by Laura Dower
I hope ur feeling good 2. U SHOULD! ! ! We are 8th graders now & how totally cool is that??? I’m in a TOTAL school daze. We’re that much closer 2 high school. I know we’re not supposed 2 rush it, but I can’t help but feel a teeny bit more mature now. Doncha think?
Yours till the graduation caps,
Vicki aka Bigwheels
p.s.: We finally named our pony Tony. The name was my little brother’s idea. A girl pony named Tony?!! Oh well. She’s still a beautiful animal. I love horses because they always make me think of riding off into the sunset. Bye!!!
Madison hit SAVE and then REPLY. Bigwheels had the best timing. What could Madison write back that would be just as special to read and enjoy before graduation?
From: MadFinn
To: Bigwheels
Subject: Re: Hey, hey we’re moving UP
Date: Thurs 22 Jun 7:28 AM
I’m sitting here with my laptop, about 2 get in2 this VERY COOL AND AMAZING purple dress that I bought esp. 4 2day. And BTW: I have NO probs with yr bragging. Y shouldn’t u brag? Ur a fox, right? (Cue the growl sound, pis.) LOL
I’m glad yr end-of-school dance went well. U and Reggie sound A+ 4 each other. My boy sitch is same as ever, maybe a smidge better than the same. I think that turtle camp guy will stay a friend but Hart will stay in my heart. That sounds like one of yr poems, right? I’ve decided that Hart and I are destined 4 each other. We’ve been thru all those other grades and now 7th grade and we’ll prob. graduate fm high school and college together. At least I’m thinking that. Y not?
N e way, I’ll E you again after the whole big MUD—if I don’t get too messy. LOL (for like the 10th time in this e-mail). I’m a little silly. Nerves about 2day. BLAAHHHH!
E ya l8r?
Yours till the school daze (b/c I’m in one 2),
Maddie
p.s.: I don’t think Tony the Pony is THAT bad a name. We call one of Poison Ivy’s drones Phony Joanie; and it’s a good rhyme, right? So how many animals r in yr family now? Phinnie would do a dog flip out if we got another critter. He likes being an only dog as much as I like being an only child (even tho I say I don’t like it sometimes).
After hitting SEND and before logging off, Madison surfed around TweenBlurt.com a little bit. Then, she noticed an unfinished note in her drafts folder. What was this? When she checked, she found the barely there e-mail that she’d started for Will the week before.
“I thought I deleted this like a hundred times,” Madison groaned to herself. But maybe this was a sign. She had to deal with it—and with Will.
Madison opened the old e-mail and rewrote the date.
From: MadFinn
To: WillPOWR
Subject: Re: Remember me?
Date: Thurs 22 Jun 7:32 AM
Sorry I didn’t write backkkkkkkkkkkkkk
Madison’s finger stuck on the K key. She paused and stared at the screen. What exactly should she say to this boy? She kept typing, trusting that the right words would just come.
Sorry I didn’t write back sooner. I was caught in a major storm in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle
Yeah, that was believable. Bermuda Triangle. Good one. She started again.
Sorry I didn’t write back sooner. I didn’t know what to say when I got ur e-mail. It made me happy. Actually, I was in the city the other day w/my mom and gramma and I kept looking around, wondering if I would c u on the street. LOL. N e way, I am so glad ur out there and YES I would like to stay in touch. Right now I’m getting ready for our moving-up ceremony 2 8th grade. Can we E each other over the summer?
WBS.
Madison read it over. And then she read it once more. It was simple enough. It made sense. It wasn’t too hot or cold; it was juuuuust right, just like Baby Bear’s porridge in Goldilocks and the Three Bears. So, after all the waiting and wondering, Madison had finally made up her mind. Unlike some of the songs in the musical revue, this message was pitch-perfect.
Madison stared as the screen put up the message showing that her message had been successfully sent. It was as easy—and as fast—as that. Now all she had to do was wait for Will’s next move (and message). That would probably mean another round of wondering and waiting, but that was okay. She had other important things on her mind—like Hart.
“Maddie!”
Mom called up from downstairs. Madison could hear the tension in her voice.
