Olivia shouted, “Hold that smile!” and rushed to show Ivy the first cheer. She’d specifically picked one that she thought her sister would like.
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, Hate to beat you, but we must. When you’re up, you’re up. When you’re down, you’re down. When you’re messing with the Devils, You’re up (clap, clap) side (clap, clap) down (clap, clap)!”
Olivia finished with a big smile, her fists raised, her ponytail bobbing. “Okay,” she said, “now you try it!”
Her sister skulked into position.
From the neck up, Ivy was even worse than Olivia had feared. She was a total mumbler, and her smile kept sliding off her face.
From the neck down, though, Olivia almost couldn’t believe what she saw. Ivy hit every handclap in perfect time; her jumps were high; her splits showed great flexibility; and she even threw in a back flip at the end that she stuck perfectly.
Ivy looked at her expectantly.
Olivia put on her best poker face and said, “Let’s try another one.” This time, she did a much more complicated cheer. The girls on her old squad had called it the Washer-Dryer because it involved so much tumbling. It ended in three consecutive round-offs.
Ivy did it perfectly on her first try—except that she did four round-offs. When she finally came to a stop, her back was less than a foot from the wall of her house.
“Wow!” said Olivia.
“Told you so,” said Ivy, returning with a smirk on her face and her arms crossed.
“If we can get your yelling and smiling up to speed, we might just get away with this,” Olivia admitted.
“Can’t I just lip-synch?” Ivy asked, kicking the ground.
Olivia wrinkled her nose. “Sorry, but no.”
By the end of the hour, Olivia had taught Ivy four cheers, which was one more than Olivia had planned for. Ivy was a really quick learner. To end the session, Olivia put her hands on her sister’s shoulders and said, “Tonight, I want you to bury your head in your pillow and yell your head off. Okay?”
“I’ll do my best,” Ivy agreed. They hugged good-bye.
Olivia skirted the side of the house and bounded down the long driveway. She’d promised her mom she’d help make dinner to celebrate the unpacking of the final moving box.
She felt so much better. For the last three days, Olivia had been worried sick about how in the world she was going to train Ivy and be ready for tryouts herself. But today’s practice had changed all that. With a partner as good as Ivy, they’d both be in stellar shape! She skipped into the cul-de-sac at the end of the driveway.
“Hello, Olivia,” a familiar voice said coolly.
Charlotte Brown was standing in the next driveway, which led up to a peach-colored bungalow. Olivia had totally forgotten that she and Ivy were next-door neighbors.
“Hi, Charlotte,” Olivia said tentatively.
“Did you have fun at Ivy’s house?” Charlotte asked.
Good thing we didn’t practice in the front yard, Olivia thought. “Yeah. It was great,” she said vaguely.
Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t get you, Olivia,” she said. “You’re a good cheerleader. You could really have a future with us. But”—she shrugged—“if you want to be a gravedigger, that’s your choice.” She turned and started trotting away up the driveway. “Just don’t expect any of us normal girls to be in your cult!” she called over her shoulder.
As she headed home, Olivia marveled at how much had changed since she’d first met Charlotte last week. I can’t believe I actually thought Charlotte Brown would be my new best friend, she thought. Gross!
Chapter 9
“What about a big box of props for the photographs, so that people can pretend to stake each other?” Sophia asked eagerly as she added a chocolate brownie to her lunch tray.
Ivy tried to nod enthusiastically, but her best friend was driving her seriously batty. Lately the ball was all that Sophia wanted to talk about. Ivy scanned the cafeteria for a place to sit. Holly and Collette were both studying for a test in the library, so Ivy knew she had to do something to avoid an entire lunch debating streamers versus balloons.
She spotted Olivia sitting in the corner with Camilla Edmunson, who Ivy and Sophia both knew because she occasionally wrote for the school paper. “Let’s sit over there,” Ivy suggested. At least with them Sophia would have to take a break from the ball.
“With the bunnies?” Sophia said skeptically. “Why not?” Ivy answered. “You always like Camilla’s book reviews.”