Girls Only! Page 3

  “Please, just put lots of action into the show,” Heather said, twirling her long golden hair. “Maybe even write in a ballet finale—we could do an encore for a change.”

  “Yes, an encore!” Jenna said.

  “Great idea,” said Heather.

  Livvy agreed, especially since they were all in ballet class together. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the pageant idea. But they’d have to work hard to pull it off, beginning with Jenna and her script. “How fast can you write the play?” she asked.

  “Probably in a couple days,” Jen said.

  “Wow, that fast?” Heather said. “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, she’s fast,” Manda piped up. “I’ve seen her do her double salto forward. She’s lightning.”

  “But can she write that fast?” Heather asked, teasing.

  Jenna pointed to her new computer. “Check it out.”

  Livvy chuckled. “Does your computer take dictation?”

  “Not yet, but someday.” Jenna was smiling.

  Livvy was excited about the program plan. But she felt terribly unsettled. When should she bring up the subject of her grandmother?

  Or should she keep quiet?

  * * *

  After refreshments of only healthy snacks—canned V8 juice and celery sticks with peanut butter—Jenna shared Livvy’s problem. Jen sat cross-legged on the floor, explaining the predicament. “Liv needs our support,” she told the others, eyes serious. “Her grandmother’s calling all the shots. On and off the ice.”

  Livvy fidgeted, then spoke up. “I didn’t want Jen to say anything. Not at first. But things are getting worse. And . . . I don’t want to be rude to her, but I really don’t know what to do.”

  “We’ll help,” Heather promised.

  “You know who your friends are,” Manda said.

  “How long has it been going on?” asked Heather.

  Livvy explained. “Well, when Grandma first came to live with us, things were pretty much okay. But more and more, her constant attention is suffocating.”

  “My grandparents are just the opposite,” Manda said. “Thank goodness! But if one of them came to live with us, well . . . I don’t know how that would work.”

  “Older people can get stuck in their ways,” Jenna said. “Who knows how my grandma would behave if she lived with us.”

  “Is she trying to be a mother replacement, maybe?” Heather said hesitantly.

  Livvy shook her head. “It’s hard to say what’s going on in Grandma’s head.”

  “Can you gently ask her to mind her own business?” Manda suggested, which brought a big laugh.

  “Seriously, though,” Livvy said, “I don’t want to hurt my grandmother’s feelings. She’s a big help around the house, cooking and doing other stuff. Besides, I think my dad would be lost without her.”

  Before the meeting was adjourned, Jenna prayed. She also encouraged each girl to pray for wisdom. “Liv really needs it.”

  “Yeah,” Livvy whispered, “so I won’t do the wrong thing.”

  Jen, Heather, and Manda gathered around and hugged her good-bye. All the way home, Livvy thought of Jenna’s prayer. “Help our Livvy know what to do, Lord. . . .”

  She smiled, remembering it as she walked the short distance home.

  “Our Livvy . . .”

  It was the sweetest prayer ever.

  Things have to get better now, she thought.

  Follow the Dream

  Chapter Six

  Sunday at church, Livvy spotted Kevin Bock in the foyer. He was tall, blond, and very cute. She didn’t want to interrupt because he was talking with his sister Heather and two other friends. Secretly, Livvy wished Kevin would notice her. Someday . . .

  But Kevin was a teenager, way cuter than most of the boys at church. There was no chance he’d think twice about a girl who was close to turning just twelve.

  Taking a deep breath, she walked past their group. She waved when Heather caught her eye, but kept going. She wanted to check her hair before Sunday school.

  She had been in the ladies’ room for less than a minute when Grandma came flying in. “Oh, Olivia, there you are!”

  Whirling around, she was startled by her grandmother’s entrance. “What is it?” asked Livvy.

  Grandma studied her, eyes unwavering. “I’m glad to know you’re still here . . . in the church,” she said.

  “Dad drove us both, remember?” Livvy wondered if Grandma’s mind was slipping. “Are you all right?” she asked softly.