“Maddie, are you up there? I need your help!”
Madison had always said her middle name was Help. The same had been true at the beginning, middle, and, now, the end of seventh grade. For all the things that changed a lot, there were still some things that remained status quo.
“What is it, Mom?” Madison yelled back. Her voice echoed in the hall.
“I said I need you! Come down, now!”
Madison snapped the top of her laptop closed and shuffled out to the steps in her slippers. “What is it?” she called from the top of the stairs.
Mom stood below, yellow rubber gloves on her hands, a bucket of soapy water at her feet, and holding a red-striped rag.
“Maddie, you are trying my patience, do you know that?”
Madison bit her lip. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “What is it?”
“I just need you to help me set out some things on the dining-room table,” Mom said in a softer voice. “I’m sorry, too, I don’t mean to yell. I just—”
Madison was at the bottom of the steps by then. She reached out for Mom’s arm. “I know, Mom, you’re stressed. It’s the party. It’s the family. I know.”
Mom looked as if she were about to cry, but she didn’t. She sat down in an upholstered chair, peeled off her gloves, and just sighed. “This is your special day,” she said, wiping her brow.
“Let’s just put the stuff out and get through it,” Madison said. “It’s really no biggie, Mom.”
They went into the dining room and set out the plates, decorations, silverware, and serving dishes. It only took a few, easy minutes. Gramma and Phin helped, too, by continuing to steer clear. They stayed in the kitchen the whole time.
“You’d better go get ready now,” Mom said. “Today we need to be on time.”
Madison nodded, leaned close to give Mom a kiss, and headed back upstairs. This time, Phin barked and followed behind her, leaving Gramma and Mom to work out the details of the next cleaning task.
The purple MUD dress still fit perfectly. Madison slipped right into it without any problem, although she quickly sniffed her armpits, just to make sure she wasn’t stinky from all the nervousness. Then she slid on a pair of black flats and a chunky armful of bracelets, a secret tribute to the style of her favorite teacher, Mrs. Wing.
“You look fantabulous,” Gramma Helen said from the bedroom doorway. Madison nearly jumped out of her skin; she hadn’t known anyone was watching.
“Is ‘fantabulous’ a real word?” Madison asked. It didn’t sound like a Gramma Helen kind of word at all.
Gramma just shrugged and chuckled. “Oh, go ask a dictionary. I’m just your grandmother.”
They both laughed. Sometimes Gramma was so serious, but other times she liked to be goofy. Those times always cracked Madison up.
Channeling her inner hairdresser, Gramma helped Madison to pull her brown hair into a thick, black barrette. Then Madison put on her favorite moonstone earrings, the lucky ones Dad had given to her a year before. They matched the dress and hairdo perfectly. Her outfit was complete.
Madison looked at her reflection in the mirror. The morning sunlight was coming into her room at just the right angle, and it reflected back off the glass, making a kind of white halo around Madison’s head, except at the beveled edges of the mirror, where the bent light reflected a full spectrum of color. It was as if Madison were the science project right now, caught in refracted light, at the epicenter of a rainbow.
“You do look beautiful this morning,” Gramma said, complimenting her again. “I’m so glad I could be here to share this special
day with you.”
“Thanks,” Madison turned around and grinned.
“I better go call Aim and Fiona now. I think I’m finally ready to jump in the MUD.”
Gramma Helen flashed her dentures and let out a belly laugh. “Oh, Madison! You truly are my one and only,” she said.
Chapter 17
AS MOM PULLED INTO the school building parking lot with Madison, Aimee, Fiona, and Chet clustered in the back of the Finn van, the air felt electric.
The day they’d all been waiting for had arrived.
The FHJH school building stood larger than life with its wide double doors at the front entrance. Today, it wasn’t overrun with screaming kids and teachers, buses pulling in and out, or car doors slamming open and shut. There was no front-of-building security guard standing watch over the crowds. Kids wandered in as if they were heading into a movie theater or something, talking in much chattier tones than usual and greeting each other with high fives and handshakes. It was like a foreign place in some ways, and the mood was definitely set for celebrating. Madison was happy to be there, decked out in her purple dress and lucky moonstones.
