“It’s the most important secret you’ll ever know,” Ivy said simply.
Olivia took a deep breath. “I swear on our sisterhood,” she said at last.
Ivy pulled Olivia into the shade of the thorn bushes. Then she slowly lifted her hands up to her face and carefully popped out her contact lenses, one after the other.
Olivia put her hand to her mouth. “Your eyes are purple!”
“They’re violet,” corrected Ivy. She tried to smile. “Olivia,” she said, “I’m a vampire.” Olivia put her hands on her hips. “You are not.” Ivy nodded solemnly in response.
“You’re a vampire?” Olivia asked, bewildered. “For real?”
“And Sophia’s a vampire,” Ivy went on. “And the other people in my . . . community: they’re vampires, too. We have to wear contact lenses to protect our eyes from the sun.”
“Yeah, right,” Olivia said. “Like I’m going to believe that vampires have purple eyes!”
“Most don’t,” Ivy admitted matter-of-factly, putting her contacts back in. “My eyes are special. Bright yellow, luminous green—those are more normal.”
“Normal?” Olivia said dumbly.
“Uh-huh,” Ivy confirmed.
“That’s not in the Count Vira books,” Olivia said with a doubtful shake of her ponytail.
“Count Vira is fiction,” Ivy replied. “I’m a fact. We all have to wear special sunscreen, too,” she went on. “Vampire skin is very pale and sensitive. It’s completely different from yours.”
“Is that why your arm stopped bleeding?” Olivia asked.
“We heal super quickly,” Ivy explained.
Olivia suddenly took a step back. “You’re not going to suck my blood, are you?”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “Olivia, I’m your twin sister,” she said. “Do you think I’d be practicing cheerleading with you if I wanted to suck your blood?”
Olivia came back and examined Ivy’s arm closely. “But isn’t that what vampires do? Suck blood and kill people?”
“We don’t kill people at all. Ever,” Ivy said seriously. “It’s evil! And, besides, the risk of exposing our kind is too great. We haven’t sucked blood since the seventeenth century, when they burned half of us at the stake.”
“So how do you satisfy your insatiable thirst for hemoglobin?” Olivia pressed.
“My insatiable thirst for hemoglobin!?” Ivy repeated incredulously. “You have to start reading better books, Olivia. I go to BloodMart like everyone else. There’s one in the basement of FoodMart.”
Olivia nodded thoughtfully. Then her eyes lit up. “You have a reflection. You can’t be a vampire!” she declared triumphantly.
Ivy raised her eyebrows. “That’s a myth.”
“Oh,” said Olivia, deflated. “Do you sleep in a coffin?”
“Yes.” Ivy almost blushed. “That myth happens to be true.”
“But I saw your bed,” Olivia said.
“The quilts and pillows and stuff make it more comfortable when I’m doing homework. There’s a coffin underneath,” Ivy explained. “When I was little I was utterly jealous of Sophia and her sister’s bunk bed coffins,” she added wistfully.
“And you getting sick from Camilla’s lasagna?” Olivia prompted.
“Was a bit more than an allergic reaction,” Ivy admitted.
“You’re really serious,” Olivia breathed in amazement.