Girls Only! (5 page)

“Seems like ‘Hot Pink’ would’ve stashed her books in
here by now,” Suzy said, peering into the locker. “Real weird, isn’t it?”

“Sure is.”

Just then a girl with short, dark hair came bouncing down the hallway. “Ex-
cuse
me,” she called to Livvy and Suzy. “Is that
my
locker?”

Suzy’s eyebrows shot up. Playfully, she jabbed Livvy. “Could this be Hot Pink?” she whispered.

Livvy groaned. “Oh great.”

Suzy spun away to her own locker just as the girl came rushing up.

But Livvy stood her ground. “I’m assigned to this locker, too. We’re locker partners for the year.”

The girl stepped back, eyeing the upper shelf. “Looks like you’ve made yourself right at home.”

“It was hard
not
to. I mean, I’ve never seen a carpeted locker before. You did a super job of decorating.”

Hot Pink frowned, staring at the top section. “I was planning to use the upper shelf, but if you really want it . . .”

Livvy wasn’t going to quarrel. New or not, she didn’t need a hassle. “No, this is fine.” She reached up and removed her books from the carpeted shelf. Squatting on the floor, she arranged them in her book bag.

Meanwhile, Hot Pink began to organize the bright shelf with her books. “It’ll be tight quarters—with all my books and yours—but let’s try to keep everything separate.”

“Super.”

Hot Pink whirled around. “What did you say?”

Livvy stood up. “I said, ‘super.’ ”

And for the first time since Hot Pink had arrived, the two girls looked into each other’s faces.

Unbelievable
, thought Livvy. Her locker partner could’ve passed for her pen pal’s older sister. She recalled Jenna’s school picture—the waist-length hair and the big smile.

Livvy continued to gawk. “Are you . . . could you be related to someone named Jenna Song? She lives near here.”

Hot Pink burst out laughing. “Related?”

“It’s just that you look so much like her.” Livvy smiled, jostling her book bag. “Do you happen to know Jenna? Because she’s my pen pal.”

Hot Pink’s eyes popped wide open. “You’re . . . you’ve gotta be kidding.”

“No, I’ve been writing to Jenna for several months now,” Livvy said, wondering why the girl seemed so surprised.

“Are you an ice skater?” asked Hot Pink.

Livvy gulped. “How did you know?”

The girl gasped and covered her mouth. “Livvy? Olivia Hudson? What are
you
doing here?”

“I . . . I just moved here.” She stared at her locker partner. “How do you know my name?”

“Because
I’m
your pen pal. I’m Jenna Song!”

Livvy was speechless. “You’re Jenna? But your picture, your long hair—”

“The picture I sent you was last year’s school picture. Besides, I had my hair cut short for school. It was a pain always putting my hair up for gymnastics and ballet.”

All of a sudden they were hugging and giggling. “I wrote you a letter about moving,” Livvy tried to explain. “Did you get it?”

“No, but that’s because
we
were moving at the same time.”

Livvy was going to burst. “I can’t believe this! Why’d you move
here?
”

“Because my dad is the new pastor at the Korean church.”

She grabbed her skate bag and closed the locker. “So that’s why we’re going to the same school!”

Jenna was still laughing as the two of them headed for the bus stop. “This is just too cool.”

“I wonder how long it would’ve taken for us to actually meet.”

Jenna smoothed her hair. “You mean if we hadn’t been assigned the same locker?”

“It’s super, isn’t it?” Livvy meant it with all of her heart.

The girls waited for the bus together, still chattering about their first day of school.

“Where do you live?” asked Jenna.

“Main Street . . . in the tallest Victorian on the block.” She didn’t say the ugliest.

“My house is a couple of streets south of there. You’ll have to visit sometime.”

“Maybe we can have a sleepover.”

Jenna’s grin reached from ear to ear. “Are you trying out for cheerleading?”

“Probably not.”

“How come?”

She told Jenna about her plan to keep skating without a coach. “It’ll be tough, but I’m not quitting.”

