Friends till the End

by Laura Dower

  “It all sounds like fun, Mom,” Madison said as they climbed into a yellow taxi and rode over to Fifth Avenue.

  They passed the New York Public Library, with its majestic lions perched out in front, and then moved downtown, past camera shops, restaurants, and loads of other taxicabs. Madison was stuck in the middle of the backseat between Gramma and Mom, on the hump, but she still had a good view out the window of the pedestrians. Some were tourists, with cameras dangling from their necks. Others held cell phones to their ears or adjusted their hands-free headsets. Everyone had somewhere to go and someone to talk to, even though most of the people were alone.

  The taxi zoomed around a little green park at a part of the city called Union Square, where there was a vast dog park, people lying in the grass, and brightly colored paintings set out on display by various artists.

  Just a few moments later, Mom said to the driver, “Stop over there,” and they exited the cab. Madison clutched Gramma’s hand as they walked across West Broadway toward Mercer Street. Mom turned into a brownstone building with a gargoyle staring down at them from over the enormous front door.

  “What do you think?” Mom cried proudly. “Very cool place, right.”

  “Oh, Frannie, dear,” Gramma said. “Everything you do impresses me.”

  “Mother,” Mom said. “You’re too much.”

  They entered a nondescript marble lobby that led to a large freight elevator. Several flights up, the elevator doors opened on to a sherbet-colored space filled with bright windows, plants, and geometric-patterned carpets. As they strolled inside, everyone said good morning to Mom, as though she were very important. Usually, Madison didn’t get to see that “executive” side of Mom; and she liked it—a lot. It made her feel just as important.

  Rounding a corner, Mom showed Madison and Gramma into her new office. A brass plaque on the lemon-colored door read: FRANCINE FINN, VICE PRESIDENT, PRODUCTION. From floor to ceiling, the room was stacked with papers and boxes of videocassettes and film. It looked a lot like Mom’s office at home—only bigger.

  On the bulletin board behind Mom’s desk was a giant photograph of Madison and Phin taken at the beach the summer before. That caught Madison’s attention.

  “Wait. You have me hanging on your wall in my bathing suit?” Madison cried. “How mortifying.”

  “Oh, no,” Mom smiled. “Look at how beautiful you two look…”

  “I look fat,” Madison complained.

  “Maddie!” Mom said. “Don’t ever let me hear you say that. You look beautiful. You are beautiful.”

  “I agree one hundred percent,” Gramma Helen said, squeezing Madison around the shoulders. “You shouldn’t be so self-conscious, dear. Stop reading all those magazines.”

  “What magazines?” Madison asked.

  “The ones with the skin-and-bones girls on the covers,” Gramma Helen said, wagging her finger in Madison’s face.

  While they were standing there, Mom’s assistant, Trey, came into the office. He carried a clipboard and a stopwatch and barely stopped to say hello on his way in or, later, out.

  “Isn’t this a lovely view?” Gramma Helen said, leaning toward the giant picture window behind Mom’s messy desk. “I didn’t think we were up very high, but you can see a lot from here.”

  Madison stared at the water towers, terraces, and building facades visible from Mom’s office.

  “Pure New York,” Mom said. “I just love this new space. I’m so glad you helped me make up my mind to stay at Budge, Maddie.”

  “Hold on, Mom, I didn’t do anything,” Madison said.

  “That’s not what she told me!” Gramma Helen chirped.

  Madison shrugged. “Well, I just want to see you more, Mom…and so does Phinnie, so I guess it made sense…to stay here. Besides, there’s the trip to Japan to consider…”

  “Indeed,” Mom added.

  Everyone chuckled. A few moments later, they left mom’s office and headed back to the elevator.

  When they reached street level again, Madison took in as many of the sights and sounds of the area as she could: the smell of tar and garbage; the echo of bumper-to-bumper traffic on the side streets; the large canvases hanging in the windows of galleries, the small grocery stores, sometimes called bodegas, tucked in between the banks and the shoe stores. They had walked only a few blocks east when Madison happened to glance up at a large sign on a warehouse-type building located just across the street. It said, BROOME CONDOMINIUMS, INQUIRE INSIDE.

