by Laura Dower
Chet gave her a thumbs-up from across the classroom. Madison couldn’t help but smile back at him. He was an advocate of anyone who got into trouble. And that was her right now…TROUBLE.
A while later, when class ended, Hart walked out with everyone else. Madison didn’t have a chance to ask him about the note. Meanwhile Ivy had already stood up and approached Mr. Danehy’s desk, ready to make her own plea bargain. Madison got up, grabbed her bag, too, and sat down in a chair at the front of the room.
“So, Miss Finn and Miss Daly. Which one of you would like to start with an explanation?”
Ivy raised her hand. “Ooh! Me.”
Madison rolled her eyes.
“So this is how it happened, Mr. Danehy,” Ivy explained, a smile on her face the entire time. “I was just sitting there listening to you tell us all about the science fair—which, by the way, I really want to participate in—when all of a sudden Madison Finn wrote this note and tried to pass it over to Hart Jones. It was totally not me. It was totally all her.”
“And Mr. Jones, apparently. Shouldn’t we get him in here, too, then?” Mr. Danehy asked the girls.
“No!” Ivy blurted. “Like I was saying, it was all Madison, and he had absolutely nothing to do with what happened.”
“I see,” Mr. Danehy said. He made a “hmmm” noise and then turned the floor over to Madison.
“Well,” Madison tried to explain. “I was also listening to you talk about the science fair when suddenly Ivy started to accuse me of having been passed a note or passing a note. Something like that. And I didn’t have one. So I got flustered.”
“What do you have to say to this, Miss Daly?”
“I can show you where the note is, Mr. Danehy. It’s in her bag,” Ivy said, grabbing at Madison’s orange bag. “In that front pocket.”
Madison pulled the bag back into her body. “I don’t think so, Ivy,” she said.
But Ivy wouldn’t give up. Not only was she upset that Madison had scooped her troublemaking scheme, but she was way more upset because the boy she liked had passed a note to none other than Madison Francesca Finn.
Ivy lunged for Madison’s bag a second time, only now she grabbed onto the side zipper. With one swift movement, she reached into the front pocket and pulled out the note.
Or, at least what she thought was the note.
“YOUNG LADIES! ENOUGH!” Mr. Danehy yelled. “Ivy, you can’t just go probing into someone’s personal property like that. Give that to me!”
He took the note from Ivy and looked it over.
“This looks like it took an awfully long time to write,” Mr. Danehy said. “And what do you say to the fact that your name is on this note along with Madison Finn’s name?”
“What?” Ivy said.
He held the note out for her to look at. “I—I—don’t know…” Ivy stammered. “What is this?”
MADISON FINN & IVY DALY
Friends Forever and Ever and Ever
For OUR eyes ONLY!!!
Madison hung her head. After all of her hesitating and procrastinating, this was the way Ivy finally got to see the letter.
By mistake.
“What is this, Maddie?” Ivy asked.
Mr. Danehy picked up his briefcase and started to exit his classroom. “The second bell will be ringing shortly, young ladies. I suggest you get to where you need to be.”
Madison turned to Ivy. “I found it. During the snowstorm. In my attic.”
“Do you remember writing this?” Ivy asked.
“Sort of,” Madison admitted. “Do you?”
Ivy let out a deep sigh. “Whoa. This is weird. It’s like having a flashback. How long have you had it?” Ivy asked.
“A while. Since last week.”
“And you never showed it to me?” Ivy whined.
“It’s not like we talk a lot,” Madison replied.
“I can’t believe you would open this without me, when it says right here that we’re supposed to open it together,” Ivy said.
She grabbed the note, picked up her bag, and stormed out of the science room, leaving Madison all alone.
Chapter 14
The Letter
After Ivy discovered the letter in the pocket of my bag, she just took it and I raced after her and we ended up in the girls’ bathroom down by Mrs. Wing’s computer labs. I followed her into the bathroom because I had to talk to her. Even though she is the enemy, I felt bad. I don’t wanna feel bad like that.
Ivy said that it didn’t matter if we were friends or enemies, that a promise was a promise. And that I shouldn’t have opened this letter alone.
I NEVER, EVER would have thought that Poison Ivy would care.
After she left, I sneaked out and ducked into Mrs. Wing’s lab. She never checks for hall passes, which is a good thing.
Madison closed the file on the letter. “This all started with his note,” she said, digging into her bag’s front pocket.
Madison pulled out Hart’s note. She didn’t have to actually read the note because she already memorized it. But it was nice to hold it and read it again.
Finnster
What is ur e-mail?
Hart
This was a real note from Hart. She wanted to tell someone…
Bigwheels!
Madison went into TweenBlurt.com and pressed NEW MESSAGE.
From: MadFinn
To: Bigwheels
Subject: Need Your Help, Pleez
Date: Mon 22 Jan 4:18 PM
Remember how I said in my last e-mail that my week has been zanier than zany? Guess what? It got even CRAZIER. Okay, so Ivy has now seen the letter. You were right about showing it to her. It was weird b/c she even seemed sad that I read it before I showed it to her. Like even though we’re not friends anymore, I’m supposed to keep old promises. That’s so hard.
