“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 apologetically. She sounded like a little kid who knows she’s in trouble. “Every year, they use the same lifeless professional photographer with a combover, and I think I could do something seriously great and candid. But we have to be on the planning 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 concrete 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 reaction 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 sarcastic.
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, considering they were already running late, but she followed 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 cranberry 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 barreled 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.