11 Flying Solo - My Sister the Vampire (2 page)

Olivia’s adoptive dad, Mr Abbott, suddenly entered the frame on Ivy’s laptop. He was wrapped in a white bathrobe with the sash tied around his forehead. He was several feet away from the camera lens, in the middle of Olivia’s backyard, struggling to position two stools side-by-side and lay a plank of wood across the top.

This does not look good
. Ivy knew that Olivia’s dad was an amateur martial artist – was he going through his routines now? Ivy tried to stay very still so that he wouldn’t notice her image on the computer screen.
I don’t want to disturb him
.
If he breaks any bones, it won’t be my fault!

He took three steps back, slipping momentarily out of the picture, before charging forwards, arms raised in the air like a deranged whooping crane. ‘
Hiiiiiyyaaaaaaaah!
’ he screamed, slamming the side of his hand down on the plank.

Ivy cringed as Mr Abbott came away shaking his red karate-chopping hand. He picked up the plank and turned it around.
As if that’s going to help
, Ivy thought. She wanted to cover her eyes but it was like a car crash she couldn’t stop watching.

He wound up again, preparing for his running start. ‘
Hiiiiiyyaaaaaaaah!
’ he repeated. This time his hand smacked the stiff wood with such force that he lost his footing and slipped backwards, falling hard on the garden mulch.

‘Sorry about that.’ Olivia popped into the frame. She was stirring a bowl of cereal with a spoon. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail and she had a bright purple scarf looped round her neck. ‘Now, where were we?’

‘Um, Olivia?’ Ivy pointed over her twin’s shoulder. ‘Is your dad OK?’

Mr Abbott was struggling to roll over. The white sash tied around his forehead had fallen down over his eyes. ‘Did I break it?’ he moaned, crawling to his feet.

‘Not this time,’ called Olivia happily from just within the open French doors, before turning to whisper to Ivy. ‘Don’t worry. He’s trying to earn his yellow belt. Been working on that plank all week and hasn’t broken a finger yet.’ She shrugged. ‘So, how’s it going?’

‘Well,’ Ivy said, scooping up her laptop, ‘shall I give you the grand tour?’

‘Absolutely! Except right now the only thing I can see is a close-up of your cheek.’

‘Oops, sorry.’ Ivy pulled the webcam lens away from her face. She’d been cradling it as she span in her chair. She angled the video camera and the screen to face the room. ‘Better?’

‘Much!’

‘Here’s my closet.’ Ivy tried to do a quick sweep of the camera across the mess that was her wardrobe, but her sister wasn’t going to be fooled.

‘Ivy Vega,’ Olivia exclaimed. ‘Is that
your
closet? It looks like a natural disaster hit it! Go back, go back – I want to see the full horror.’ Reluctantly, Ivy turned the camera back on her closet. Crumpled T-shirts, skinny jeans and leggings littered the floor.

‘It’s not my fault!’ Ivy protested. ‘It’s cramped in here. See?’ She made a grand gesture with her arm. ‘This is the rest of my room. Well,
my
room that I share with five other girls.’ She showed Olivia the row of coffins that were arranged one on top of the other on wooden stilts, just like extra-special bunk beds with velvet-lined lids!

Photo collages of her room-mates and cool vintage posters of black-and-white Hollywood movies were plastered above the coffins, and each girl had a silver name plaque engraved in fancy script –
Petra, Katrina, Anastasia, Alexandra, Galina
and
Ivy
. Ivy had personalised her space by taping up a strip of pictures that she, Brendan and Olivia had taken in the photo booth outside the Franklin Grove movie theatre. Ivy was in the middle, making an exaggerated face of disgust, while Brendan and Olivia were kissing her cheeks on either side, smooshing her face in.
Good times
, thought Ivy, with a sudden twist in the pit of her stomach.

‘Oooh!’ Olivia gushed. ‘You have room-mates! How do you like them? Do you stay up late and gossip, or play Secrets and Lies?’ Olivia was remembering the vampire game they had played together at Tessa’s bachelorette party.

Ivy frowned. ‘They’re OK. But it’s not exactly an Ivy-friendly set-up, if you know what I mean. Six girls, six coffins. That means lots of chatter, especially after “nails-in”.’

‘
Nails-in?
’ echoed Olivia.

‘The vamp version of lights-out,’ explained Ivy, turning the camera back on herself.

