by Laura Dower
“Look. Drew isn’t exactly the King of Organization, so chances are that he wouldn’t plan to send you secret messages. And Egg probably isn’t helping him. Come to think of it, the whole idea that those two would be working together on some kind of romantic project seems kind of—” She searched for the word.
“Hilarious,” Madison finished for her.
“Exactly.” Aimee nodded, and the two girls went on to the next suspect.
TOP SECRET
Daniel Ginsburg
Alias: Dan, Pork-0
Score on Romance-O-Meter: 3 or 4
Facts: Likes animals. LOVES food. Very, VERY funny. More like a brother to Madison than romantic.
Profile summary: 5% chance he is our crusher
“Why did you put five percent?” Madison asked Aimee.
“Well, Dan is a nice guy and all that, but I don’t think it’s him. I mean, he cares way more about french fries and chocolate-chip cookies than girls, right?” Aimee said. “What do you think?”
“He’s nice,” Madison said.
“Yeah, but he’s not the dating type,” Aimee said. “You know?”
Madison nodded and they moved along to the next suspect.
TOP SECRET
Chet Waters
Alias: None
Score on Romance-O-Meter: 0
Facts: He lives only a block away and could find out tons of info about Madison from Fiona. HOWEVER, Chet is way too goofy to think of sending secret admirer stuff to Madison. Besides, he’d never be able to keep it a secret from Fiona, and Fiona would never be able to keep it a secret from US! !
Profile summary: unlikely suspect
Aimee gave a funny little snort, and Madison looked over at her. “What?” she asked.
“I’m sorry,” Aimee said with a giggle. “I was just picturing you and Chet on a double date with Fiona and Egg.”
“Chet and Egg would start a food fight the minute Fiona and I went to the ladies’ room,” Madison said.
“That’s just what I was thinking!” Aimee said, and she and Madison cracked up. “Okay, okay, we have to calm down, this is serious,” Aimee said, leaning toward the computer.
Madison was about to start laughing again when she leaned over and saw what Aimee was typing. She pursed her lips and held her breath instead.
TOP SECRET
Hart Jones
Alias: None
Score on Romance-O-Meter: 8
Facts: Used to like Madison in second grade. Calls Madison by special name (even though it is dumb): The Finnster. Is good friends with Chet, and could find out information about Madison from both Fiona and/or Egg. Was in Madison’s neighborhood at time of most recent card delivery.
Profile summary: Prime suspect
“Do you really think he’s the prime suspect?” Madison asked when she saw what Aimee had written.
Aimee bit her lip. “Well … he seems like the most likely person so far,” she admitted. “But I’m not a hundred percent sure. I think he likes Ivy Daly a lot. He’s always spending time with her and the drones, right?”
Madison peered at the screen, glancing at what they had written so far. “It could be any of these guys, or none of them,” she said. “You didn’t put that cute ninth grader on the list.”
Aimee laughed. “Get real, Maddie. You’re my best friend, but do you really think that he is going to ask you to the dance? He doesn’t even know you.”
Madison punched Aimee’s shoulder lightly. “It could happen!”
Aimee smiled. “I should be getting home,” she said. “It’s late. I have to study.”
“I guess we’ll solve this mystery another time,” Madison agreed, pushing herself to her feet. Her legs were stiff after sitting so long. “I’ll walk with you. Phin needs to go out anyway.”
Aimee said good-bye to Mom, who was reading a novel in the living room. “Be back in a few minutes,” Madison told her, grabbing Phin’s leash.
Phin kept sticking his nose way up in the air, sniffing like crazy. Madison wondered if he was trying to catch Peaches’s scent.
“Hey,” Aimee said as she walked up the steps to her house. “Should I get Blossom?”
Phin let out a big yawn.
“Nah, we’ll see you tomorrow, Aim,” Madison said.
“Okay,” Aimee said. “Just don’t forget about our Prime Suspect. I’ve got my eye on him now for sure.”
