Ivy and Bean Doomed to Dance

charge. This is something we’ve discussed a thousand times.” Bean’s mother folded her arms and glared at Bean.

    Bean could tell she was supposed to say something. “I’m sorry,” she said.
    “I should think so!” said her mother. She glared some more. “Well! We’ll talk about the consequences this evening when Daddy comes home. In the meantime, both of you go upstairs and try on your ballet costumes. And I don’t want to hear any complaining!”
    Bean and Ivy walked quietly upstairs. Quietly they closed the door to Bean’s room. “Whew,” said Ivy. “That was a close one.”
    “It’s not over yet,” said Bean. “Your mom still has to get mad.”
    “I know,” said Ivy. “But at least none of them found out about the running-away part.”
    “We’ve got to get rid of the evidence,” said Bean, busily pulling the bag of salt, the Band-Aids, the string, and the underwear out of her backpack. She stuffed it all under her bed.
    Ivy did the same.
    “Jeez!” Bean slumped against her bed. “What a day.”
    Ivy lay down on the floor. “I’m pooped.”

    “Are you trying on those costumes?” shouted Bean’s mother from downstairs.
    “Sheesh,” said Bean, getting up. “Work, work, work. That’s all I do.” The white leotards lay across her bed, stuffed tights legs tangled around them. “Come on,” said Bean. “You have to try yours on, too.”
    Ivy sighed and got up. Together they untangled the tights legs and got undressed and pulled on the white leotards. Bean looked at Ivy in her white leotard with ten white legs dangling from her waist.

    Ivy looked at Bean. “I don’t think Madame Joy has ever seen a real squid,” she said.
    Bean thought about the long, blubbery white legs. It made her head prickle. “Remember its legs?”
    Ivy nodded. “And its eye? Remember how it looked at us?”
    “Like it was excited. Like it could hardly wait to squeeze the life out of us,” said Bean.
    “Like we were food,” agreed Ivy.
    “Squids are not friendly,” Bean announced.
    Ivy lifted up one of her white tights legs and shook it. “A real squid would wrap its legs around Dulcie and squish her.”

    Bean giggled. “And then it would eat the starfish and the sea horses.” She bonked Ivy with one of her tights legs. “And the prince.”
    Ivy bonked her back. “And then it would look at the audience with its humongo eye and say, ‘And you people are my dessert.’”
    There was a pause.
    “You know,” Bean said thoughtfully, “we could use your face paint to make big black eyes.”

    There was another pause. Ivy and Bean looked at each other.
    “Madame Joy will kill us,” said Ivy.
    “We won’t do anything,” said Bean. “We’ll just look more like real squids. She won’t mind.”
    “In a way, she should be glad,” said Ivy. “We’ll be teaching everyone what squids are really like.”

    “Yeah, it’s educational,” said Bean. For the first time, she felt a little bit excited about being a squid. “And maybe, at the very end, after the rest of the dance is over, we can be two squid trying to squeeze the life out of each other.”
    “Yeah!” said Ivy cheerfully. “Like this!” She jumped at Bean and wrapped three of her tentacles around Bean’s arm.

    Bean hit Ivy over the head with a tights leg and growled. The two unfriendly squids bashed and squeezed each other until they had to lie down on the floor.
    “You know what?” said Bean after a minute.
    “What?” said Ivy.
    “By the time we get through with it, ‘Wedding Beneath the Sea’ is going to be a lot like Giselle . Only more exciting.”
    Ivy smiled. “Plus more scientific.”
    “I just knew we’d end up liking ballet!” said Bean happily.

IVY + BEAN
    BOOK 7

SNEAK PREVIEW OF THE NEXT IVY & BEAN ADVENTURE
    There had been a problem in Bean’s house. The problem was staples. Bean loved staples. She loved them so much that she had stapled things that weren’t supposed to be stapled. The things looked better stapled, but her mother didn’t think so, and now Bean was outside.
    She was going to be outside for a long time.
    She looked at her back yard. Same old yard, same old trampoline, same old dinky plastic playhouse, same old pile of buckets and ropes and stilts. None of them was any fun. Maybe she could play junkyard crash. Junkyard crash was when you stacked up all the stuff you could find and then drove the toy car into the stack. But it was no fun alone. Bean got up and scuffed across the