  Grandma stood in front of the long mirror. She fluffed her hair with her skinny fingers—getting grayer by the second, it seemed. Then her grandmother freshened her pale pink lipstick. “Well, of course I’m all right. I wondered if you were headed off to Sunday school, that’s all.”

  “Where else would I go?”

  Grandma lowered her voice, glancing around a bit. “It’s just that I’ve noticed some of the young people over at the convenience store down the street.”

  “Oh, they’ll be back.” Livvy knew who her grandmother was referring to. A few of the kids liked to sneak off to get gum and candy.

  “Don’t you be one of them.” Grandma shook her finger at Livvy. “Hanging out at the store when the parents are thinking their young people are in church . . . Well, I should say!”

  Livvy wanted to say, “Just relax,” but bit her tongue. “I’m right here, Grandma. As you can see.”

  Grandma straightened her tan suit coat, then turned and tottered away tp the sink to wash her hands. Livvy took it to mean the conversation was finished. Eager to be gone, she flew out of the rest room and down the stairs to class. Of all the nerve, being accused of leaving church! She’d never thought of doing such a thing. What was Grandma’s problem, following her around everywhere?

  * * *

  In Sunday school, Livvy slid in beside Heather Bock, who was dressed in a floral skirt and soft green top. “You look pretty today,” she said. “New outfit?”

  Heather nodded, smiling. “Thanks.”

  Livvy almost expected Grandma to show up again to harass her further. “I think I must be paranoid,” she muttered.

  “What?” Heather whispered.

  Livvy shook her head. “Oh . . . nothing.”

  Heather leaned closer. “Your face is turning red.”

  She sighed audibly. How could she tell Heather? Honestly, she wanted to send Grandma Hudson packing. Back to Illinois.

  “Livvy? Since when do you bite your nails?” Heather asked.

  Astonished, she pulled her hand away from her mouth. Sure enough, she’d been gnawing away on her fingernails. “My life’s in shambles,” she said, staring at her hands. “Just like my nails are now.”

  “Your grandmother, right?” Heather sat up straight. Their Sunday school teacher had just entered the room.

  Livvy nodded. She remembered the prayer Jenna had prayed. How long could she possibly wait for an answer?

  * * *

  Early Monday morning, Livvy and Grandma drove to the skating rink. As usual, the village mall was deserted. Surrounded by numerous shops, the skating rink was smaller than the Olympic-sized rink in Colorado Springs. On weekends, she was thrilled to be able to practice there. The rest of the week, she made do with the small-town ice rink.

  Trees, with twinkling white lights the year round, adorned the sidelines. Several wooden benches were scattered around, making it possible for an occasional audience. There had been numerous times when mall shoppers stopped to watch her practice. They often clapped, whether she performed with or without music backup.

  Grandma paced behind the sidelines. “Let’s see your loop jumps today,” she said.

  Livvy ignored her, waiting for Coach to suggest some jumps. Grandma was way too pushy.

  She could just see it now. If something didn’t happen to stop her grandmother, she’d end up running off Livvy’s terrific athletic trainer. But by the look on the gentleman’s face, Coach Sterling didn’t seem frustrated
by Grandma’s comments. Not at all.

  Livvy just didn’t get it. Why didn’t Grandma’s comments annoy Coach, too? Was Coach interested in Grandma . . . romantically?

  Coach was talking now. “I think you should work through your entire spring program, Livvy. Complete with music.”

  She glanced up, surprised. But Coach was decidedly serious, so she took her center-ice stance. Counting the beats, she listened carefully to the introduction of “Give My Regards to Broadway.” It was a rousing version of the song, and Livvy loved every measure and stanza. Today there was one major reason: The music would easily drown out Grandma’s voice.

  Coach Sterling certainly knew how to handle things! She was beginning to feel encouraged, even jazzed about this small triumph. Maybe things were going to go better, after all.

  Toward the end of the session, Mrs. Newton, the fabric shop owner, showed up. Livvy was delighted. Mrs. Newton was one way for her grandmother’s attention to be less focused on what was happening on the ice. Spirits soaring, Livvy sailed through her entire program a second time. Near-perfect landings on every jump. She could hardly wait to tell Jenna!