“I don’t blame you. You were right on track for the Olympics.”

“Well, not quite
that
close.”

Jenna turned to face her. “You’re really good for your age. C’mon, Livvy, I don’t know of many sixth-grade girls who reach novice level.”

She couldn’t deny it. But at the same time, she didn’t want to think about what she’d given up back home.

“Why’d you and your dad move to Colorado anyhow?”

“Dad thought we needed a change of scenery,” Livvy said. That was all she wanted to say. At least for now.

The bus pulled up to the curb just then. They waited for a group of kids to get on, then hurried up the steps and back as far as they could sit.

“So did you move because of your mom?” asked Jenna, her eyes full of concern.

Livvy felt horribly uncomfortable. She couldn’t allow herself to talk about personal things. Not with Diane Larson sitting across the aisle, giving her the eyeball every other second. “Maybe we can talk later . . . in private. Okay?”

Jenna seemed to understand. “I’ll call you tonight.”

They exchanged phone numbers, and when the bus stopped in front of the little mall, Livvy slid out of the seat.

“Hey, where’re you going?” Jenna called to her.

“To the ice rink.” She couldn’t help but notice Diane’s hard frown. No way was
she
going to interfere with Livvy’s skating plans.

Jenna leaped out of her seat. “Wait up, Livvy!”

Thrilled beyond belief, she waited for her hot-pink friend to catch up.

“You’re just like me,” Jenna declared as they walked toward the mall entrance. “Completely obsessed.”

“That’s a good thing, I hope.”

“Super good,” Jenna added.

And they laughed at Jenna’s use of Livvy’s favorite word.

Dreams on Ice

Chapter Nine

She folded the letter and slid it into the middle drawer of her desk. Just in case she thought of something else to write. Like a P.S. or something.

After supper, the phone rang.

“I’ll get it,” Livvy called over the noise of the sander. She picked up the portable phone in the kitchen. “Hudson residence, Olivia speaking.”

“Listen, and listen good,” said a muffled voice. “Go back to where you came from.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not saying this twice—you’re not welcome here!”

Livvy didn’t bother to wait for more. She felt weak in the legs and hung up.

“Who was on the line?” her dad called from the dining room. He’d stopped sanding partway through the phone call.

“Wrong number, I guess.”

He went right back to making more racket. Livvy was relieved. She didn’t want to tell him that someone at school was trying to frighten her. Probably Diane Larson. She was almost positive that’s who had called, disguising her pitiful little voice.

The phone rang again.

Livvy’s heart thumped. What should she say if it was the same person? She didn’t want to lose her cool. The girl had no right to terrorize her!

Cautiously, she picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Jenna.”

Livvy was so relieved, she started laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

Livvy explained. “I just got this bizarre call. It was so mysterious and . . . garbled, kinda. Like maybe the person didn’t want me to know who was calling.”

“Who do you think it was?” Jenna asked.

Livvy breathed deeply. “Might’ve been Diane Larson. She hates me, and I don’t know why.”

“Who’s this girl, anyway?” asked Jenna.

“She shares the locker next to us . . . with Suzy Buchanan. The locker with all the gum wrappers.”

“Oh yeah, I remember. Introduce me tomorrow, okay?” Jenna said.

“I’ll give it a shot, but if Diane really wants me outta
here, she won’t stand still long enough to meet my best friend. Not if I’m the one doing the introductions.”

“Are you sure Diane feels that way?”

“Positive.”

“I wonder why.”

“That’s what I’m gonna find out,” said Livvy.

They went on to talk about school and all their different subjects. Homeroom too.

“Middle school’s so much better than grade school,” Jenna said. “The biggest hassle is keeping all my teachers straight.”

“I know what you mean. But maybe by the end of the week we’ll know who’s who.” She hoped to steer their conversation away from personal things. “Isn’t it cool, both of us being the new girls together?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Then Jenna excused herself. It sounded like she’d clamped her hand over the receiver.

