Read Online The Education of Ivy Blake by Ellen Airgood - Free Book Online Page A

good as possible. And as old as possible. She’d be
in character
—in the character of an eighteen-year-old, say, who was in charge of her own life.
    When the dress’s last glittery rhinestone button was done up, Ivy pulled on a pair of black tights and laced up her granny boots and clumped down the hall.
    She studied herself in the bathroom mirror. She thought she looked older than usual, but if she used her mom’s eye makeup, she would look older yet.
    She did this, then added a swipe of lipstick and made kissy lips at herself. Next she put on a hat she’d found abandoned at a farmers’ market. It was made of navy-blue straw with a narrow brim and had a white satin ribbon around the band. She adjusted it, then nodded at herself and ran to the living room for her book bag.
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    Ms. Mackenzie stared when Ivy came through the door. “Wow,” she said. Ivy’s heart fell. Then she said, “You look lovely, Ivy, but you do have to take your hat off in class,” so Ivy did.
    Tate came in and thunked
Go Math!
on her desk. She looked Ivy up and down and whistled. “Holy cats. You look like a million bucks.”
    Ivy’s face flushed; she tugged on her braid. Then she remembered what she’d decided in her room. She lifted her nose and pooched her lips at Tate. She fluttered her eyelashes too, but they got stuck in the mascara, which maybe she’d put on too thick.
    Tate laughed. “So what’s the outfit for, anyway?”
    â€œNothing, really. Just to do it. Just to be—different.”
    â€œDifferent.” Tate tapped her bottom teeth with her thumbnail. “I like it.”
    Ivy felt a rush of affection for her. “Also, I thought, maybe—it’d be like making a character. Did you ever think about that? How you don’t always have to just be you? You can, sort of, make somebody up and be them.”
    Tate squinted at her worriedly.
    â€œLike in a movie, I mean,” Ivy clarified, and Tate’s eyes brightened.
    â€œI love movies,” Ivy confessed. She pulled some books out of her bag to hide how shy she felt. “I want to be a director someday.” She glanced back up at Tate and saw that her eyes had widened.
    â€œThat. Is. So. Cool.”
    Ivy blushed. “Thanks.”
    â€œIf you ever really do it, call me, okay? I would love to help make a movie.”
    Ivy couldn’t suppress the grin that took over her face.
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    That afternoon, when Ivy rounded the corner on her way home from school, the police cars were parked in the driveway again. Her steps slowed but she didn’t stop moving forward.
    The doors of the second police car opened as she approached, and Ivy made a face. They seemed to already have a routine, the three of them. Her mom had a routine too. She stood on the steps with her feet planted and her arms crossed, scowling.
    â€œWhat’s going on now?” Ivy asked the policeman in the driver’s seat.
    â€œThere’s been an allegation that your mom may have been involved in removing merchandise from the QuickMarket.”
    â€œBut she works at the QuickMarket.”
    The officer sighed, so softly Ivy almost couldn’t hear him.
    â€œWhat merchandise?” Ivy thought of the sack of flashlight batteries her mom had given her last week, and the popcorn. Also the half case of jam and the little pudding packets that had shown up in the kitchen one day.
    The officer eased a blank expression over his face. “I’m afraid I can’t say.”
    Really, Ivy didn’t need him to say. If it was proof they were looking for, they’d find some right by her bed. She hadn’t used any of the batteries at first when her mom handed them to her, she was still too angry about her notebook. But then, when her flashlight batteries died, she’d gone ahead and opened the packages. Despite everything, it had made her feel good that her