Jenny opened the door for Olivia. ‘So, um . . . how is the planning coming?’ She raised her eyebrows, looking hopeful.
‘I guess we’ll find out,’ Olivia said, smiling.
‘So, what are you wearing to the dance?’ Jenny asked, keeping pace alongside Olivia as she made her way around the room, trying to figure out the best place to set up for the meeting.
‘I haven’t even had time to think about it! But I can’t be the worst dressed when I’m chairing the whole dance!’
‘Don’t worry,’ Jenny replied quickly. ‘You’ve still got plenty of time. I’m sure you’ll find something that Jackson Caulfield will totally love.’
‘If he can come,’ Olivia murmured.
Inside the common room, three girls from the grade above Olivia had taken a huddle of comfy seats. Olivia thought she recognised them from the cafeteria. That’s odd. I didn’t think people from the grades above us got involved with the committee. She pulled her shoulders back and strode up to the front of the room. The girl in the middle of the three stood up, extending a hand to Olivia.
‘Well, hello . . . Olivia, is it?’ The girl wore a pair of cropped white jeans, to-die-for wedges, and a bright yellow halter top that matched her long ponytail. ‘I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Lucrezia. And this is Melinda and Veronica.’
‘Nice to meet –’ Olivia started.
‘But don’t worry about learning our names. You can just call each of us “Boss”.’
Boss? A worm of anxiety burrowed into Olivia’s stomach. She glanced over at Jenny for support, but her eyes were glued to the floor. Was this why she had been so eager to give up her position? Other committee members were walking into the room now, settling into seats.
‘It’s so nice of you to join us.’ Olivia put on a big smile.
‘You two can go ahead and show yourselves to your seats.’ Lucrezia’s tone was sickly-sweet. Olivia looked around, but now that the other committee members had arrived, there was only a pair of hard wooden stools standing isolated in the corner. ‘Those will do.’ Lucrezia had noticed Olivia looking at the stools.
Jenny went obediently over to one of the empty stools. But Olivia didn’t budge.
‘Let’s cut to the chase.’ Lucrezia twirled a strand of her ponytail around one finger. ‘We’re in charge of this dance, no matter who’s officially on the committee, got it? We ran it last year and we’re going to do the exact same thing this year. We just want to make sure everyone’s on the same page. Are we?’
Perched sadly on her stool, Jenny looked like a moulting parakeet. Was Olivia really going to join her? Then she remembered her dad’s cryptic Zen advice: ‘A wise man makes his own decisions; an ignorant man follows public opinion.’
‘Excuse me,’ Olivia piped up, smiling her brightest smile. ‘I think there must be some confusion. Girls in my grade organise the dance, so, if you don’t mind scooting over, I can get to organising.’
Melinda – or was it Veronica? – jumped out of her chair and looked ready to say something, when she froze. Olivia traced her gaze to the back of the room. The door was swinging shut behind Charlotte, and she had a camera on her shoulder.
‘Sorry,’ Charlotte mouthed, and then her loud voice cut the tense atmosphere. ‘Pretend I’m not here. Act natural!’
When Olivia turned back, Melinda, Lucrezia and Veronica were acting anything but natural. All three had bright smiles plastered across their lips. Clearly, none of them wanted to be caught on camera acting like total bullies. Which is exactly what they are, Olivia reminded herself. No way are they pushing me around!
Lucrezia patted Olivia on the back. ‘How silly of us to forget that it was your grade in charge of the dance.’ She levelled her stare, meeting Olivia’s eyes. ‘Please call us if you need any help.’
To Olivia’s relief, the girls traipsed out one after the other. Jenny watched them depart, then cast Olivia an apologetic glance.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, standing up off the stool. ‘Those girls . . .’
Olivia cleared her throat and rolled her eyes towards the camera that Charlotte still had trained on them.
‘I know!’ she said in a bright voice. ‘They’re so kind to offer to help.’
A shiver ran down Olivia’s spine. Of course. Those girls don’t want to look mean in front of the camera! But how long will Charlotte’s filming be able to hold them off? Olivia’s guess was not long, because at the doorway Melinda span on her heel and shot her a look so nasty it made her want to take a bath.
‘Yikes,’ Jenny muttered under her breath. ‘Well . . . I knew I chose the right chairperson.’
Olivia wasn’t so sure. She’d started feeling a little woozy. She may have won this battle, but she definitely had not won the war.
‘Hey, Olivia!’ Charlotte beckoned her over. ‘Want to get a sneak peek of our interview from the other day?’
‘Absolutely!’ Olivia said, feeling her enthusiasm come back. This was supposed to be fun, and she wasn’t going to let three wannabe pageant-queens on a power trip ruin that.