Livvy could hear another voice in the background. She waited, wondering what was happening on the other end at the Song residence.

“Okay, I’m back,” said Jenna. “My mom wants to know if you and your dad would like to come for supper this Saturday.”

Livvy was speechless. She’d love to meet Jenna’s parents, but she wasn’t so sure if her dad would. He was mostly distant since Mom died. Especially around strangers.

“Tell your mom thanks, but I’ll have to check with Dad. He’s remodeling our house right now . . . the place is kind of trashed. Maybe when it’s finished.”

“Are you saying you might not come?”

She didn’t want to offend her friend. Not for anything. “I’ll have to ask.”

“Okay. Just let me know.”

Livvy felt suddenly anxious to get off the phone. “Sorry things are so messed up right now, Jen. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Everything okay?”

“Well, not exactly. But we’ll talk later.”

“Wait, Livvy . . .”

“I’ve got so much homework. Talk to you tomorrow. Bye.” She hung up, feeling lousy. She’d shut out her dearest and best friend.

What
was
she thinking?

Dreams on Ice

Chapter Ten

Livvy awoke long before the clock radio sounded. She hadn’t slept well. Her dreams had been disturbing.

The morning turned out lousy, too, including the discovery of curdled milk. She skipped eating cereal and had two pieces of toast and jelly and some applesauce instead.

At the rink, she missed nearly every jump. And when she tried her best camel spin, she toppled. Getting up, she worried that someone might’ve seen her pathetic performance. But when she glanced around, Livvy saw only an elderly man sitting on a bench near the rink. Tall and dressed for church or somewhere else special, the man looked like anyone’s grandfather. No need to worry, she decided.

At about 6:45 a group of younger skaters showed up.
Three girls and two boys. Livvy wondered where their instructor might be, but no adult arrived.

She pushed herself for an additional ten minutes, inching up her total skate time to a full half hour. Back home, there had been many days of two forty-minute sessions before school. Here in Podunk, she seemed to lose her focus after only one session.

Getting up the nerve, she skated over to one of the girls. “Where’s your instructor?”

“She’ll be here any minute now,” said the girl. “Our coach likes us to warm up on our own sometimes.”

Livvy hadn’t seen this group of skaters before. “Do you skate here often?” she asked.

“Three times a week. On Saturdays we drive to Colorado Springs to the World Arena. It’s fabulous.”

“How far away?”

“Less than an hour.”

“Thanks,” Livvy said, feeling all jittery. If Colorado Springs was so close, maybe she could find herself a coach there. She’d have to get her dad to agree.
That
would be the biggest hurdle!

On the walk home, she thought of all the things she wanted to talk over with Dad. Ballet lessons, the Saturday night dinner invitation, and the possibility of having a new coach. And there was the problem of the spoiled milk, too.

Should she mention everything at once? Making sure
the milk was fresh should be high on the list. Unless, of course, they could afford to have milk delivered to the house.

Livvy watched as the quaint little milk truck made its way down the street, stopping at one house, then the next.

“Things are falling apart here, Mom,” she said into the air as she hurried home. “Sometimes I wonder if you can see how mixed up our lives are.”

Then, just in case her mom
could
hear her complaining, she quickly added, “Please, Mom, don’t worry . . . we’ll make it somehow. I know we will.”

For another whole block, she forced herself to walk quietly, without mumbling to her mother. It was hard, but she made it.

When the gray-and-white Victorian came into view, she quickened her pace. The skate bag bounced as she ran up the front steps and into the house. “Daddy, can we talk?” she called to him. Not waiting for an answer, she hurried into the kitchen. To the fridge.

There, on the top shelf, stood an unopened half gallon of fresh milk.

She heard footsteps and spun around. “Oh, Daddy, thanks for getting some more milk!” She ran to him, wrapping her arms around him.

“It’s just milk, kiddo. No big deal.”

But it
was
a big deal. One less thing on her mental
list of concerns. She couldn’t remember feeling so relieved.