  Madison racked her brain for a moment, trying to recall where she’d heard that name before.

  “Mom, what streets are we near?” Madison asked.

  Mom pointed up to the green street signs on the corner. They were standing at the intersection of Lafayette and Broome streets.

  Madison’s jaw dropped.

  Now she remembered why the name sounded familiar.

  This was Will’s neighborhood. He’d talked about it at Camp Sunshine. He’d mentioned the street names and the art galleries and this condominium complex where he and his parents lived. He was a city boy, and this was his part of the city.

  Holy cow.

  Madison did a 180-degree turn where she was standing. Was Will somewhere nearby? Would she see him crossing the street here—or stepping into a delicatessen—or hailing a cab? Mom worked near Will’s house! It seemed too coincidental to be believed, but it was true.

  “Are you okay, honey bear?” Mom asked, gently taking Madison by the shoulder.

  “Mom?” Madison looked up with wide eyes. “This is where Will lives.”

  “Who’s Will?” Gramma Helen asked.

  “Long story,” Madison explained. “I told you about him once, when I was at that camp in Florida. Do you remember?”

  Gramma laughed and shook her head. “Goodness’ sakes, no! I can’t keep track of all the boys in your life, dear.”

  “All the boys?” Madison said. “There aren’t that many. What are you talking about?”

  Gramma and Mom both chuckled at that, but Madison did not look amused. Part of her reaction came from the fact that Madison knew she had an acute case of boys on the brain lately.

  As they walked on together, strolling in and out of a few dress shops that Mom knew about, Madison went into more detail about Will and camp and the e-mails and phone call. Gramma seemed keenly interested.

  “Sounds like that boy likes you, dear,” Gramma insisted. “A long-distance crush, eh?”

  Madison kept shrugging it off. “No, not really,” she said, even though deep inside she was thinking that very same thing.

  They stopped in front of a clothing boutique called The Pink Elephant. Madison liked the name, but there weren’t any dresses inside that were appropriate for the moving-up ceremony. Besides, everything seemed to be priced at $300 and up. As they strolled around, Madison kept her eyes open for signs of Will. She half-expected him to pop up from a brownstone stoop or jump out of a second-floor apartment window and yell, “Surprise! I knew it was you!”

  Of course, that was all a zany daydream. What if Will didn’t even live downtown anymore? It had been a while since camp…

  At that moment, Madison spotted a blond head across the street, standing by a street vendor. Her heart stopped, or at least it felt as though it had.

  Could it be…?

  She couldn’t make out the face, but her gut told her that maybe this really was him—the real him—the one she’d been thinking about ever since he had sent that e-mail. It had to be Will!

  Madison started to breathe really hard.

  “Maddie!” Mom said. “You sound like you’re about to hyperventilate.”

  “Huh?”

  The blond head was bobbing up and down. He was laughing. He was talking to another boy with black hair. They were buying hot dogs.

  “Madison, dear,” Gramma Helen said. “Your mother thinks we should keep looking for a dress for a while longer…”

  “I can’t think about a dress!” Madison cried.


  Where had he gone? There! At the corner. Why didn’t he turn around?

  “Maddie, what are you looking at?” Mom asked, glancing across the street at the same spot as Madison.

  At that precise moment, the blond boy turned around to face them.

  “Oh, no!” Madison let out a sad gasp.

  “What is it?” Gramma Helen asked. Now the three of them stood on the curb, staring across the busy street at the hot-dog vendor.

  Madison hung her head sadly as the boys walked away.

  “What was that all about?” Mom asked.

  “Nothing,” Madison said. “Thought I saw someone I knew. That’s pretty dumb, right?”

  “Oh,” Gramma said. “I always do that. Just the other day I thought I saw Grampa Joe in a crowd.”

  “You did?” Madison asked. Her grandfather had been dead for many years.

