Mads looked at him, surprised. Did he know what she was up to, now that he saw Holly?
“I guess it's not exactly a date,” Mads said. “It's just coffee. But a date could be arranged, if you're interested.”
“I'd like that,” Stephen said.
Okay, so now it was out in the open. Stephen wanted her to fix him up with Holly. All she had to do was get Holly to agree—which might not be so easy. But maybe they'd hit it off this afternoon.
Holly and Lina were already on their second lattes. Stephen smiled shyly at them.
“Hey, guys,” Holly said. “All ready for the big art show?”
“You should see Mads’ portraits,” Stephen said. “They're so good.”
“I heard your installation is awesome, too,” Holly said. “Mads told us about it. What she saw of it.”
“She hasn't seen it all together yet,” Stephen said. “No one has. I want it to be a surprise, for ultimate impact.”
“How are the party plans coming, Mads?” Lina asked.
“Okay, I guess,” Mads said. “It shouldn't be a total disaster, as long as my parents don't ruin everything.”
“Can I invite Ramona?” Lina asked. “I mean, if you don't have too many people coming.”
Mads snorted. “Are you kidding? Too many people? That won't be a problem. But I thought you didn't like Ramona.”
Lina wasn't sure how to explain. “I do and I don't,” she said. “We have a weird relationship. But I know she'd like to come.”
“Invite her then,” Mads said.
“I need to ask a favor, too,” Holly said. “Can I bring Britta Fowler to your party?”
“Who's Britta Fowler?” Mads asked.
“She's a junior,” Holly said. “Her parents are friends with Curt and Jen. She's a really nice girl, but she studies all the time and she's never had a boyfriend. She's my next matchmaking challenge. I figure if I could match Autumn successfully, I can match anybody. And anyway, her parents asked me to help boost her social life a little.”
“Bring her,” Mads said. “I hope she doesn't mind sucky parties. Because my party is going to suck. Everybody else will be at Alex's.”
“It won't suck, Mads,” Holly said. “But Britta won't know the difference anyway.”
“Don't worry, Mads,” Stephen said. “All the really cool people will be there.” He looked from Mads to Lina to Holly. Mads thought his eyes lingered on Holly an extra second. Holly smiled at him. Jackpot!
As they were leaving, Stephen said to Mads, “You have nice friends.”
“Thanks,” Mads said. “They like you too.”
“I'm glad,” Stephen said.
Everything was fine on the Stephen side. If she could just get Holly to give him a chance.
I'll talk to her tomorrow, Mads said to herself. I'll ask her to go out with Stephen, and if she resists I'll talk her into it. Then everyone will he happy.
Except for Sean, when he sees his picture.
And me, after Sean sees his picture and hates me. And after my party bombs and my popularity level plummets to its lowest point ever.
Oh well. Being semi-coolish was nice while it lasted.
22
The Art Fair
To: mad4u
From: your daily horoscope
HERE IS TODAY'S HOROSCOPE: VIRGO: You're nervous today, but relax. Your worst fears-will not be realized. Maybe your second-worst, but not your worst.
Art students were excused from classes Friday morning to set up their displays in the Salon des Arts, otherwise known as the gym. Frank Welling allotted Mads three temporary pasteboard panels. She carefully pinned up her pastel portraits—M.C., the Overlord, Audrey, and Adam on the left wall, Holly, Lina, her boxer puppy Boris, and Captain Meow-Meow on the right wall; and in the center, pride of place, her masterpiece, the largest of her portraits and the only full-length one, The Swimmer.
“Maybe Sean won't notice it,” Mads said to Ramona, who had stopped by to say she would be happy to attend Mads’ post-fair party. Ramona had her own entry in the fair, just one drawing, a pen-and-ink called, Souvenirs of My Latest Trip to Hell. “He might not recognize himself. I didn't put his name on the picture.”
“Hate to break it to you, but there's no chance of that,” Ramona said. “Unless he doesn't come to the fair at all.”
“That's possible,” Mads said. “Sean's not a huge rah-rah school guy.”
“Everybody takes at least one stroll through the Art Fair,” Ramona said. “Somebody will tell him about it. Every art fair has one piece good for a laugh or a shock. This year, looks like you're it.”
