was grit her teeth. Her last chance to kiss Jackson was ruined – and now there was no escape.
Garrick Stevens was going to be her first kiss.
Chapter Nine
I vy looked out across the lobby of the theatre where friends, family and what seemed like every girl under the age of sixteen within a twenty-mile radius were milling around.
One girl with blonde pigtails was flipping through the specially printed programmes. ‘What do you mean he isn’t Romeo? Isn’t this
Romeo and Juliet
?’
Her black-haired friend pointed to a page. ‘It says here that he’s some kind of cyborg.’
‘Well,’ replied Pigtails, ‘I don’t care if it’s science fiction or science class, as long as I’ve gota seat up close! I didn’t buy this ticket off eBay to sit at the back.’
Ivy rolled her eyes, but at least having Jackson in the cast helped Camilla’s directorial debut become the fastest sell-out production in Franklin Grove Middle School’s history.
But the only two audience members she cared about right now were obviously not following instructions. They were late.
She looked past the dolled-up girls and spotted a solo figure in a simple, dashing black suit and a mandarin-collared white shirt, almost hiding behind a pot plant.
‘Dad!’ Ivy shouted.
He was staring in completely the wrong direction. Ivy only had fifteen minutes to round him up, find Aunt Rebecca, get them to their reserved seats
and
be backstage before the curtain went up.
‘VIP number one spotted,’ she reported to Sophia over the headphones. ‘VIP number two, unaccounted for.’
‘Check,’ Sophia replied. ‘Twelve minutes.’
A red sweater dress caught Ivy’s attention. It was Rebecca on the opposite side of the lobby, by the ladies’ room.
Ivy marched over to her dad. ‘Hi, Dad, not much time, got to keep moving,’ she said in one breath.
‘OK, Ivy.’ He stumbled along, trying to keep up. ‘All going well backstage?’
‘We are on target,’ Ivy confirmed. ‘Except for you and Aunt Rebecca.’ She gave him a pointed look.
‘My apologies –’ he began.
‘No time!’ Ivy cut him off. By then, they had reached the opposite corner of the lobby. ‘Aunt Rebecca, it is lovely to see you; you lookso nice; please come this way.’
‘Goodness,’ Rebecca said. She’d matched knee-high boots with her red sweater dress and an embossed brown leather belt. ‘You are efficient!’
‘I’ve saved seats for you,’ Ivy replied, pushing open the glass doors, manoeuvring past the people taking their seats at the back of the theatre and leading them down the centre aisle of the school theatre.
‘You are there,’ she said to Mr Vega and he obediently moved in to sit down next to Brendan. ‘And you are there.’
‘There?’ A flicker of awkwardness flashed across Aunt Rebecca’s face.
Ivy realised what she’d done. She should have ‘accidentally’ saved them separate seats. Rebecca wasn’t exactly long-lost friends with her dad and Brendan was probably on her least-favourite-personlist at the moment. But it was too late now. The show was sold out and she didn’t have time to move things around.
‘Ten minutes,’ came Sophia through the headset.
Ivy put on a bright face, hoping to get away as fast as she could. ‘Yup, right there. Best seats in the house.’
‘Uh, thanks,’ Rebecca replied. She smoothed her dress and sat down next to Mr Vega. ‘Good evening,’ she said stiffly.
‘Good evening,’ he replied.
She didn’t even acknowledge Brendan.
‘I hope you enjoy the show!’ Ivy wanted to smack her own forehead, but there wasn’t even time to do that.
As she hurried up the steps, she heard Mr Vega go straight to the subject Ivy was hoping to avoid tonight.
‘Any news about Lucky?’ he asked.
Ivy knew there wasn’t. She’d been texting all day and all week. They hadn’t found any trace of Lucky.
Ivy forced all thoughts of the horse out of her mind. She had to get through the show and then she could
Garrick Stevens was going to be her first kiss.
Chapter Nine
I vy looked out across the lobby of the theatre where friends, family and what seemed like every girl under the age of sixteen within a twenty-mile radius were milling around.
One girl with blonde pigtails was flipping through the specially printed programmes. ‘What do you mean he isn’t Romeo? Isn’t this
Romeo and Juliet
?’
Her black-haired friend pointed to a page. ‘It says here that he’s some kind of cyborg.’
‘Well,’ replied Pigtails, ‘I don’t care if it’s science fiction or science class, as long as I’ve gota seat up close! I didn’t buy this ticket off eBay to sit at the back.’
Ivy rolled her eyes, but at least having Jackson in the cast helped Camilla’s directorial debut become the fastest sell-out production in Franklin Grove Middle School’s history.
But the only two audience members she cared about right now were obviously not following instructions. They were late.
She looked past the dolled-up girls and spotted a solo figure in a simple, dashing black suit and a mandarin-collared white shirt, almost hiding behind a pot plant.
‘Dad!’ Ivy shouted.
He was staring in completely the wrong direction. Ivy only had fifteen minutes to round him up, find Aunt Rebecca, get them to their reserved seats
and
be backstage before the curtain went up.
‘VIP number one spotted,’ she reported to Sophia over the headphones. ‘VIP number two, unaccounted for.’
‘Check,’ Sophia replied. ‘Twelve minutes.’
A red sweater dress caught Ivy’s attention. It was Rebecca on the opposite side of the lobby, by the ladies’ room.
Ivy marched over to her dad. ‘Hi, Dad, not much time, got to keep moving,’ she said in one breath.
‘OK, Ivy.’ He stumbled along, trying to keep up. ‘All going well backstage?’
‘We are on target,’ Ivy confirmed. ‘Except for you and Aunt Rebecca.’ She gave him a pointed look.
‘My apologies –’ he began.
‘No time!’ Ivy cut him off. By then, they had reached the opposite corner of the lobby. ‘Aunt Rebecca, it is lovely to see you; you lookso nice; please come this way.’
‘Goodness,’ Rebecca said. She’d matched knee-high boots with her red sweater dress and an embossed brown leather belt. ‘You are efficient!’
‘I’ve saved seats for you,’ Ivy replied, pushing open the glass doors, manoeuvring past the people taking their seats at the back of the theatre and leading them down the centre aisle of the school theatre.
‘You are there,’ she said to Mr Vega and he obediently moved in to sit down next to Brendan. ‘And you are there.’
‘There?’ A flicker of awkwardness flashed across Aunt Rebecca’s face.
Ivy realised what she’d done. She should have ‘accidentally’ saved them separate seats. Rebecca wasn’t exactly long-lost friends with her dad and Brendan was probably on her least-favourite-personlist at the moment. But it was too late now. The show was sold out and she didn’t have time to move things around.
‘Ten minutes,’ came Sophia through the headset.
Ivy put on a bright face, hoping to get away as fast as she could. ‘Yup, right there. Best seats in the house.’
‘Uh, thanks,’ Rebecca replied. She smoothed her dress and sat down next to Mr Vega. ‘Good evening,’ she said stiffly.
‘Good evening,’ he replied.
She didn’t even acknowledge Brendan.
‘I hope you enjoy the show!’ Ivy wanted to smack her own forehead, but there wasn’t even time to do that.
As she hurried up the steps, she heard Mr Vega go straight to the subject Ivy was hoping to avoid tonight.
‘Any news about Lucky?’ he asked.
Ivy knew there wasn’t. She’d been texting all day and all week. They hadn’t found any trace of Lucky.
Ivy forced all thoughts of the horse out of her mind. She had to get through the show and then she could
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