“Yo!” Egg cried from across the hallway when the girls and Chet walked inside the school.
Fiona rushed over. Madison and Aimee followed. Unlike the relatively calm mood outside, the atmosphere inside was busy. There was a large table set up in the lobby. On it sat a yellow paper program for the moving-up ceremonies. The FHJH logo, a racehorse, was emblazoned across the front, along with the school motto: TOGETHER WE BUILD SUCCESS.
“I can’t believe it’s really here,” Madison told her friends. “The end.”
“The beginning,” Fiona corrected her.
Aimee seemed distracted. “Have you guys seen Ben anywhere?”
Aimee’s crush had been chosen to speak on behalf of the class, and she seemed nervous.
“Bathroom,” Madhur said.
Everyone laughed.
“Don’t forget, Ivy’s giving a speech, too,” Aimee reminded Madison.
“What?” Madison cried. “Since when?”
“Since always,” Chet spoke up. “She’s the class president after all.”
“Yeah, Maddie,” Egg added. “Where have you been?”
Madison punched Egg in the arm.
“Hey,” Egg cried. “Just because you hate her doesn’t mean you have to take it out on me!”
Fiona, Aimee, and the others chuckled.
“I really do hate her,” Madison declared bitterly. She usually didn’t say things that sounded quite so harsh, but Ivy had made her madder than mad. She’d wreaked havoc on Madison’s final weeks of school. Now Madison had to listen to Ivy give some self-important class president speech? There was nothing worse.
Bit by bit, the school got more crowded. Kids headed to their homerooms to congregate, but Madison and her friends decided to stay together in the hall, searching for signs of intelligent life—namely, Madhur and Lindsay. Madison spotted Madhur first, wearing a dress made from yellow and red Indian scarves. She looked like some kind of Punjabi princess. Lindsay looked good, too, although she had on a purple dress just like Madison’s.
“Did you guys coordinate your outfits, or what?” Madhur asked.
Madison and Lindsay both laughed. “Yeah,” they joked at the same time, locking arms at the elbow. “We’re practically like twins, remember?”
Lindsay smiled. “You’re all sort of like sisters to me,” she said.
“So-o-o sappy!” Aimee cried, but she smiled at the same time.
“Like you don’t say sappy stuff,” Madhur said, nudging her.
Madison reached into her orange bag and pulled out one of the special items she’d brought just for that day: a digital camera. Dad had lent her his.
“Smile!” Madison said, raising the camera and aiming it at her pals. True to form, the four of them huddled together with arms entwined.
“Why don’t you let me take your picture with them?” someone from behind Madison said. She whirled around to see Hart standing there.
“Hey, you,” Madison said, grabbing him by the arm. She handed him the camera. “Thanks.”
“You look um…pretty today,” Hart whispered in Madison’s ear as he took the camera. Madison glanced around to see if anyone else had heard the compliment, but everyone was having their own conversations, and no one was paying Madison and Hart any mind.
“Well, thanks again,” Madison whispered back.
Just then, the loudspeaker boomed. Principal Bernard was announcing the countdown to the big ceremony.
“Attention, Far Hills students and families. Welcome to our school today for a tremendous celebration of another successful year. We’ll be starting the ceremonies in approximately fifteen minutes. Faculty, please lead students into the main auditorium. Guests should also turn in your tickets and take your seats. Please turn off your cell phones.”
Everything about the walk back down the hall and into the auditorium made Madison’s head spin. Hart stayed closer than close to her side the whole time, which made her feel secure for some reason. Seeing Hart today confirmed that she’d made the right choice between him and Will.
Aimee let out a low holler and waved madly across the room. She saw her mom, her dad, and two of her four brothers coming inside, and she wanted them to know where she was sitting. Lindsay, Madhur, and Fiona saw their families and flagged them down.
Madison didn’t have any such luck. She knew Mom and Gramma Helen and Dad and Stephanie had to be out there somewhere, but she didn’t hear Mom’s familiar “Honey bear?” or Dad’s bellowed “My Maddie!” It would have been so like Dad to do something embarrassing (like scream Madison’s name and get everyone in the room to stop and stare). He was good for lousy jokes and behavior like that sometimes. Still, he wasn’t there yet; that much was clear.