  “Ah, yes,” Gramma went on. “I think that’s because I feel close to him. I feel like he’s still right next to me, no matter what truly separates us. I see Joe in a lot of places.”

  “Really?” Madison asked.

  “We should shake our tails, girls,” Mom said, interrupting. “Let’s finish this conversation at lunch.”

  Madison and Gramma each took the other’s arm and walked closely together. Mom linked arms on Madison’s opposite side. The three of them walked down the sidewalk as if they were attached at the hips. The family resemblance was obvious: hair, eyes, and high cheekbones. It would have been a picture-perfect photo, if anyone had had a camera.

  As they walked on, Madison turned back once to see if she could catch a glimpse of the blond boy, or any other boy that looked like Will. It was impossible to let go of the hope that she might see him.

  On the fringes of Chinatown, Mom led Madison and Gramma Helen into another small boutique. By now, Madison’s feet—and spirits—were tiring out. She was convinced that her ultimate dress was nowhere to be found—at least not in this neighborhood. But then, there it was! Madison smiled when she saw the purple sundress hanging by the front door: linen with lace and embroidered flowers around the hem. Little pearl buttons went up the back, and there was a grosgrain ribbon waist. Best of all, it fit Madison perfectly.

  “I never would have picked out a purple dress,” Madison said as she stared back at her reflection in the store mirror. “But I love, love, love this.”

  “Me, too,” said Gramma.

  “Yeah, it’s just grape…I mean, great,” Mom joked.

  “That’s almost as lame as the jokes Dad tells,” Madison said.

  Mom held up the dress. “We’ll take it!” she told the store clerk, a young girl with blue streaks in her hair who reminded Madison of Mariah.

  What with the fun visit to Mom’s office, the taxi rides, and the purple dress, the trip into New York was classifiable as nothing short of a success. Despite the false Will-sighting, Madison was happier than happy about the way the day turned out. Later that night, after a long, rush-hour train ride home, she wrote about all of their exploits in her files. Luckily for Madison, Gramma Helen was sleeping in the den on this trip, not in Madison’s bedroom, where she normally camped out on her visits. That meant Madison could stretch across her bed and go online.

  After being away in the city for an entire day, Madison half-expected to find a huge windfall of e-communication waiting for her. How weird not to have spoken with any of her BFFs or other classmates that day! Surprisingly, however, no one had sent any mail, not even Bigwheels or Aimee, not even Ivy, writing to touch base about tomorrow’s science presentation. There wasn’t even any spam. And there were no text messages on her cell phone, either.

  Trying hard not to feel super discouraged, Madison sent out a text of her own. Just as she was composing it, her phone beeped.

  A message! At last!

  Madison opened it.

  Is ur e-mail down? missed u @ school SO how’s ur science thing? Chet & I r working 2nite text me asap H

  Madison grinned at the letter H.

  Hart was thinking of her? He missed her?

  Somehow, that short little message gave Madison a very big boost. She typed a quick hello back so Hart knew she was thinking about him and then sat down on her bed with a bunch of Mom’s old magazines, a pair of scissors, and some glue. It was time she began work on her Blue Sky collage.

  There were only a few days of school left, but Madison Francesca Finn was newly determined to make the most of them.

  Chapter 15

  WEDNESDAY WAS P-DAY.

  Somehow the night before, even after the long day in the city, Madison had found the time to rip out some pictures of blue, cloudless skies from mom’s old magazines and make a collage from the scraps, pasting words like spectrum and refraction and scattered light in different areas. In one corner was a rainbow; in another was a bright sun with rays. Mr. Danehy would be impressed. At least, Madison hoped so.

  Overnight, she’d developed a game plan, which wasn’t exactly revenge, but close. Madison had figured that she would try to present as much information as possible and then leave Ivy to answer the questions from Mr. Danehy. From experience, Madison knew that that was how he liked to work things. He liked any chance to quiz students on what they’d learned. Ivy would fall flat on her face during that part, for sure! She would be the one looking dumb, not Madison.

