At that, Ivy’s entire adoring crowd swung round to glare at Olivia. Every goth eyed her up and down with curled lips and frowns . . . then turned their attention back to Ivy.
Dismissed, Olivia realised. She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to keep her head high. Whatever!
Maybe Ivy’s goth-fans didn’t approve of her sparkly pink outfit, but that didn’t stop it from being fabulous . . . right?
Right, she told herself firmly. But she couldn’t help a small voice in her head from asking: Why is Ivy staying with them even after she saw them do that? Olivia had never seen her looking so helpless or so overwhelmed . . . but she knew her twin. Ivy was the strongest person she’d ever met. Why wasn’t she just speaking her mind to her ‘fans’ and walking away? She isn’t secretly enjoying all this attention . . . is she?
Olivia took a deep breath and forced the suspicion aside. Leaving Ivy and her fan club behind, she started down the hall, following the locker numbers higher. But she couldn’t forget what she’d just seen. Who knew Ivy would turn into Most Popular Girl at School? she thought wryly. Just wait for the yearbook!
She had to weave her way through the mass of older goths in the hallway as she headed for the junior and senior lockers. There really are a LOT of goths here, she realised. Does that explain why Ivy’s so popular?
As she waited for a space to clear, Olivia suddenly came face to face with the most gothabulous senior girl she’d ever seen . . . and the most confused-looking one, too. She looked Olivia up and down, shaking her head in amazement and making her heavy silver earrings jangle.
‘Is something wrong?’ Olivia asked.
‘Oh, come on, Ivy,’ the older goth-girl said. She crossed her arms over her leather jacket. ‘Are you really so bothered by being liked that you’ve gone “alternatively” mainstream? Or did you just get into a wrestling match with a Glitter Goblin?’
Ouch! Olivia couldn’t help glancing down at her sparkly top. Maybe this isn’t my favourite souvenir any more, after all.
Then she took a deep breath. Yes, it is, she told herself. Whatever this girl thinks of it! Still, she found herself shifting her bag to cover it up as she answered, swallowing down her hurt for the second time that morning. ‘Sorry for being so mainstream,’ she said coolly, ‘but that’s because I’m not Ivy. I’m Olivia, Ivy’s twin.’
‘Oh.’ The older girl stepped backwards, frowning. ‘I’m Amelia Thompson.’
And you’re not apologising for being rude, are you, Olivia thought. Hmm . . .
‘Hey, you were in the newspapers, weren’t you?’ Amelia’s eyes narrowed. ‘Back when Jackson Caulfield came to town. You two are making Eternal Sunset now, right?’
Olivia smiled. Just thinking of Jackson was enough to make her lips stretch into a goofy grin. My boyfriend . . . she thought giddily. ‘That’s right!’
‘Hmm.’ Amelia’s pale face hardened. ‘That’s one of my favourite books. I hope you guys don’t mess it up.’
Olivia felt the smile stiffen on her face. ‘I’ll try my best not to,’ she said.
Amelia didn’t reply . . . and as Olivia gazed at the older girl, she wondered: was her expression actually supposed to be threatening? Or did she just never smile?
With an impatient sniff, Amelia swept past, silver jewellery clanking and black-painted lips pursed. Olivia shook her head in bafflement.
What a weird encounter.
Ivy had said this school was bizarre. It was more than bizarre – it was . . . it was . . .
There’s not even a word for it! Olivia decided.
Blowing out her breath, she pushed forwards to find her locker, weaving through a cluster of skater-boys on the way. Most of them ignored her as if she didn’t even exist, but one of them – a lean, tall blond senior – moved aside politely to let her pass.
‘But come on, dude,’ one of the others said. ‘If you really want to get air, you have to –’
Spreading out his arms, he leaped up, miming skateboarding as his friends applauded. The blond boy shook his head, grinning.
‘No way, bro. Watch and learn. If you want the best way to get air –’
. . . Try breathing in, then out? Olivia thought wryly. She opened her mouth to make the joke.
Then she saw the intent looks on all the boys’ faces, and sighed. She didn’t think any of them would find it funny. As the blond launched into his own high-leaping mime, she turned to the line of lockers, squinting to find her own locker number among all the black paint. As soon as she spotted it, she started working on the combination lock. What was the code again? Three . . . forty-nine . . .
‘That’s it!’ a voice bellowed behind her. Olivia spun around, her breath catching.
A sour-faced teacher in a stiff grey jacket was charging towards the skater-boys, clearing the hallway in his wake. ‘Get off that skateboard this minute, Finn Jorgensen! What have I told you about skating indoors?’