air. He glanced at the piece of a paper in front of him and then folded it up and put it in his pocket.
He must have memorized his quote, Ivy thought, impressed.
Rudy looked around the table and began. “I want to be Serena Star’s assistant because she is the most beautiful, intelligent, interesting reporter working today,” he said in a steady voice. “I admire her courage, her sense of justice, and her perfect smile. I remember the first time I saw her on television. I was—”
“Time out,” Serena interrupted. “Is any of this going to be about Garrick Stephens and his cult?”
Rudy’s eyes crossed. “I thought you just wanted the best quote.”
“Next,” Serena said dismissively. Rudy opened his mouth and shut it again, clearly not understanding where he’d gone wrong.
“Poor guy,” Sophia whispered in Ivy’s ear.
Next was Will Kerrell. Nervous at the best of times, he glued his eyes to his notebook and read in a rushed monotone, “ ‘Those Beasts are into heavy metal music, and everyone knows that if you play that stuff backward, it will make you eat the head off a bat, and then you’ll run into the street screaming and your eyeballs will explode and your brains will go everywhere!’ ”
“Who said that?” asked Serena.
“My cousin Charlie,” Will told her. “He’s in high school.”
“Well, he’s absolutely right,” Serena said. “Unfortunately, heavy metal is old news.”
At this rate, Ivy thought hopefully, I just might get the assistant job. She took a deep breath and raised her hand.
“Let’s hear it,” invited Serena.
“My quote is from Franklin Grove’s very concerned guidance counselor, Mr. Reginald Slipson,” Ivy said. “Mr. Slipson has long suspected that something is very wrong with students in Franklin Grove. According to him, this latest incident at the graveyard was a perfect example of the sinister problem that is threatening our community.”