Madison hurried away as Aimee said that. Luckily it was dark outside, so her friend couldn’t see her turn four shades of pink. But one thing was true: if Aimee thought that Hart was the crusher, then it was DEFINITELY possible that he was the crusher. It was the law of averages, or something like that.
Madison smiled dreamily as she wandered down the street with Phin, imagining herself at the dance, wearing her new blue dress, holding Hart’s arm, gloating in front of Ivy Daly and her obnoxious drones …
Suddenly, Madison felt a tug on her leash. She turned and saw Phin was limping in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Come on, Phinnie,” Madison urged. “It’s cold out here and we need to get home.” She tugged gently on the leash, but Phin didn’t budge. He let out a yelp and lifted up his back paw.
“What’s wrong? Is something wrong with your leg?” Madison asked, kneeling to look at Phin’s paw. He was holding it off the ground.
“Oh, Phin,” Madison said, her voice edged with worry. “What happened? Did you step on something?” Phin whimpered as she scooped him gingerly into her arms. “Don’t worry,” Madison whispered.
She jogged toward the house, careful not to jostle Phin too much. She wasn’t really sure whether she was talking to Phin, or to herself.
“Mom!” Madison called out. “Come here! Phin’s hurt!”
Mom ran into the front hall. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“His paw,” Madison said, lifting his rear leg.
Phin was crying more now.
“We’d better get him to the clinic right away,” Mom said, inspecting Phin’s paw. “This looks really sore.”
“But what is it?” Madison asked. She wrapped him in a soft blanket, grabbed her orange bag and followed Mom out the door. If I hadn’t been so caught up in my daydreams about Hart, Madison thought, feeling guiltier than guilty, this never would have happened.
“Emergency!” Madison yelled as they walked through the doors of the Far Hills Animal Clinic. She had Phin cradled in her arms.
“What?” Eileen Ginsburg, Dan’s mother and the nurse at the clinic, asked.
“I was walking Phinnie and …” Madison said breathlessly, “there’s something wrong with his foot.”
Phin let out a low whimper.
“Don’t worry, pooch,” Eileen said. “Everything will be F-I-N-E, fine.”
Madison tried to smile at Eileen, who was wearing a T-shirt that read ONE COOL CAT with a photo of a tiger on the front. Dan’s mom proudly wore something from her T-shirt collection to work every day. But it was hard to smile when Phinnie was in pain.
Eileen hurried to the rear of the clinic just as Mom walked in the door. She had been parking the car.
“Eileen is getting Dr. Wing,” Madison explained. Mom nodded, and looked at Phin with a worried frown.
“Madison?” Eileen poked her head through the door that led to the back. “Come back to exam room two. Dr. Wing is ready for you.”
“Hi, Dr. Wing,” Madison said as she entered the room. She gently put Phin on the table. Madison knew Dr. Wing pretty well for two reasons. He was married to Madison’s favorite computer teacher, Mrs. Wing. He also had been the one to suggest that Madison volunteer at the clinic.
“This is my mom,” Madison said.
Mom extended her hand. “Frannie Finn,” she said. “Sorry to meet under these circumstances. I’ve heard so much about this place.”
“And how’s our patient?” Dr. Wing asked as he looked at Phin. “Phineas, do you have a paw problem?”
“You remember his name?” Madison
said, impressed.
“Ah, I see what we have here,” Dr. Wing said as he examined Phin’s paw. “It looks as though a few small stones have gotten wedged between his nails and the pads of his feet. It’s infected.”
“He stepped on something?” Madison asked.
“Yes, a few days ago, most likely,” Dr. Wing said, pulling a pair of tweezers and some other instruments out of a drawer. Madison breathed a sigh of relief that her daydreaming hadn’t been the cause of Phin’s injury.
He instructed Madison and Mom to hold the dog’s head as still as possible. Eileen controlled Phin’s torso and legs.
“Now, Phineas, this is only going to hurt for a second.” Phin yelped loudly as Dr. Wing pulled each pebble out of his paw. Then Phin tried to chew at his foot.
“No, no, no,” Dr. Wing said.
