Power to the Purple!

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Power to the Purple! Page 6

by Sophie Bell


  “Don’t worry!” Iris whispered, a twinkle in her eyes. “Our ice-cream surprise party is going to cheer everyone up! By this time tomorrow, the cafeteria will be on a sugar high!”

  “Hope so,” Scarlet said with a smirk, nodding back toward Trendnerd territory. “Because that is just sad.”

  Albert sat at the far end of the table, gazing adoringly at Opaline. His mouth hung open above his laptop keyboard. “O-M-faux pas,” Cheri muttered. “If he drools, that would be very not cool.” After her makeover, the boy should have known better.

  “Sad,” Scarlet repeated. “And strange.”

  At the other end, next to Opal, K-Liz was eating cheese ravioli, the special of the day. Every now and then she’d bow her head and stab her forked tongue into the pasta squares. Cheer Britney stood beside her, kicking one leg and rustling her solitary pompom. Goth Bella ignored her rah-rah half, reciting phrases of dark poetry instead. Put together, it sounded a little something like this:

  “Quoth the raven, gggo team!”

  That is, it sounded utterly confusing.

  Iris frowned at the sheer weirdness of it all. Scarlet had to laugh.

  “A cheerleader shouting Edgar Allan Poe,” she said, shaking her head and swinging her feet under her chair. “Hilarious!” She swung so high her foot hit the table, lifting it off the floor. It came clunking down again. “Oops!” she blurted out, grabbing a napkin to mop up the juice she’d spilled before it could reach Iris’s tablet.

  “And you stress about me and my public rainbows,” Iris chided her.

  “Sorry,” Scarlet said with a sheepish grin. “Still getting a grip on the superstrength thing.”

  Cheri just looked from one girl to the other, masking her worry with another weak smile. Sensing her tension, Darth pawed up at her, then nuzzled his head into her hand.

  Keepz kalm an sparkel on, he told her.

  It was a solid motto. It made her feel a bit better.

  The bell rang. “Already?” Iris exclaimed, tucking her tablet into her messenger bag and chugging down her cup-o-soup.

  “Time flies when you’re not having fun, I guess,” Scarlet tossed in, looking again at all the glum students. She rushed to finish her lunch and gather up her books, too. But all three UVs stopped what they were doing when they noticed the peculiar procession passing them by.

  With BellaBritney semi-cheering in the middle and K-Liz bringing up the rear, Opaline marched out of the cafeteria. “O+2!” she commanded, swooping her arm in a circle with two sharp snaps of her fingers. As other students trailed behind, dragging their feet like they were headed toward final exams and not just another Monday afternoon, a sheet of paper slipped from someone’s open backpack. The swish of K-Liz’s tail sent it skimming across the linoleum floor.

  Iris bent down to pick it up. Scar and Cher gathered around. So you could say they all got the bad news at the same time.

  “By invitation only . . .” Cheri read the printout. “You’ll be SHOCKED, but it’s true . . .”

  “Opaline is turning the Big 1-2 . . .” Scarlet continued.

  “Be there if you know what’s good for you,” Iris finished.

  The date for the party was, of course, Opal’s birthday: the very same date of their surprise.

  The three girls exchanged glances. Then Scarlet snatched the paper out of Iris’s hand and scanned the top, reading down the names of everyone else in their class. “Nope!” She gave a rueful laugh. “We’re not there!”

  “Check out the PS,” Iris said, pointing to the bottom of the page. As if they needed further proof.

  PS. If ur name is Iris, Scarlet, or Cheri, go suck on a lollipop bcuz u r NOT invited!

  “Quelle rudeness!” Cheri gasped. To be a social outcast was upsetting enough, but to be blown off by a bestie? Okay, a former bestie, but one they were trying to make up with? One they’d been planning an ice-cream intervention for!

  “So much for our surprise party,” Iris said softly. “Guess the real surprise is on us.”

  Scarlet was so agitated, she spun three pirouettes right there in the middle of the empty cafeteria. “Yeah,” she stopped for a second to say, “and now we’re stuck with a whole gallon of Peach Melba!”