  When science class came, Madison put her plan into action. Poster in hand, she explained how light was scattered by oxygen when it hit the atmosphere, and how blue light was absorbed the most readily.

  “It’s not that the sky is painted or colored blue, exactly,” Madison explained, pointing to parts of her diagram. “It’s just that that’s how our eyes see it. We see the blue light more than other colors.”

  “Very good, Ms. Finn,” Mr. Danehy said.

  Ivy kept trying to get a word in edgewise, but Madison talked right over her. When it came time to do one of the simple experiments, Madison stepped right in and worked with all of the items herself. She explained the theory of thin-film interference.

  “This shows how a coating of nail polish in water takes white light that shines on it and turns it into different colors, like a rainbow. It’s a lot like the white light that is absorbed in the sky. Depending on how the light is absorbed in the air, we see different shades of blue or whatever color. Depending on how thick or thin the nail polish is, we see different shades of color, too…”

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Ivy chimed in, beginning to look worried.

  “Wow,” Mr. Danehy said. “That was a good experiment for this scientific proof. I am impressed with the both of you—How hard you’ve worked!”

  The both of us?

  Ivy’s momentary look of worry turned back into one of gloating. She was again getting all the credit for work she had not done.

  To make matters worse, Mr. Danehy skipped over the Q & A portion. He said that all of his questions had already been answered. Madison was half tempted to expose Ivy right there, once and for all, but for some reason, she held back. When Mr. Danehy asked for the pair’s detailed journal of observations and notes, Madison passed him the purple notebook with a polite smile and said, “Here’s our journal. Can I get that back after you’ve reviewed it?”

  Mr. Danehy nodded. “Thank you, Ms. Finn,” he said, by his gestures encouraging the other students in class to applaud the presentation. Then Ivy had the steely nerve to take a bow in the middle of everything.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Madison saw Hart looking her way, which was a very good thing. That alone kept her from bursting into tears on the spot. After all, Hart knew the truth.

  At least someone in the room did.

  After the day’s classes, Madison headed to the second and final rehearsal with everyone from the musical revue. She had missed the rehearsal the day before, because she’d gone to New York City. As she walked into the auditorium, she felt weird and goose-pimply all over, like a stranger to the place, not one bit the way she had felt when she had
been stage manager of the seventh-grade play. For that, she had a very important role, even if it was behind the scenes. This time, she was just a minor player in a huge production.

  She probably wouldn’t have felt quite so weird if the one and only revue performance hadn’t been scheduled for that very night. But it was. And the performers and backstage helpers and others were buzzing like a beehive.

  The longer she stood there, the more Madison’s nerves felt as if they were about to snap. Where was she supposed to stand? She liked to be in charge, or at least to be in the know, but right now she had no idea where anything belonged. Who was singing or dancing? Where were all the decorative props? Did it even matter that she was there?

  Madison looked to Hart for guidance, but he was off in the wings with some other boys, moving sets and signs.

  Fiona had said she wasn’t coming to rehearsal until late, so Aimee, Lindsay, and Madhur tried their best to calm Madison down and clue her in on what had happened at the rehearsal the day before, but that only frustrated Madison more. It seemed as if she had set herself up these last weeks of school to do all these fun things, and now she was lagging behind everyone else at the revue. And it wasn’t just the revue. She was behind in Science, too, now that Ivy had turned into the über-genius, despite doing absolutely no work.

  Gack.

  There was so little time left before Moving Up Day—before seventh grade came to its screeching halt. Could she ever catch up? Madison looked around at the other kids. Did they really know what was going on, or were they just faking it—the way Ivy usually did?

  “Hey, Finnster,” Hart said, appearing by her side.

  It was the right guy at the right time. Without even thinking, Madison wrapped her arm around Hart’s waist. She’d been flip-flopping all week long, but now she just wanted to hold on tight.

  “Hey,” Madison said.

  “So, you got my messages?” Hart asked. “I was kinda worried. And when I saw you in science class today, you seemed a million miles away.”

  “It’s just Ivy. She’s the worst partner ever.”