‘Ah.’ Olivia giggled. ‘You’re not exactly Miss Sunshine most days, but a
sleep-deprived
Ivy? I bet that could scare even the most hardened vampire!’ At that, Olivia’s eyes went as wide as an anime character’s – not that Ivy could find any anime in Transylvania. It was all classic Russian novels and Victorian poetry.

‘OK, OK. Ha, ha. Enough with the fake shocked look.’ Ivy rolled her darkly lined eyes. ‘Surely I’m not
that
scary, especially not from several thousand miles away through a webcam.’

Olivia’s eyes were still round, and now she was shaking her head slowly. ‘No, it’s not that,’ she said in a hushed voice. ‘I don’t want to alarm you, but –’ she touched her finger to the screen – ‘I think there’s a bat in your dorm room!’

Ivy swivelled to check out the bat perched on top of the armoire. Its paper-thin wings were wrapped round its fuzzy brown body and its pointy ears stuck out from its head like an elf’s. She shrugged. ‘Oh, don’t worry, that’s just Ivan.’

‘Ivan?’ Olivia wrinkled her nose as if she’d just smelled week-old rubbish.

‘Yeah, everyone gets a bat on their first day at Wallachia. He’s harmless, but a little – what’s the word I’m looking for?’ She pressed a finger into her dimple, like she was thinking hard. ‘
Bitey
.’

Olivia shuddered. At least Ivy thought it was a shudder, but it could have been a glitch in the internet connection. Ivy was already getting tired of dealing with the difficulties of overseas communication. ‘No offence,’ Olivia was saying, ‘but if that’s the case, I might not be in a hurry to visit any time soon!’

Ivy swallowed hard. She knew her sister was joking, but she didn’t want Olivia to see that her joke had made her feel instantly homesick. ‘Anyway,’ Ivy said, trying to sound natural. ‘The bell for dinner is going to go soon. Will you be online later?’

‘Probably. I promised I’d help our bio-dad with some sort of “research project”.’ Olivia curved her fingers into air quotes. ‘Whatever that means. It’ll only take a few hours and then I’ll be back later,’ she continued, waving. ‘Oh, and Ivy?’

Ivy leaned forwards in her chair. ‘Yeah?’

‘I miss you.’

Ivy gave a weak smile and nodded in return. ‘I miss you too.’ Her stomach crawled up her throat as she reached for the mouse on her laptop.

‘Ciao!’

The chat window went black and Ivy shut down her computer. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Wallachia; it was just that she
really
liked Franklin Grove. Ivy grabbed her cable-knit sweater with the Wallachia crest from the back of the chair. She patted Ivan on the head, snatching her hand back when he tried to nip at her. ‘Watch it!’ she said, glaring at the beady-eyed bat.
My fingers would
not
make a tasty lunch!
she thought, sending silent messages to the small leathery mammal.
Don’t even try me
.

‘I’m out of here,’ she said, heading for the door. There was no point staying all alone, pining for Franklin Grove. Not with a whole school to explore!

The Wallachia Academy dining room was fancier than most of the restaurants Ivy had been to in her entire life. Round granite tables sprinkled the banquet hall, dappled with the light of a dozen sparkling chandeliers. Crystal goblets cast multi-coloured prisms on to the luxurious cream tablecloths. The tables had been set with baroque silverware and china nicer than the best stuff her father kept in their cabinets at home!

Petra, a fellow classmate whom Ivy had met as a guest at the vampire royal wedding, waved her over to a nearby table. Three slices of barely touched flank steak were piled on Petra’s plate, dripping in a creamy white sauce that made Ivy’s mouth water.

‘Hey, Ivy.’ A cool vintage pendant dangled from Petra’s neck. ‘Did you get in trouble today?’ Petra Tarasov wasn’t like some of the other Snobzillas at Wallachia, but Ivy still found her a bit hard to get to know. She was friendly enough, but it was almost as though there was an invisible wall between them, some secret that Ivy didn’t know. She had glossy brown hair that cascaded down to the middle of her back and there was always some piece of her Wallachia wardrobe that was a touch funky or offbeat. Petra didn’t seem ready to morph into a Wallachia clone – meaning she and Ivy had something in common, at least.

‘Trouble? Why would I have got in trouble?’ Ivy asked, sliding to the edge of her seat.