Great. Mads wanted to be the talk of the fair, but not because she'd pissed off the most popular guy in school.
“It's really good, though,” Ramona added. “See you later.”
Mads peered around the maze of temporary display walls and spotted Stephen in a back corner, putting up his installation. The “walls” of the “bedroom” were covered with paper, to be unveiled only once the show opened. He waved to her and called, “Stay away! No peeking until showtime!”
“Okay, then same goes for you,” she said. “You can't see my stuff until show time either.”
“I've already seen all your stuff,” Stephen said. “You didn't chicken out, did you?”
Mads knew he was talking about the Sean portrait. “No,” Mads said. “It's up.”
He gave her a thumbs-up and went back to work. She watched him a few minutes longer. Something about him, his seriousness or industriousness, appealed to her. Was that a tiny crushy feeling tickling her inside? She immediately repressed it. Holly needed a distraction from Rob, she needed Stephen more. And anyway, Stephen liked Holly, not Mads. It wasn't meant to be.
At lunch time the fair officially opened and the students began to stream in. The judges, mostly art teachers from other schools, walked slowly through the maze, studying each piece carefully and making notes. Holly and Lina made a beeline for Mads’ display.
“Awesome!” Holly cried. “Sean looks like he's ready to dive right out of the picture.”
“Congratulations, Mads,” Lina said. “Your pictures are beautiful.”
“Have you seen Christie Hubbard's stuff yet?” Holly asked.
“No,” Mads said. “I haven't had a chance to walk around the rest of the Fair. Is it any good?”
“I haven't seen it, either,” Holly said. She bit her lip. Rob was still bothering her, Mads could tell.
“Holly, listen,” Mads said. “You need to stop thinking about Rob. I know someone who really likes you, and I think you'd like him, too.”
“Who?” Holly looked wary.
“Stephen,” Mads said. “I know he'd go out with you if you wanted to. He thinks you're the most beautiful girl in school. And he's very nice. And he never wears t-shirts with funny slogans on them. Should I fix you guys up?”
“He thinks I'm beautiful? How do you know?”
“He said so,” Mads told her. “When he saw your portrait, he told me he thought it was gorgeous.”
“It is gorgeous,” Lina said.
Holly thought it over for a minute. “He seems like a good guy,” she said. “But I don't want to go out with him, Mads. I'm still hung up on Rob.”
Mads was exasperated. “But what about Christie? Isn't she kind of, you know, in the way?”
“I'm about to take care of that,” Holly said. “I'm going to look at her paintings or drawings or play-doh sculpture or whatever right now. And no matter how bad it is, I'm going to praise it to the skies, right in front of Rob. Then he'll see how nice I can be. I am not picky and I'm not critical—and I'm going to make Rob see it if I have to get down on my knees and bow before his stupid moron of a girlfriend.”
“I hope he finds the new uncritical Holly more believable than I do,” Lina said. “If he knows you at all, I don't think he'll fall for it. Am I right, Mads?”
Mads didn't answer. She kept thinking about Stephen. She had practically promised him a date
with Holly, and now Holly wouldn't go. How was she going to break it to him?
Mads wanted to get away from her own display and look around, but she never had a chance. She was stuck in her spot all afternoon. People kept coming by, asking her questions about her pictures and telling her how good they were. The judges stopped and looked, smiled and nodded and scribbled things in their notebooks. Sean's picture was a big hit. Some of Sean's friends, Alex, Mo, and Barton, stopped at Mads’ booth, stared, and cracked up.
“Dude, check out Benedetto!” Barton said.
“Wait until he sees this,” Mo said. “Muscle man in his swimsuit. And the look on his face. That's his Superstud face.”
“Hey, kid,” Alex said. “Awesome job. You captured Sean perfectly—right down to his freaky toenail.”
It was true. In her typically obsessive way, Mads had noticed Sean's strange, bumpy big toenail. It was ridged and white. You could see it in the photo she took of him, so she carefully copied it onto her drawing.
“You're the Leonardo diCaprio of Rosewood,” Alex added.
Mads assumed he meant Leonardo da Vinci and took it as a compliment.