But there is another note now that is even more confusing! (Drumroll, please.) It’s from Hart. COULD YOU JUST DIE OR WHAT?????
Okay, so I don’t know if this note means he likes me or what. It says, “Finnster What is ur e-mail? Hart.”
What do you think?
Yours till the math tests,
MadFinn
As Madison hit SEND, she heard the phone ring downstairs. Mom yelled up, “Telephone!” and Madison logged off and went downstairs to answer it.
“Hey, Maddie!” Fiona gushed into the receiver. “Chet told me you and Ivy got into some massive trouble in science class today. Is it true?”
“Chet has a big mouth,” Madison said.
“Well, yeah.” Fiona giggled. “So tell me what happened.”
Madison wanted to tell. But she had to leave out the whole part about Hart’s note because neither Fiona nor Aimee knew about Madison’s undying crush on Hart. And she had to leave out the part about the Ivy and Madison note from second grade because they didn’t know about that, either. Maybe Madison would tell them later, but not now.
“Well, nothing really happened,” Madison said. “I thought I saw her passing notes. But I was wrong.”
“That’s it?” Fiona said. “But Chet said you guys were so upset. And someone saw Ivy crying in the hallway.”
“They did?” Madison asked.
“Well, I’m just glad that you didn’t get into trouble and that everything is okay now,” Fiona said.
“Where is Aimee tonight? I tried calling her,” Madison asked.
“Ballet. Where else?” Fiona said.
Aimee had missed several classes because of the snowstorms, so she was eager to get back to practicing. She’d signed up for private lessons twice a week for a month. That meant Madison and Fiona would be seeing less of their other best friend, at least for a while.
Fiona hung up so she could surf the Web and Madison went into the kitchen at home for a snack. Mom was emptying the dishwasher.
“Oh! Perfect!” Mom said. “I’ve got you! Let’s run up to the attic for just a moment. I want to show you something I found.”
&n
bsp; Madison grumbled. She didn’t feel like doing much of anything right now except eating peanut butter and crackers. She didn’t feel like rummaging through Mom’s work materials and organizing boxes. They’d been doing that for days!
But she still managed to follow Mom up the stairs.
Phinnie followed close behind, too.
“Take a look,” Mom said, grinning as she pushed open the attic door. “What do you think?”
Madison’s jaw dropped open. Mom had completely rearranged the attic. On one side there were still boxes and piles, but across the room, she’d covered an old sofa that was up there with a new blanket and added a reading lamp.
“So if we’re feeling nostalgic or we just want to have a look around,” Mom explained, “it won’t be such a big production. So, quit standing there. Tell me, what do you think?”
Madison smiled. “Amazing.”
“And I ordered some bookshelves so I can make a better filing system up here. And I was even thinking you might want to put your desk under this window at some point. Like a private room for studying. It’s up to you.”
Madison couldn’t stop smiling.
“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you that Dad is on his way home. He should be back in Far Hills tonight. In fact”—Mom reached her arm out to check the time—“he should be pulling into our driveway in an hour or so.”
Madison threw her arms around Mom and dashed back down the stairs. If Dad was coming, she wanted to dress up a little, or at least to get out of her school clothes. She put on some strawberry-kiwi lip gloss for the special occasion.
Dad took Madison out for Chinese food in downtown Far Hills, just the two of them. Stephanie had stayed behind in Denver to tend to more business. On the way home, Madison spilled the beans to Dad about everything that had happened with Hart’s note. He sounded encouraging, although dads tend to be more cautious about such matters of the heart, and Madison knew that.
When Dad dropped her off after nine o’clock, Madison was exhausted. But she still found time to sneak back online for one last e-mail check.
From: Bigwheels
To: MadFinn
Subject: Re: Need Your Help, Pleez
Date: Mon 22 Jan 7:54 PM
You won’t believe this, but it is SNOWING like mad here right now! We have a foot and a half in our yard, and all the weather reports now say that we’re getting another storm in Washington just like yours! I don’t ever remember seeing so much snow! Now I know what you were talking about last week. What was that silly joke your dad sent you? I wanted to tell my mom. Resend it if you can.
So I read your note about Hart’s note. That is so weird he did that. And I really think maybe he is just trying to spend more time with you because he likes you, but I don’t know for sure if he means anything romantic. I can’t really tell. You haven’t told me what YOU think. Did he say anything else? Sometimes I wish I knew what he looks like. He sounds so cute.
Write back sooner than soon?
Yours till the hockey pucks,
Bigwheels
p.s. I wanted to tell you something else about friends b/c you seem so sad about that old friend Ivy and I don’t like hearing you be sad. What if we made up a secret name for us? You always say everyone else is a BFF, but what if I’m your BIFF? Best Internet friend forever? Hope you like it! C U L8R!
As she logged off, Madison felt warm all over, and not just because she had on her woolly monkey slippers. Even though she had to let go of a friend from the past, she had a BIFF to enjoy the future with—through snow, rain, and whatever bad weather came her way.