Eileen gently moved Phin’s head back away from the paw, as the doctor quickly smeared some ointment on Phin’s foot and wrapped it with a bandage. Of course, Phin sniffed at that, too.
“Rooooowwwwwroooo!” he wailed.
“Come back in ten days, and we’ll take this off,” Dr. Wing said. “Just try to keep this area as clean as possible. Eileen will give you more bandages. Change the bandage each day or whenever he bites off the one he’s wearing. He will chew at it.”
“Oh, thank you, Dr. Wing,” Madison said as she scooped Phin up into her arms. She was careful not to squash the wounded paw.
Dr. Wing grinned. “No problem, Madison. All in a day’s work.”
Mom shook Dr. Wing’s hand, then they went out front to pay.
Dan was waiting there. “Is everything okay?” he asked, casting a worried look toward Phin.
Madison nodded. “Dr. Wing says he’ll be better in no time,” she said.
“Whew! That’s good news,” Dan said with a smile. “Isn’t Dr. Wing the best?”
Madison agreed. “I am so glad there’s nothing seriously wrong. I was worried.”
Dan patted Phin on the head. Phin licked Dan’s hand.
“Gee, he likes you,” Madison said. “He doesn’t usually give out kisses like that.”
“Oh, yeah?” Dan asked, bouncing on his toes. Madison thought that he seemed a little nervous with his mom sitting so close by.
“Hey, is that llama still here?” Madison asked.
“Discharged yesterday,” Dan said. “Too bad you missed her.”
“Hey, Dan, can I ask you something?” Madison asked.
“Sure thing,” Dan joked. “What do you want—my autograph?”
“Very funny,” Madison said, chuckling. “No. I wanted to know if you are going to the Heart to Heart dance. Are you?”
Dan shrugged again. “Yeah, I think I’m going,” he said. “Why … are you asking me or something?”
Madison smiled. “Um … not exactly,” she said.
“Um … I was just kidding,” Dan said.
“But I am going to the dance,” Madison said. “Even with no date.”
Standing there, Madison was reminded of Hart, or at least of the fact that Dan was a good friend of Hart. Maybe Dan had a clue about Madison’s secret admirer. Maybe he could help uncover the truth?
“Do you know anyone else who’s going?” she asked, hoping for more clues. “Or someone who wants to go with someone, but is maybe too shy or …” Madison cut herself off. “I shouldn’t be asking you this. Sorry.”
“I haven’t really asked around,” Dan said. “I can if you want.”
“No, that’s okay,” Madison nodded, trying to hide her disappointment. “I didn’t mean to say all that. I feel pretty stupid.”
Madison tried to act cool, but she was afraid she’d just revealed too much to Dan. What if he went back to Hart and said something?
Mom came up behind her and tapped Madison on the shoulder. “We should get going.”
“Don’t forget your bag, Madison,” Eileen said, holding up Madison’s orange book bag. She’d left it inside the examination room.
“Thanks,” Madison told Eileen as she took the bag. “See you at school, Dan?” Madison added.
“Yeah,” Dan said with a smile. “See you around.”
Dan stood at the large glass window to wave good-bye. Madison carried Phin outside and climbed into the car with the dog in her lap. She waved back.
“That boy seems nice,” Mom said as she started the engine.
“Yeah, he is,” Madison said as she stroked Phin’s fur.
Phin nuzzled deeper into Madison’s lap. Her dog was still the number-one boy in her life.
Chapter 8
THE SIGN ON MR. GIBBONS’S CLASSROOM door read OUTLINES DUE TODAY. Madison couldn’t believe it was already the week the paper was due. She and Fiona had barely coordinated their ideas.
Madison had tried to call Fiona the night before to run the John and Abigail Adams idea past her, but Chet had been hogging the phone—as usual. So she typed up what she had and shared it with Fiona before class. She had to hurry and she had to keep her fingers crossed that the idea would work out.
Just as the first class bell rang, Madison remembered that she’d left her English notebook in her locker, so she hustled back to get it. Her books were wedged in there so tightly that she had to give the notebook a yank before it moved. And when it finally did pop free, that sent half of her books tumbling to the floor in a paper avalanche.