Petra fluttered her long eyelashes and raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Just something I heard, that’s all.’

Ivy narrowed her eyes. ‘Something you heard? OK . . .’ Being cautious was clearly still the way to go with Petra. Ivy wouldn’t write her off. Everyone had their funny little ways and Olivia was always reminding her to look for the best in people. In fact, Ivy could hear her now: ‘Everyone has a ray of sunshine in their heart, Ivy. You just need to find it.’ Normally a speech like that would have had Ivy gagging – not any more.
I swear I’ll never make another sarcastic comment ever again if I get back to Franklin Grove
.

A group of vamp girls were gathered around an open laptop propped up on one of the tables, giggling in high-pitched voices. Ivy caught a glimpse of a bright white smile and some tousled blond hair on screen. Petra clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes. ‘Ridiculous,’ she said. ‘Isn’t it?’

‘What’s ridiculous?’ Ivy craned her neck, but she couldn’t make out what they were looking at. Vampires, and especially Wallachia Academy vampires, were supposed to be the most super-cool beings in the world. Acting aloof was practically a national sport. So what could possibly be so amusing that it had reduced Ivy’s classmates into a group of twittering girlie-girls?

Petra flicked her wrist as if she were brushing away the whole scene. ‘It probably has to do with that American actor who announced he was single today. Now they can all go and daydream about having a shot with him.’ She pressed her palms together and held them to the side of her head like she was dreaming.

American actor . . .?
Ivy grabbed Petra’s arm so forcefully she nearly pulled her right out of her chair. ‘Which actor?’

Petra shook Ivy off and rubbed her arm. ‘Wow, you really need to get those powers under control. That blond-haired pretty boy, What’s-his-face.’ She snapped her fingers, thinking. ‘Jackson something?’

‘No!’ Ivy exclaimed. ‘Not Jackson! Jackson Caulfield?’ Olivia hadn’t said a word during their video-chat. She hadn’t even looked unhappy!

‘Obsessed much?’ A white-coated member of the Wallachia kitchen staff came over with a pitcher of O-negative and filled their crystal goblets with the bright red liquid. ‘I don’t know why the sudden interest,’ the woman went on. ‘It wasn’t even a good break-up. The press release called it “amicable”. Where’s the fun in that?’

‘The fun?!’ Ivy squeaked. ‘There
is
no fun!’ Petra stared at Ivy like she had squid tentacles coming out of her ears, but Ivy didn’t have time to explain. She bolted from the dining room, sprinting vampire-fast up the stone stairs, past the oil paintings in the wood-panelled corridor, to her dorm.

She slammed the door shut, jumped into her swivel chair and fired up the Lonely Echo program on her laptop. ‘Olivia?’ She jostled the mouse. ‘Olivia?’ But all Ivy could see was an image of Olivia’s empty garden. No Olivia in sight. Ivy’s heart did a nosedive.

Her poor sister had been broken-hearted and Ivy had spent the entire conversation talking about herself, showing Olivia stupid piles of clothes.
What kind of a twin am I?
She was supposed to have a sixth sense about this sort of thing. But, more importantly, why hadn’t Olivia mentioned anything? It wasn’t like her to keep her emotions bottled up – that was more Ivy’s speciality.

The sound of footsteps came through the monitor from Olivia’s back garden. Ivy leaned in to listen, breathing a sigh of relief. Her sister was coming back after all. ‘Hey, Olivia!’ she called. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about you and Ja–’

‘Oh, hello, Ivy.’ Mr Abbott’s face appeared upside down on the screen as he leaned over the computer from above, and Ivy nearly bit her tongue trying to stop herself from saying the J-word.

‘Um . . . um . . . Hi, Mr Abbott,’ Ivy stammered. He held up one finger to tell her to wait. He wandered round to the front of the computer so that his image was now the right way up.

‘Ah, that’s better.’ Ivy was glad to see that he had changed out of his karate gear and was now dressed in a maroon tank top and pleated khaki trousers – much more appropriate suburban dad-wear. ‘Good to see you, Ivy. How’s that fancy boarding school of yours? Are you enjoying it?’

‘Yeah, yeah. Definitely,’ said Ivy quickly, trying to peek around Mr Abbott’s head, which seemed to take up the entire frame. ‘Where’s Olivia?’ she asked before he could introduce any more questions of his own.