  The Outsiders

  IRIS HAD NOT FORGOTTEN WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO BE AN outsider. After all, she had moved away from SynchroniCity when she was only seven, leaving her three best friends and everything she’d ever known behind. Then she spent the next four years at astronaut offspring boarding school while her mom was lost in space. And when she finally returned, Iris had to cope with everyone at Chronic Prep freaking out over her wild violet hair.

  So Iris was used to being on the fringes. And tougher than you might think, considering she was usually all peace, love, and lollipops on the outside.

  Scarlet was tough stuff, too. That was no secret. If anything, she had softened up a bit since Iris had come back to Sync City, and she’d starting hanging out with Cheri again, and she’d become a superdancer. (Which was a secret.) Still, just a sideways glance from those steel-gray eyes and a boy twice her size would run screaming, clutching his waistband in panic. Such was Scarlet’s reputation for pantsing bullies.

  But Cheri . . . It was she who was taking the snub by Opaline the hardest—alas! (As she would say.) Cheri had always been naturally popular—so popular she never gave it a second thought. All the kids liked her, trendoids and geeks and jocks and goths and any clique in between. Because what wasn’t there to like? Fabulous, funny by accident, wouldn’t hurt a fly: Cheri got invited to every birthday party, and her social calendar was always jam-packed.

  Until now.

  The girls had already tried drowning their disappointment in gourmet ice cream: big dripping dollops of Sassafras Pistachio, Caramel Raisin Rose, Honey Blue-Blue, and, yes, Peach Melba, squished between chocolate-chunk cookies or crispy butter waffle wafers. After three sandwiches apiece, they were feeling a little better. And a little ill.

  They agreed to donate the remains of their ice-cream stockpile to Scarlet’s three older brothers. They left it where they’d stored it, in Scarlet’s basement freezer.

  Now the Ultra Violets were hanging out atop the grassy knoll in Chrysalis Park. Cheri’s dad had urged her to get some fresh air, saying it would “shake her out of her glumdrums.” Iris’s mom was working at the FLab, as usual. And Scarlet had SO much energy to burn, her parents didn’t mind one bit about the ice-cream binge. They were just glad their little spitfire daughter was playing in the park instead of sitting in detention.

  Scarlet hadn’t gotten detention in weeks!

  Her parents didn’t know that Scarlet had found a much more deserving target of her righteous anger: mutants. Schoolyard bullies were child’s play compared to the evil threat that was BeauTek. Of course, Scarlet still wouldn’t hesitate to put a bully in his or her place. It was just, between homework and being a superhero and practicing for her audition, she had a lot on her plate.

  It was a beautiful afternoon. Wherever Opal was, she must have taken the clouds with her. The sun shone bright in the pure blue sky. Iris lifted her face to it, soaking up its warmth. Then she flopped down onto the park bench and slung an arm around Cheri’s shoulders.

  “Try not to be too sad, Cher,” she said, giving her a squeeze. “No matter what happens with Opal, you’ve always got me and Scar. And Candace.”

  “And Darth,” Scarlet added. “He’s hopelessly devoted to you!” She jumped, bending one knee while extending the other leg straight out behind her in a jazz stag leap. Springing about in the grass like that, she really did look like a tiny, ponytailed deer. In a tutu.

  “I know,” Cheri said, combing her retro red fingernails through Darth’s silky fur. “It’s impossible to be friends with Opal when she’s acting all über–mean girl, anyway. But I do wonder . . .”

  Cheri trailed off
, gazing past Iris to the darker blue of the Joan River. Iris couldn’t help noticing that Cheri’s normally bright green eyes seemed a little darker, too.

  “What?” Scarlet prompted, poised in a straight-leg scorpion pose.

  Cheri blinked twice before continuing. “Well, is this what it’s always going to be like,” she said quietly, “being a superhero? Hiding who we really are, forever?”

  Iris and Scarlet were silent. They had both thought about it, as well. Keeping their secret—from the other kids at school, from their teachers and parents—that was hard, but they could do it. Cheri was talking about something else. About loneliness.

  “I wonder about that, too,” Iris replied at last, giving her a second squeeze. “I mean, my mom has always been oblivious, even before my purple hair. But how could I ever be a hundred percent honest with, you know, um”—her cheeks reddened as she said it—“Sebastian, or any other boy, if I always have to lie to him about being an Ultra Violet?”