Mad Chat Words:
(@@)
You’re kidding!
:>D
It’s grrrrrrreat!
:-~(
I’m going to cry
( : : ) ( : : )
Band-Aid (for boo-boos)
?4U
Question for you
911
Emergency
DLTM
Don’t lie to me
HHOK
Ha ha only kidding
VF
Very funny
VVF
Very very funny
BTDT
Been there, done that
SWDYT
So what do you think?
W-E
What-ever
BIFF
Best Internet friend forever
Madison’s Computer Tip
Sometimes it’s easy to forget that whatever you write online can be seen by anyone. Even when I’m chatting in a private room, someone from TweenBlurt.com could be monitoring what is said. Or another member could be eavesdropping. Don’t write online messages that contain too much private information. Sometimes when I send long e-mails to Bigwheels, I forget this rule. I write negative stuff about Ivy or her drones. I probably should be careful. What if Ivy were to read what I wrote?
Visit Madison at the author’s web site: www.lauradower.com
Turn the page to continue reading from Laura Dower’s From the Files of Madison Finn series
Chapter 1
FWWWWACKKKKKKKK!
Thunder boomed outside Madison Finn’s bedroom window.
“Rowrrrooooooo!” her dog, Phin, barked. He leaped onto the bed, knocking Madison’s laptop from its pillow perch.
“Phinnie,” Madison cooed, readjusting her computer. “Oh, poor Phinnie. You’re not afraid of the storm, are you?”
Shakier than shaky, Phin wormed his pug body near Madison’s belly to get warm. She had to maneuver her own body so she could type on her laptop and snuggle at the same time.
Madison went into her file folders, where she had been keeping a regular record of life in seventh grade. She thought that files were a great way to keep herself organized. Unfortunately, the opposite seemed to be true today. Her “perfect” system was getting messier and messier. The more things she did in school, after school, and on weekends … the more Madison jammed into files, the harder it was to locate anything on her desktop. What a disaster! She couldn’t keep her facts straight. Just the week before, Madison had forgotten about a Spanish quiz and a math assignment in the same week.
“Rain, rain, go away,” Madison chanted. She typed in yet another brand-new file name.
Old habits were hard to break.
Superblues
Here it is the end of March and I have the seventh-grade superblues. Doesn’t that sound like a song?
I can’t seem to get ANYTHING done, and I have this MEGA paper due for English honoring women’s history that I haven’t even started! I haven’t done my Spanish homework for a week, and Señora Diaz is going to be so mad. I didn’t know life was supposed to be stressed out in seventh grade. Is it just me or what?
Even Mom is superbusy these days with some new movie crew and assignment. Dad is busy, too. When we have one of our special dinners, he always has something else on his mind besides me. His girlfriend, Stephanie, says he’s working on some new Internet deal. Ever since Mom and Dad’s big D—divorce—last year, things have started getting busier and weirder for all of us.
Rude Awakening: If I figure out how to save time, can I store it for later? That would really help with all this stuff I have to do.
Madison closed her file and popped a brand-new CD-ROM into her laptop. She easily booted up the new software called Calendar Girl that Dad had given her.
With the click of a few keys, Madison found herself at the main menu screen. A Stardust trail chased Madison’s arrow cursor as it moved across the page. Type flashed blue and pink.
Dear Diary Planner
Go to the Head of the Class
Homework Keeper
Extracurricular Time
Calendar Girl to Do
Friends Contact List
Madison stared at the screen. She didn’t know where to mouse-click first.
Drip.
She wiped a wet droplet off
her hand. Was Phin drooling again?
Drip. Drip.
It wasn’t drool at all.
Looking up over her head, Madison saw another pair of kamikaze drips before they landed. They were coming from the ceiling. The terrible rainstorm had made its way inside Madison’s bedroom.
“MOM!” Madison screamed even louder than a thunderclap. Phin jumped and dove off the bed for the closet. “MOM!” she screamed again.
Quickly Madison pulled her laptop to a dry area for safety. She moved her pillows and the afghan, and grabbed her trash basket to put on top of the bed. She hoped that would catch the drips. They were beginning to fall more steadily now, like a leaky faucet.
“Madison?” Mom was breathless from running up the stairs. “You know I hate it when you yell for me like that. What on earth—”
“We have a leak!” Madison screeched, pointing to the wet ceiling. Phin peeked out of the closet.
“Oh, no!” Mom wailed. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” She dashed out of the room.
“MOM! Where are you going?” Madison yelled. “Mom, get back here. My whole room is going to be underwater if you don’t get back here!”
Mom returned a moment later with the phone and the yellow pages. She dialed up a contractor she’d called once before.
“Is this Dickson Fix-It?” Mom asked. “This is Francine Finn over on Blueberry Street. We seem to have this leak upstairs….”
Madison sat down near her desk and watched, helpless, as the drips kept dripping into her orange plastic wastepaper basket. Madison wanted to say, “Mom, why don’t you call Dad instead?” but that wouldn’t have been a proper suggestion. Not since the big D.
