Switched

Chapter 7

Ivy kicked off her boots, fell back on her bed, and grabbed one of her black cat pillows to her chest.

As her head swam, her heart went under.

What did he mean when he said he was scared to death? she wondered.

I can't believe I spilled my drink! But at least I didn't have to answer his question about whether I have a sister.

Was it an accident when his hand brushed against mine on the escalator?

He said we'd keep a running tally in air hockey. Does that mean he's going to ask me out again?

I never want to forget the look on his face when he said good-bye.

The phone rang, making Ivy jump. It rang again.

Maybe it's Brendan! She rolled over and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Greetings, Madam Head of Decorations," Sophia declared dramatically.

Ivy had completely forgotten about Olivia and the meeting. She sat up with a jolt. "Hi, Soph. What's up?"

"The deadliest All Hallows' Ball in history, that's what's up," Sophie replied delightedly.

The All Hallows' Ball? Ivy wondered.

"I'm supposed to be studying," Sophia bar- reled on, "but I just couldn't stop thinking of ideas. Like, what if you could have your picture taken with a cutout of that short old guy who was Grandpa on The Munsters?"

"The Munsters?" quavered Ivy.

"You know, that old TV show."

"Uh-huh," Ivy admitted. She was starting to feel seriously ill.

"Or I think it would be killer if we had coffins near the entrance, and you could get your picture taken getting out of one, right next to your date getting out of his coffin. Isn't that killer?" Sophia rattled on.

Ivy was dumbfounded. What did Olivia do?

"So?" Sophia asked expectantly. "What do you think?"

"Since when does it matter what I think?" Ivy asked, a little testily.

"Uh, since you came up with the theme, got elected head of decorations, and agreed to have the ball at your house," Sophia answered matter- of-factly.

WHAT? Ivy's head pounded. She lay back down on her bed.

"Speaking of which, did you talk to your dad yet?" Sophia asked.

"No, I did not speak to my dad yet!" Ivy answered incredulously.

After a long pause, Sophia said, "Ivy, are you feeling okay?"

"I . . . er, I'm sorry, Soph. I just . . . have a really grave headache. Can I call you back later?"

Ivy managed, and then she hung up, her hands trembling. I never should have let Olivia go to that meeting! she thought in a panic.

But then she thought of Brendan. If she hadn't gone through with the switch, she wouldn't have been able to go on the date. In fact, if it weren't for Olivia, she might never have spoken to Brendan at all.

Ivy let out a heavy sigh. She rummaged through her purse for her phone. She'd saved her sister's number on it when Olivia had borrowed it to call home.

"Abbott residence," Olivia answered perkily.

"It's me," Ivy said.

"Ivy! You're home!" Olivia squealed excitedly. "I tried you like fifteen minutes ago! How was it?"

"It was--" Ivy stopped. "It was perfect," she said at last. She heard Olivia gasp as if she'd just opened a wonderful present.

"I knew it," Olivia said softly.

Ivy was suddenly dying to tell her sister every- thing: where she and Brendan had gone, what he'd said, how he'd smelled, and how he had looked at her when they'd said good-bye. Instead she said, "Don't try to change the subject, Olivia. I specifically told you to sit in that meeting and not say anything."

"I know," Olivia said sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

"And not only did you not do that but you landed me the one job at which I'm guaranteed to be a disaster!"

"You won't be a disaster," Olivia protested.

"Oh, come on!" Ivy cried. "Ivy Vega, head of decorations? I don't like pressure, I don't like people, and I don't like decorating things."

"But you have great taste," her sister countered.

"Olivia, you don't understand.This is the most important event of the whole year for"--she just caught herself in time--"for our community."

"I'll help," offered Olivia.

"Thanks, but I think I've had enough of your help," Ivy said, rubbing her temples. "Besides," she added, "who says my dad will go for it?"

"Sophia," Olivia answered matter-of-factly. "You never told me your dad's an interior designer. Everybody seemed to think it was right up his alley."

Ivy groaned in frustration. It was true: her dad would be utterly delighted. He was always trying to get her to be more involved in the community. "With a name like Ivy," he was always saying, "you should be getting out and about more."

"I'm really sorry, Ivy. I completely understand why you're upset. I never should have signed you up for something like this. But Sophia says it's cool to be involved with the ball," Olivia said.

"It is," Ivy admitted. "But I can't do it, Olivia. I just can't."

"A few hours ago you said you couldn't go on a date with Brendan Daniels," argued Olivia, "and look how that turned out."

Ivy was speechless. She was still trying to come up with a suitable comeback when she heard her dad pick up the phone.

"Pardon me, Ivy," he said politely, "but it is time for dinner."

"I'll be up in a minute, Dad," Ivy answered softly. Her father hung up, and Ivy sighed. She felt so tired. For a moment she said nothing. "Meet me at Meat & Greet tomorrow at noon," she said finally to her sister, "and I'll let you know what my dad said."

"Great!" Olivia exclaimed on the other end of the phone. "So you'll ask him?"