  After practice, she was unlacing her skates when Mrs. Newton and Grandma came over. “You were quite stunning, Miss Livvy,” Mrs. Newton said. Her red bangle earrings swung back and forth as her head moved.

  Grandma poked the younger woman playfully. “Tell Olivia what we’ve been planning.”

  “Well,” Mrs. Newton began, “it seems your grandmother has an idea for a skating outfit.”

  Grandma’s eyes were shining. “Go on.”

  “She wants your opinion on the material,” Mrs. Newton informed her. “What do you say, Livvy?”

  What could she say? She held her breath, thinking she’d at least like to have a look at the pattern!

  “Olivia Kay, you simply must see the lovely fabric.” Grandma looked cunningly at Mrs. Newton. “I think you’re going to love it.”

  “What style is the outfit?” she asked.

  “Oh yes, of course! The pattern is very important,” Grandma blurted.

  Mrs. Newton winked at Livvy. The dear lady was attempting to downplay the situation.

  Grandma continued to talk about the material and the pattern during the drive back home. Livvy found it both a little comical and extremely frustrating. Two women concocting a plan to create a new costume. An unwanted, unnecessary spring costume!

  * * *

  At home, she showered and dressed for school. All the while, Livvy thought about the morning practice session. She actually felt proud of herself for a change! Yet she also felt tense, worrying about how things would go on Wednesday. What if Coach wanted to work on technical things instead, without music? What if Grandma didn’t have Mrs. Newton to chat with?

  One thing was super good, for sure. Mrs. Newton was getting involved with the new outfit. Livvy was definitely relieved about that. It wasn’t that Grandma couldn’t sew. She was a very capable seamstress. It went much deeper. Grandma was so out of touch with what was in vogue for modern-day skaters. In fact, she had no idea about new-millenium preteens at all!

  To think she was trapped living with an old relic of a grandmother! Why, Grandma might stay around till Livvy left home and headed off to college. Maybe even longer.

  What could be worse?

  Follow the Dream

  Chapter Seven

  Livvy was first to arrive at the school locker she shared with Jenna. She zipped through the combination and opened the locker. The locker was a mess.

  “What on earth!” She stared at its interior in disbelief. Someone had ripped out the pink carpet from the locker shelves so that only the bare metal was left. “Who did this?” Livvy muttered.

  Suzy Buchanan, perky and plump, stood near the locker next to Livvy’s. “I figured you already knew about it. Jenna tore out the carpet last Friday after school,” Suzy told her.

  Livvy was amazed. “Are you sure?”

  Suzy moved back to her own locker. It was covered with super cool green-and-yellow gum wrappers. Even the mirror was trimmed with the colorful wrappers. “I saw her do it,” said Suzy.

  “And I helped her,” explained Suzy’s tall and blond locker partner, Diane Larson. Diane had come rushing down the hall, like she was late. But then, Diane was always out of breath, going somewhere.

  “I can’t believe Jenna didn’t tell you . . . or ask you first,” Suzy said, eyes blinking fast.

  “She must’ve wanted a change of scenery,” Livvy said, still baffled. “Did she say why?”

  Tall Diane spoke up. “Jenna said she was tired of the hot pink carpet. ‘It’s too bright for a locker,’ she said.”

  Suzy was nodding. “Yeah, she wants something more athletic looking, I think she said.”

  Just then Jenna came down the hall. She was carrying rolled-up contact paper. “You’re gonna love this, Livvy!”

  Suzy and Diane waited to see what was up. “We told your locker partner you’d decided to remodel,” Diane said.

  “And that’s the truth,” Jenna said; then her eyes went wide. “Oh no, I forgot to tell you about it, Liv!”

  “Well, thanks a lot,” Livvy taunted, stepping aside. She watched her friend unroll the colorful paper.

  “Wow, bright stuff,” said Suzy.

  “But very cool,” said Diane.

  Jenna stepped back to show off the five interlocking Olympic rings. They represented the union of five original major continents: Africa, America, Australia, Asia, and Europe. And, of course, the meeting of the athletes who participate in Olympic sports. “So . . . what do you think, Liv?”