  “Just don’t have boyfriends, I guess?” Scarlet said, switching to split-leg calypso leaps. Though that didn’t seem to be a satisfying answer. Not even to her.

  Iris sprung to her feet, suddenly restless. “We’ll figure it out,” she said, smacking her fist into her open palm, determined. “We have to! Okay, Operation Get-O completely derailed, but we’ve got to find out what’s up with this ‘shocking’ party of Opal’s.”

  “That we’re not invited to,” Cheri groused, because she still couldn’t quite believe it.

  “And there’s still the mutant situation,” Iris continued. She turned toward the river, and her pupils shrunk to pinpoints at the sight of the acid-yellow Mall of No Returns on the other side. “If mutants overrun Sync City, then nobody gets to have boyfriends. Not even ‘the oblivios.’”

  Cheri sighed. “Sometimes I miss being an oblivio,” she admitted. “Things were so much simpler then.”

  “Maybe,” said Scarlet. This depressing convo was making her restless, too. “But if I were still oblivious, I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

  With a great burst of energy, Scarlet flipped backward, rising twenty feet off the ground. Midair, upside-down, she vogued her arms around, then landed in a split on the grass.

  Iris grinned. Cheri could feel her radiant heat and see the pale violet light glowing from her hands, her hair, her eyes. “And I wouldn’t be able to do this!” Iris said. With a wave of her fingers, she drew out the branches of the single fluffula tree till they arched over the hilltop like a frilly fedora hat. For an extra-special touch, she changed the color of the leaves to peppermint swirl. Then did a swirl herself underneath the candy-striped canopy she’d painted on air. Rainbows beamed from her fingertips, filtering out through the leaves.

  “And I . . . ” Cheri announced with a little skip off the bench, unable to resist the minty freshness, “. . . couldn’t, um, calculate the square root of pi!”

  “Pie rules!” Scarlet shouted, jumping up with a fist pump, her hand shooting through a scrim of leaves that weren’t really there.

  U no couldz heer me too, Darth reminded Cheri with a nudge.

  “Or hear sweet little animals,” she said, hugging Darth close. “Even though I’d talk to them anyway.” She smiled for the first time that day.

  The sounds of flapping and crashing caught all three of them by surprise. Scarlet shot up from her split. Iris erased the pretend peppermint leaves. And Cheri kept the square root of pi to herself. With the fluffula tree pruned back down to actual size, the girls were stunned to see what had caused the commotion.

  “The Black Swans!” Scarlet gasped.

  Boys Come and Go

  HAPLESSLY HANGING BEFORE THEM ONCE MORE WERE the two spy boys in their black suits and shades. Big Red had snagged his jacket collar on a tree branch, while Lil’ Freckles was upside down, his ankles wrapped in the straps of his binoculars.

  “Binoculars?!” Scarlet shouted, stamping her foot. She hit the ground so hard, rivulets of dirt avalanched down the grassy knoll. “And is that a camera AGAIN?”

  She was so mad, it never occurred to her to be embarrassed. Even if Lil’ Freckles looked a lil’ adorable, all topsy-turvy and helpless, she refused to notice. She stomped right up to Big Red and wrestled the camera out of his sweaty hands.

  It crunched like a candy wrapper in her fist.

  “Oh, oopsie,” she muttered, forgetting her own strength as usual. “Didn’t mean to crush it,” she started to apologize. “Or did I?!” she yelled, remembering again that they were SPIES. She gave Big Red a push—jus’ a lil’ one—in his jelly belly, and he swung back and forth from the tree branch like the piñata they’d bought for their ice-cream party fail.

  “Hey!” he cried. “Stop it—that’s an order!”

  Scarlet gave him another shove—this one a lil’ less lil’. “Do I look like a waitress?” she snapped

  Iris and Cheri fanned out behind Scarlet. Iris had a mind to melt the sunglasses right off those boys, but she couldn’t risk revealing her powers. What had they already seen?

  “Who are you?” she demanded instead. “What do you want?”

  Though they were clearly sitting ducks—or sitting black swans—trapped as they were in the tree, neither boy broke the code of silence.

