Vampires? Olivia wondered.
“...your social life,” Charlotte finished, dropping the bread so that it landed back on Olivia’s tray with a thud.
“Rule number two,” Charlotte went on, wiping her hands on her napkin. “Pink is in. Black”—she shot a cold look at another table, where Olivia saw Ivy Vega sitting with some friends—“is so last season. But you already knew that, right?” Charlotte added and winked.
“I so can’t wait to borrow that dress,” Katie said, looking Olivia up and down approvingly.
“Anyway,” said Charlotte, “rule number two is: Pink is perfect!”
Olivia shifted in her seat uncomfortably.
“But rule number three,” Charlotte continued, “is the most important rule of all.”
Charlotte looked at Katie and Allison, who nodded solemnly. Then Charlotte did a double clap, and all three spoke in unison: “The squad is everything, and the captain makes the calls!”
It was as if they’d practiced it—which, Olivia realized, they probably had. “Cool,” she said, not wanting to be mean. “Who’s the captain?”
Katie and Allison looked at Olivia like she’d just popped a zit right at the table.
“It’s all right,” Charlotte said. “She’s new. That’s a perfectly good question, Olivia. I’m the captain.”
Olivia couldn’t help it; she was shocked. She had to eat a forkful of fruit salad just to cover her reaction. Finally she swallowed. “I, um, talked to Ms. Barnett in gym, and she said that the captainship won’t be decided until tryouts.”
“I know,” said Charlotte, nodding sympathetically. “She actually has to say that or else she’ll be fired. Like, to be fair. But everyone knows it’s going to be me.”
“It’s just like everyone on the squad has to try out again every year, so it at least looks like new people have a chance,” Katie said.
“Like you!” Allison chimed. Then she realized what she’d just said and added quickly, “Although I’m sure you’ll make it if you stick with us.”
Olivia forced herself to smile and nod. I should have sat with Camilla, she thought. And then, out of the corner of her eye, Olivia saw Ivy and her friends about to pass by, carrying their trays.
Charlotte cleared her throat. “It’s such a shame,” she said ultraloud, “when people can’t afford to buy clothes from this century. We should totally set up a charity.”
Oh, my gosh. Charlotte did not just say that! Olivia thought. She stared down at her tray as Ivy brushed past with her friends. Luckily, they didn’t say anything.
When the Goths had gone, Olivia sat up straight. “Charlotte, what was all that about?”
“Excuse me?” Charlotte said haughtily.
“That girl, Ivy, saved my butt this morning. And even if she didn’t, I don’t really think that entitles you to smash her feelings.”
“Well, thank you for feedback, Olivia,” Charlotte huffed. “But it’s clear you don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, I’ll forgive you for not knowing this because you’re new, but let me tell you something about those Goths. The walking dead don’t have feelings!”
How utterly great, Ivy thought grimly as the bell rang for the last class of the day. The new girl— who looks just like me but is best friends with Charlotte Brown—is in my science class, too.
Ivy slumped in her chair in the back row. She could not believe Olivia had been sucked into Charlotte’s web so easily. Olivia might share Ivy’s nose, but that was obviously where the resemblance ended.
Uh-oh. Olivia was coming over. “Hi,” Olivia said quietly. She seemed embarrassed.
She should be! thought Ivy.
Olivia said, “Mr. Strain told me you’re my lab partner.”
What?! This is so unbelievably O-negative, Ivy raged silently. She was now officially having the weirdest and worst day ever. She was ready to say something really grave, but the look on Olivia’s face stopped her.
“I am so horrified by what Charlotte said at lunch. I mean, you are, like, the nicest person I’ve met so far. I know I should have said something on the spot. It’s just that, I don’t know, I was so shocked. I mean, look at you. You’ve got unbelievable style,” Olivia said.
“P-pardon me?” Ivy stammered.
“That’s the coolest dress I’ve seen all day!” Olivia went on. “And I’m absolutely going to try the chopstick-in-the-hair thing. You’ve got way more style than Charlotte Brown.”
Ivy was speechless.
“Anyway,” Olivia concluded, “I’m really sorry.”
Maybe Olivia Abbott wasn’t a cheerleader underling after all. Ivy moved her books aside so Olivia could sit down.
“It’s okay,” Ivy said. “I’m used to Charlotte’s petty ways. I bet she didn’t tell you I’m her nextdoor neighbor.”
“Are you serious?” Olivia asked incredulously.
“Dead serious. And she never misses an opportunity to say something nasty.” Ivy rolled her eyes. “I guess it’s a cheerleader thing.”
Olivia shook her head firmly. “I cheered at my old school, and most cheerleaders aren’t like that—any more than Goth girls are all witches.”
“As if.” Ivy laughed, impressed.
Olivia opened her notebook. “I mean, it would be one thing if you’d done something. But for Charlotte to act like that out of nowhere—”
“Actually,” Ivy interrupted, “there was sixth grade.”
Olivia’s eyes widened. “What happened in sixth grade?”
“I tried—”
Mr. Strain appeared in front of their desk. “Don’t you two think you should be preparing your lab materials like the rest of the class?”
“Sorry,” they both mumbled. Ivy sheepishly handed a pair of safety goggles to Olivia. A few moments later, when Mr. Strain had gone, she continued in a whisper, “I tried out for cheerleading.”
“YOU tried out—” Olivia gasped, but Ivy motioned for Olivia to keep her voice down. “For cheerleading?” Olivia finished in a whisper.
“Yep.” Ivy smiled. “My dad wanted me to have an extracurricular. I actually made the squad. But, guess . . . who ...didn’t?”