  “It’s super. Where on earth did you get it?” She really did love it.

  “My dad found it for me on the Web. I want to order even more to line my closet shelves at home.” Jenna pulled out a scissors from her backpack.

  “Here, let me help you.” Livvy held the paper while Jen cut the pieces to fit two shelves. Top and bottom.

  “What do you think of decorating the inside of the locker door, too?” Jen asked.

  Diane laughed from the next locker. “Just don’t cover the mirror.”

  “Too true,” agreed Jenna.

  “What should we do about the pink rickrack on the mirror?” Livvy asked. “It’ll be messy if we pull it off.”

  “We’ll leave it as is,” Jen said. “Okay with you?”

  Livvy grinned at her best friend. “It’s about time you ask my opinion on something. This is my locker, too, in case you forgot.”

  Jenna’s smile faded. “You’re ticked off, aren’t you?”

  Livvy hadn’t meant to sound so harsh. “No, I love the Olympic theme. Really.”

  “Okay, if you’re cool with this.”

  “Super cool,” Livvy said. And she meant it.

  When they finished, both girls took turns admiring their locker makeover. “I hardly recognize it,” Livvy said.

  Jenna nodded. “But it’s perfect, isn’t it? I mean, aren’t we both headed for the Olympics . . . someday in the not-too-distant future?”

  Livvy was silent. It was easy for Jenna to talk casually of her athletic future. But if Livvy didn’t get her life back, and soon, she wasn’t sure where she was headed!

  * * *

  Room 123—Livvy’s homeroom—was in a mild upheaval when she arrived. At first glance, there appeared to be a sub. A little gray-haired lady sat with her hands folded atop the teacher’s desk. A steady flow of chatter continued as Livvy hurried to her seat.

  Opening her book bag, she searched for her homework assignments. English, math, history. Finding everything in its place, she leaned back in her chair. That’s when she nearly fell off. She stared ahead at the teacher’s desk.

  I don’t believe this! What on earth is she doing here? Livvy wondered.

  The boy in front of her made a wisecrack. “Where’re they getting the subs these days?”

  “Nursing homes are overcrowded,” another boy mouthed off.

  Livvy slu
mped down in her seat. She had to be dreaming. Had to be! Pinching herself, she knew she was wide awake. But given the choice, she would’ve picked having a nightmare over this. Any day.

  It was Grandma Hudson who sat behind the homeroom teacher’s desk. Tiny, pale eyes seemed to squint as Grandma scanned the room. Then, spying Livvy, the older woman’s eyes caught hers and held. Grandma’s lips were moving, as if to say, “Oh, there you are, Olivia Kay.”

  While Livvy stared, totally bewildered, Grandma stood up. She pushed the teacher’s chair in and moved slowly down the row of desks. “Olivia, dear,” she said, standing in the aisle. “You went off without your lunch money.” Then she placed several dollar bills on Livvy’s desk.

  The class burst into riotous laughter. Livvy, mortified, bore a hole in her own lap. She thought she might faint on the spot. Sadly for her, she didn’t. She remained fully conscious, aware of the pounding of her heart.

  Then, without warning, Grandma Hudson left. Just like that, she exited. Without a good-bye or an “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  Young Mrs. Smith, their homeroom teacher, entered the room just then. The two women nearly collided as Grandma scurried out the door. The teacher glanced over her shoulder, probably wondering who in the world that was.

  Livvy, humiliated beyond belief, knew she would never live this down. Snatching up the money Grandma brought for hot lunch, she shoved the dollar bills deep into her book bag. It was too crazy—Grandma bursting into Livvy’s homeroom class, treating her like a two-year-old. Things had gone way too far this time.

  Trying to ignore the questioning stares around her, Livvy remained slouched at her desk. No matter what, she had to have a talk with Dad. About his mother.

  There was no way out!

  Follow the Dream

  Chapter Eight

  Livvy fidgeted with her hair until her knocking brought Dad to the art-studio doorway. Livvy had dashed up the attic steps immediately after school. She couldn’t suffer another day. It was time to spill out her woes.