As Madison leaned over to pick up her dropped social studies textbook, a piece of paper flew out of it. She flipped it over, and saw that FOR MADISON was printed neatly on one side.
But how had it gotten inside her social studies book?
I am not a poet
And I truly know it,
’But I think you’re really cool,
So I thought I’d show it
(I hope this goofy rhyme of mine
Doesn’t totally blow it!)
signed, Your Secret Admirer
Madison laughed out loud. She folded the note carefully and stuck it into her English notebook so she could show it to Fiona and Aimee later. Unfortunately, this piece of evidence didn’t really help. For one thing, it was a poem and none of the boys they knew wrote poems. But on the other hand, all of the boys they knew were pretty funny. Maybe one of them did write this.
Madison’s heart was betting on Hart.
Sometimes I carry my social studies book with me to science class, Madison thought. So Hart could have snuck the note inside it then. And who knows how long that note has even been there?
Madison smiled to herself, picturing how Hart thought up the little rhyme and put the poem into her book.
“Hey, Finnster!” Hart’s voice seemed loud and clear.
He was standing right there beside Madison, as if she’d willed him there.
Is he going to say something about the note? Is he going to admit that he’s my secret admirer? Before she could realize what she was doing, Madison turned on her heel and ran in the opposite direction.
“Finnster, wait up!” Hart called, but Madison wouldn’t wait. Her feet wouldn’t let her.
And as if things weren’t already bad enough, Madison turned a corner and smacked straight into Ivy. Madison’s books and pink flyers flew everywhere.
“Ow,” Ivy said, rubbing her shoulder. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”
“Sorry,” Madison said quickly as she bent toward her books.
Ivy got up and walked away without saying anything.
Madison shrugged, and reached for her English book, but she saw that a hand was already holding it out to her. She caught her breath as she looked up and saw—
“Drew!” Madison said, head spinning with relief. “Oh, it’s just you.”
“Just me?” Drew joked.
Madison laughed as she took the book from him and stood up. “No—sorry. I meant—it’s you! Great!”
Drew smiled. “That’s more like it,” he said. Then cleared his throat and asked, “You’re headed to English, right? Mind if I walk with you?”
<
br /> “Okay,” Madison said.
Drew smiled and his whole face lit up. “Cool,” he said.
They fell into step toward Mr. Gibbons’s class, but Drew didn’t say anything for a little while, which made Madison a little uncomfortable. Usually, Drew was a talkative guy. In no time, they were standing in front of Mr. Gibbons’s classroom.
“Well, here’s where I get off,” Madison said.
“Wait a sec—” Drew said, his voice getting quiet. “Maddie, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“Ask me?” Madison said slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Is everything all right?”
“Oh—yeah,” Drew said. He took Madison’s elbow and gently pulled her to the side, so that other kids could get into the room. He looked at her a moment, and for the first time, Madison noticed that there were flecks of gold in his brown hair. Even though Drew wore it in a spiky hairdo, which made it look different, Madison realized that Drew’s hair was actually just like Hart’s.
Drew looked at the floor, and traced a crack in the stone with the toe of his shoe. “You know, Fiona and Egg are going to the dance together.”
“I know. Isn’t it weird?” Madison said.
“Yeah, well,” Drew went on, looking back at his shoes, “I was thinking that it could be fun if we went together, too. Like, as a double date.”
He paused, then looked up at her expectantly.
Madison felt so dumb. She remembered what Aimee had said the day before about him liking her.
How could she not have seen this coming?
“Gee,” Madison said, taking a long time to respond. She was confused. Drew wanted her to be his date? Drew was asking her to the dance? Did this mean Drew was Orange Crush?
“I don’t think I can go,” Madison said. “No, I definitely can’t.”
“No?” Drew said.
Madison stood there a moment, unable to believe that she had just turned him down—just like that.
Drew blinked a few times, like someone had just punched him in the stomach. He jammed his fists into his pockets. “So,” he said, nodding. “You’re not going to the dance?”