She was glad Sean's friends liked her portrait of him—but the way they were already teasing him about it worried her. He'll never forgive me, she thought. I've sacrificed the love of my life for artistic integrity. I'm such an idiot! It's so not worth it.
“Let's go see that bedroom thing,” Mo said. “Some kid supposedly recreated a whole guy's room. I heard it's really cool.”
Late in the afternoon, as the crowd reached critical mass, Sean finally arrived at the fair, alone. He nodded at Mads and said “Hey.” Nothing else. He stood in front of the temporary wall. He cast a cursory glance at the portraits of Mads’ family and friends. Then he gazed at his own image for a long time. Mads chewed her thumbnail. She knew he'd hate her forever. Maybe he'd never speak to her again. Maybe he'd yell at her. She just wished he'd get it over with.
Finally, he turned to her. She braced herself.
“You know,” he said, “I've got a great body.”
That knocked the wind out of her. It wasn't what she expected him to say.
“Uh, yeah, you do,” she said.
“Cool,” he said. “I like the way you drew the muscle tone in my legs.”
Her breath returned. The muscle tone in his legs? Was that a compliment for her—or for himself?
“So—you like it?” she asked.
“Hell yeah,” Sean said. “Who wouldn't? I mean, I don't like to brag, but I look totally hot in a bathing suit.”
“Yeah—exactly!” Mads said. “You do look hot in a bathing suit. Which is why I wanted to draw you that way. I'm so glad you like it!”
“’Course I like it, kid. You can draw me anytime.”
Frank Welling and the judges reappeared, ribbons in their hands. “That's the one,” one of the judges said. She pressed a blue ribbon next to the portrait of Sean. “Madison Markowitz, you get first prize for portraiture. Nice work.”
“Good job, Madison,” Frank said. “Especially for a sophomore.”
“See, kid, I told you it was good,” Sean said.
“Thank you!” Mads said. She won a blue ribbon! She'd hardly dared to hope for one. But she'd won. And it was all thanks to Sean.
“Hey, Sean,” Mads said. “You know, I'm having a party at my house tonight. To celebrate my prize-winning portrait of you. It's a party in your honor in a way, so you have to be there. You'll come, right?”
“How can I miss a party in honor of me?” Sean said. “Sure, I'll be there. And I'll make all my deadbeat friends come, too.”
“But what about Alex's party?” Mads couldn't stop herself from asking. She didn't want Sean to promise to come to her party and then not show up.
“No problem—we'll all go after your party. It's a late-night thing anyway,” Sean said. “You should come, too. Ditch your party after a couple of hours and come with me over to Alex's.”
“You're inviting me?”
“Sure, I'm inviting you. You're like my portrait-painter chick. Maybe you'll want to draw more pictures of me. You've got to have access to your subject.”
“Thanks!” Mads was thrilled. Sean invited her to Alex's party! And he was coming to hers! To her house! With her parents…oh no. She'd have to make sure her parents and Audrey didn't embarrass her. And Adam and Aunt Georgia and Uncle Skip. They always found a way. Maybe she could lock them all in a closet or something.
It was turning out to be a great day. Not only did Sean not hate her portrait—he loved it! And he'd invited her to a party, and her party would be cool now. And she'd won a blue ribbon. True love and artistic integrity at the same time. Who said you couldn't have both?
The fair traffic finally slowed down. Mads left her booth and headed for Stephen's installation. Everyone at the fair was buzzing about how cool it was. She was dying to see it, but she dreaded facing Stephen. She'd have to break it to him that he wouldn't be going on a date with Holly anytime soon, if ever.
The installation was big, almost the size of a real room, with three walls, a window, a bed, a closet, a rug—everything. Near the bed a TV monitor flashed videos. A sign next to the installation read THE BOY MAKES THE MAN BY STEPHEN COSTELLO. And next to it was a blue ribbon—First Prize for Best in Show.
“Hey! I won a blue ribbon too!” Mads said.
“Congratulations,” Stephen said. “Let me give you the tour.” Mads stepped inside the “room” and looked around. It was crammed with stuff to look at, but Mads’ eye was drawn to a poster on the wall. It was a pinup style poster of a girl, a teen princess posing in a cute blue dress under the heading THE DREAM GIRL. It almost looked like a movie ad, except the girl in the poster was no movie star—she was Mads!