  “Give it up, Lil’ Freckles,” Scarlet snarled, her own freckles flaring on her cheeks. She folded her arms across her chest. “Or do you want to find out what an upside-down wedgie feels like?”

  Lil’ Freckles folded his arms upside down right back. “We’re well aware. Of your wedgie skills. Miss Jones,” he said through gritted teeth. “And your propensity for pantsing. It’s all. In your file.”

  “My file?!” Scarlet exclaimed with another ground-shaking foot stomp.

  “And do not. Call me. Lil’ Freckles,” he warned. His voice was so strained, the girls wondered if his lunch was backing upside down on him. “I am contractually due. For a major. Growth spurt!”

  “Then maybe we should call you Overdue Spurt instead!” Scarlet scoffed. The thing about the file was freaking her out, but she wasn’t about to show it. She twisted her fists together, preparing to deliver the kind of wedgie she was famous for. Apparently!

  “No!” Big Red cracked first. “Upside-down wedgies are in violation of the Universal Anti-Bullying Convention!”

  “That’ll never hold up in front of any student council!” Iris countered, jumping to Scarlet’s defense. “Not if you’re caught spying!”

  “Who said anything about spying?” Big Red jeered. As he spun in the breeze, his voice petered off in different directions like a wind chime. “We were just, uh . . . bird-watching. From up in this tree.”

  “Bird. Watching,” Lil’ Freckles repeated, all constipated-sounding and rat-a-tat terse. “It’s. A free. Park.”

  The Ultra Violets exchanged glances. Obviously the spies were lying—hello, the file? Scarlet was enraged. Iris was irate. And Cheri was smiling.

  Cher’s dad had always told her she could catch more flies with honey. She’d just never wanted to catch (ew) flies. But now that the tree had caught these spies, she figured, Close enough!

  She approached the dastardly dangling duo, Darth still in her arms. His purple-striped tail draped over the crook of her elbow. “Bird-watching, hmm?” she drawled, rocking the skunk like a baby. “That sounds like so much fun. Maybe the five of us should have a playdate,” she suggested sweetly, “if you ever get down from that tree.” Then her voice dropped as she delivered her sugarcoated demand. “Now unless you’d prefer a face full of skunk stink, tell us what you saw.”

  Stubbornly, Lil’ Freckles still held his ground. (That’s another expression. He was really still in the air. His arms were still folded, and behind his dark glasses, he was still staring at Scarlet.) But Big Red wavered, his eyes on Darth and his hands clapped over his nose. “Er,” he squawked, “we’re not sure
—”

  “Agent Bristow!” Lil’ Freckles barked.

  Big Red ignored his partner.

  “I know it sounds crazy,” he said, “but it looked like a crow in a red dress—”

  Scarlet scowled. “Quoth the raven, I don’t think so,” she muttered under her breath.

  “—followed by a spinning purple flamingo.”

  Iris kept a straight face. “That’s the most ridiculous thing we’ve ever heard!” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Then she blasted two laser-thin, laser-quick, undetectable ultraviolet beams at the lil’ one’s binocular lenses, warping them. Just in case the goggles had a built-in camera, too.

  “I know, right?” Big Red said. “And we couldn’t really see because it was like the sky was filled with peppermints all of a sudden! It’s how we lost our balance in the tree. All that swirling made us dizzy.”

  “A peppermint sky.” Scarlet traced her toe en dedans in the dirt. “Sounds like you’ve been hitting the cough syrup a little too hard there, Red,” she said, winking at Iris.

  “Agent Bristow!” Freckles bellowed again. (He had a loud voice for such a lil’ fellow.) “Keep. It. Together! You know the punishment for snitching!”

  “What, Baxter, what?!” To the Ultra Violets’ complete surprise, Big Red began to cry. Like a lil’ baby. Plump teardrops dribbled down from behind his dark glasses. The girls feared a snot stream would snot be far behind. “They shredded our camera, dude.” He let out a hiccupy sob. “We’ve got zero intel! We’re stuck in a friggin’ fluffula tree. The nice one’s packing a skunk. And that chick in the tutu scares me!”

  Scarlet had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smirking. First she was a crow, now she was a chick? These Black Swans were for the birds!

 

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