Switched

Chapter 6

Bring on the Goths! thought Olivia.

"You're late," said Sophia, charging up with her black scarf swinging. "I've been out of the photo lab for twenty minutes already.You weren't trying to back out on me, were you?"

"No," said Olivia, making sure she didn't bounce. "I just ran home to change. And I couldn't find my"--she hesitated and Sophia peered at her skeptically--"my fuzzy backpack," Olivia finished.

Sophia's mouth dropped open. "You mean my fuzzy backpack that you borrowed and never returned!"

Oops. "I guess that's the one," Olivia said hoarsely.

"Well," said Sophia, "it is a killer fashion state- ment.You look deadly."

"Thank you," said Olivia.

"So let's go." Sophia pushed her toward the sidewalk. "I don't want to be late!"

So far, so good, Olivia thought with a rush of relief. If she could make it to the meeting without arousing Sophia's suspicions, everything else would be easy.

They cut across the school parking lot and turned onto Thornhill Road. Olivia glanced over and caught Sophia sneaking a sideways look at her.

Shoot, Olivia thought. She's onto me.

Sophia stopped and grabbed her arm. "We need to talk," she said seriously.

Olivia held her breath and waited for the ax to fall.

"Listen, I know you're not going to enjoy this," Sophia said, frowning. "In fact, you're going to hate it. But I really want to be on the planning committee."

Olivia let herself breathe again. It seemed Sophia hadn't discovered her secret--yet! And Olivia had been head of the planning committee for the spring carnival at her old school. It rocked. "Planning committee for what?" she asked curiously.

"The All Hallows' Ball," Sophia said apologet- ically. She sounded like a little kid who knows she's in trouble. "Every year, they use the same lifeless professional photographer with a comb- over, and I think I could do something seriously great and candid. But we have to be on the plan- ning committee first."

Olivia blurted, "That sounds cool."

Sophia looked completely shocked, and Olivia realized that Ivy would not think party planning was cool. At all.

"I mean you taking the pictures sounds cool. Not party planning," Olivia added hastily.Then she continued in a glum tone, meant to convey Goth resignation, "Just don't expect me to say anything in this meeting. I'll sit there, but that's it."

"Agreed," Sophia said, looking relieved. "Thanks, Ivy."

As they walked, Olivia wondered why she hadn't heard anything about the ball before. At her old school, there would have been posters everywhere.

The tree-lined street had turned into a con- crete thoroughfare, and they walked past a Funky Chicken and a Marly's Discount Superstore. Sophia leaped up on a bench and tiptoed along it, jumping down. Olivia struggled to limit her reac- tion to a close-lipped Goth smile, but it wasn't easy. Then she noticed Sophia's earrings--two little black bowling balls with white bowling pins dangling below them.

"Your earrings are so cute!" Olivia exclaimed.

"Don't be such a witch," Sophia replied drily. She must have thought her friend was being sar- castic.

Olivia mentally kicked herself. She had to stop using words like "cute," or she'd never make it through the afternoon in one piece.

Sophia veered into the parking lot of a giant FoodMart. Olivia was a little surprised, consider- ing they were already running late, but she fol- lowed Ivy's friend inside without comment.

Maybe they were supposed to bring food to the meeting, like pretzels or something.

But Sophia didn't even go to the snack aisle. Olivia followed her past paper towels and laundry detergent to the back of the store. They stopped in front of a scruffy stock boy with jet-black hair and a nose ring, who was stacking cases of cran- berry juice on a cart.

Out of nowhere, Sophia said, "Pumpernickel."

Well, that's a lame meeting snack, thought Olivia.

Without even looking at them, the boy silently pulled a key from a chain that hung from his belt loop and unlocked a gray door marked STAFF ONLY.

Sophia walked through, and Olivia hustled after her.

This is weird, thought Olivia.

They started down an impossibly steep, dimly lit staircase. There was no handrail, and Olivia was scared she'd trip over her boots. Sophia bar- reled down fearlessly ahead of her.

Clearly this thing was a total secret, Olivia decided. But what kind of dance required a hush- hush meeting in the basement of a supermarket?

The only thing Olivia could think of was a TV special she'd seen about some girls in Europe who threw massive raves in warehouses. All their planning was top secret because the cops were always trying to bust them.

My mom will never let me go to this dance, thought Olivia with a tinge of disappointment.

The stairs led to a long, narrow hallway. The girls passed an unmarked door, behind which Olivia could have sworn a crowd of people was laughing and talking. Finally, after squeezing past a stack of chairs, they reached the end of the hall and another nondescript door.

Sophia pushed it open, and Olivia was surprised to find herself in a room that looked a lot like the conference room at her dad's old office: dry-erase board, pukey beige carpet, black imitation-leather office chairs. The only real difference was the huge round stone table in the center of the room.

There were some Goths standing around drinking cherry punch. A serious-looking girl with chunky glasses was organizing papers on the table.

"Hi, Soph," said a girl wearing a studded collar.

She nodded at Olivia. "Hey, Ivy. I can't believe you actually came."

Olivia had no idea what the girl's name was. She shifted uncomfortably.

Luckily, the girl in the chunky glasses cleared her throat in an official way and bailed Olivia out by saying, "We're five minutes late. Let's get started."

Olivia was already lowering herself into a seat when she noticed that everyone else was simply standing behind their chairs. She jerked herself back up.

The room was silent. The girl in charge held her hands above the table like she was warming them over a fire and closed her eyes. "May the Secret be cloaked in darkness," she said solemnly.

"And never see light of day," the group responded as one.

Olivia was baffled. This must be the weird sense of humor Ivy was talking about, she thought. She hoped no one had noticed that she hadn't joined in. They were now all sitting down, so she quickly slipped into her chair.

"Okay, people," the girl began. "We only have three weeks to pull off Franklin Grove's two hun- dred and second annual All Hallows' Ball, and I'm determined to make it the best one ever. This is the first of three planning committee meetings. Today we need to decide on the theme and who's going to be responsible for--"

She was interrupted by raucous laughter in the hallway, and suddenly the door swung open. In slouched four boys with dirty-looking hair and heavy metal T-shirts.

It was the boys who had cornered Olivia in the hall at school, the ones Ivy called the Beasts. Olivia clutched her backpack nervously under- neath the table. It's okay, she told herself. Ivy isn't scared of them.

"What a surprise!" the girl leading the meeting said coolly. "You guys are late."

"Sorry, Melissa," said one Beast sarcastically as he and his friends grabbed seats. "We had to, uh, grab a bite."

The other Beasts guffawed dumbly, but every- one else just groaned.

"You wish," said a girl with a streak of white in her hair.

"As I was saying," Melissa snapped, calling the meeting back to order. "The first thing we need to do is pick a theme. Let's brainstorm."

People started calling out ideas. A boy with a shaved head said, "What about a costume ball?"

"Or a forest party?" suggested the girl with the white streak. "Like where everybody dresses up as trees and things? We could do it in the woods."

"The Ball of the Future?"

"What if everybody had to wear something purple?"

"I once went to a sweet sixteen where there was an ice cream bar, and people were seriously into it."