“Aah!” Mads gasped. “That's me!”
“I know,” Stephen said. “You were my model for the ideal girl.”
“Me? I was your model?” Mads was stunned. What did this mean? Was it a joke? Was he teasing her? Did she look ridiculous, like Sean in his picture? Mads studied the poster carefully. She didn't think she looked ridiculous. She thought she looked kind of pretty. But then, that's what Sean thought about his picture, too. “You're making fun of me, right?”
“No,” Stephen said. “I wanted to show the perfect girl, the kind of girl boys dream about.”
“Okay, now I know you're kidding,” Mads said. “I'm not the perfect girl. Nobody dreams about me.”
“Are you sure?” Stephen asked.
“Well, there is this kid named Gilbert, but he's not normal.”
“Do you think I'm normal?” Stephen asked.
What was he trying to say? “Urn, I guess so,” she said, not sure what he wanted to hear. “I mean, you're not like most boys. But I don't think you're weird or abnormal or anything.”
“That's good to know.”
Mads felt confused. She was all ready to tell him that Holly didn't want to go out with him, but now she wondered if Holly was the one he liked after all.
“So how about that date?” Stephen asked. “Is it still on?”
“Not exactly,” Mads said. “Stephen, I have to tell you something. I hope you won't be too disappointed, but Holly—well, she's still hung up on Rob, and—”
“Holly?” Stephen said. “What does she have to do with it?”
“Isn't she the one you wanted to go out with?” Mads said. “I promised you I'd fix you up with her.”
“With Holly? I thought we were talking about you!”
“Me?” Mads was stunned. “But—Holly's picture—”
“It's beautiful,” Stephen said. “You did such a good job on it”
“I—?”
“I was admiring the picture, not the subject. I mean, of course Holly's a pretty girl. But what really got me was they way you saw her. Your artistic vision of her.”
“My artistic—” Mads’ head was reeling.
Stephen led Mads to one of his cardboard chairs and let her s
it. It was surprisingly sturdy. “Mads,” he said. “You're the one I like. I thought you knew that.”
“No,” Mads said. “I thought you liked Holly: Most guys like Holly.”
“But I like you.”
This is too much, Mads thought, first I win a blue ribbon, then Sean says he'll bring all his friends to cool up my party, then he invites me to Alex's, and then Stephen calls me the ideal girl!. And he wants to go out with me!
“So will you go out with me? Tomorrow night, maybe?” Stephen asked.
Mads wanted to say yes. She pictured herself on a date with Stephen. She hadn't allowed herself to think of him that way before. But now…her—and Stephen. Stephen kissing her! She tilted her face toward him. She wished she could kiss him now.
But something stopped her. Sean. Sean had just asked her to Alex's party. Was it a date? What if Sean wanted to go out with her now? What should she do?
She tried to speak, but no words came out. Torn between two lovers! She'd never understood before why that would be a problem, but now she got it.
“You weren't expecting this, were you?” Stephen said. “I caught you off guard. It's okay, Mads, you don't have to answer me right now. Think about it.”
“Thanks, Stephen.” God, he was so nice. And he liked her! It was going to take a little time to sink in. She never thought a boy like Stephen—a serious, philosophical, artistic boy—would like her. Not in a million years. But he did.
And why not? she thought. She was an artist herself. A blue ribbon artist.
She liked him, too. She'd always liked him. But now all the crushy feelings she'd had for him began to bubble up to the surface. In her mind she repeated the same thrilling sentence, Stephen likes me! Stephen likes me!
Still, Sean was there first. And she couldn't pass up a chance with Sean—not after all this time.
23
The Fabulous Party
To: hollygolitely
From: your daily horoscope
HERE IS TODAY'S HOROSCOPE: CAPRICORN: Don't go overboard. You want to attack your enemy with an atomic bomb when the flick of a finger is all you need to win. Chill!
Welcome to my fabulous party!” Audrey had staked out the front door dressed in a pink terrycloth minidress and platform sandals, a big blue flower in her strawberry-blond hair.
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