Down in the orchestra pit, the Far Hills String Ensemble joined in with members of the school band to play the Allegro from Handel’s Concerti Grossi. Some notes sounded a little sharp, like nails on a chalkboard, but overall, the music was good. Madison wondered why she’d slacked off so much that year on her flute-playing. She could have been a band member, too. Maybe next year?
Quicker than Madison ever expected, Principal Bernard started the moving-up ceremony by having everyone in the crowd sing the school song. Of course, he was louder than most folks, since he sang into a microphone, and unfortunately, his pitch was way off. Madison and a bunch of other kids sank down into the auditorium seats and tried to tune out rather than sing along. They’d only sung it maybe twice during the entire year. So some of the words were missing. She’d have to learn the entire thing the following year, in eighth grade.
After the last chorus, Assistant Principal Goode scurried up to the microphone with a long sheet of paper in her hand.
“Good morning,” she announced in a chipper tone. “We have some special speakers to start our program. After that, we will move to the awards and recognition part of the ceremony. Our teachers will present deserving students with certificates and awards for their academic and extracurricular endeavors.”
Madison shot a look at Fiona. They’d only recently been gabbing about how much Fiona deserved the team award for soccer. Madison hoped that her friend would get it—and everything else she deserved.
The first special speaker up to the podium was none other than Ben Buckley. Aimee leaned back in a swoon, as usual, upon seeing him come onstage. Lindsay and Madhur made a jokey comment about Ben’s starched shirt, baggy pants, and haircut (or lack thereof). But Aimee didn’t seem to mind his appearance. She hung on Ben’s every word.
“Good morning.” Ben started his speech in a low, rumbly voice. “When the teachers asked me to…er…talk to everyone today, I didn’t know how to start. I’m not even sure if you all know me…”
A brief titter passed through the audience. Madison turned around and saw that it was a group of eighth graders—the cool clique, no doubt—making the ruckus. But they
didn’t do it for long.
Ben cleared his throat but continued, undeterred.
“Anyway, my favorite teacher, Mr. Gibbons, says that everywhere in life we face challenges, even in seventh grade. And they are important, no matter what anyone says. They are important because they matter to us. Principal Bernard says on the loudspeaker every Friday that we have to find the steady path and stay focused in school. We have to figure things out. I was thinking about this poem by Robert Frost. He says,‘I took the road less traveled by, and that has made all the difference…’”
Ben paused, and some kid called out, “What road was that? Ridge or Poplar?”
The room erupted in a roar of laughter. Even a few parents chuckled, but order was restored quickly.
“Why did someone make fun of him in the middle of his speech?” Aimee whispered, indignant. “It’s because Ben sounds a little intense, right? I mean, for a seventh grader.”
“Yeah! It’s not like he’s the president giving a State of the Union speech or something,” Madhur said.
“Oh,” Aimee sighed. “Poor Ben.”
“No!” Madison said, defending him. “Ben sounds really, really smart. Don’t let those pranksters mess with your head. He sounds good. Look. Principal Bernard is all ears.”
Aimee smiled. Madison hoped that despite Ben’s total geekiness, Aimee knew that no one thought she was crazy for liking him. Aimee’s “like” for Ben was even more admirable than anything she might have felt for some slick soccer dude.
Moments later, Ben finished his speech, but not before tossing in a few more important lines—that quoted everyone from Adam Levine to former president Bill Clinton. At the end, the auditorium burst into loud applause. Thankfully, the few bad apples who had mocked Ben early in the speech didn’t make a fuss now.
Principal Bernard gave another of his short little speeches, and then a dazzling Mrs. Wing approached the podium. She wore one of her favorite scarves that had little sequins and mirrors sewn into it, so when she stepped under the spotlight, she literally shone. First, Mrs. Wing showed a short, candid slide show of kids from all over the school, and then she reminded everyone in the room about their memory pages. Madison was bummed when the teacher didn’t mention her “team,” but time was tight, so she didn’t. And no sooner had Mrs. Wing rushed away than the next speaker took the stage.
