by Danika Stone
“God, me, too,” Ava said. “So glad to be in college now.”
“I haven’t graduated yet,” Madi admitted. “I take online classes.”
Laurent laughed. “I don’t think I’d be able to focus long enough to finish anything. Way too many distractions on the Internet.”
“That’s how regular classes were for me,” Madi said. “I just kind of zoned out.”
“I can’t believe your parents let you do online school,” Chantal said with a wistful sigh. “So does it work the same as a regular high school?”
“Well, yes and no.” Madi grinned. Now that the shock had passed, she was starting to feel like herself again. Perhaps real-life interactions weren’t so bad. “Millburn Academy is a private school,” Madi said. “It has both regular classes and online courses. Taking my whole diploma through OMA—the online track of Millburn Academy—was sort of my idea.”
“It was?”
“My parents are pretty busy most nights, so I convinced them I’d help out more with my younger sister if I could do online classes.” She shrugged. “I drop her off and pick her up after school, stuff like that. Seemed like a good trade.”
Ava looked skeptical. “And your parents were okay with that?”
“Eventually. They told me I could do OMA, but only for one semester, and only if I proved I could keep my grades up. So I spent all my time studying that first semester and … BAM!” She clapped her hands. “I was on the honor roll.”
“I barely slide by at the best of times.” Ava snorted.
“Ah, but you’re a badass,” Laurent said. “And that makes up for it.” Madi wasn’t sure why his comment to Ava irked her, but she soon forgot when he turned his attention back to her. “The honor roll is really cool, Madi. That takes a lot of work. Kudos to you.”
“It’s not as awesome as you’d think,” she said. “I’ve had to keep up those grades ever since.” She dropped her voice in imitation of her father. “‘You’ve got potential, Madi. You can’t waste that. I expect As from now on.’”
“Oh no,” Chantal groaned. “Like for every class? And you’ve got to write your MadLibs blog, too?”
“Yup.”
“How do you manage?”
“I dunno,” Madi said with a laugh. “I just do. The blog is fun. School is work.”
One corner of Laurent’s lips curled up into a lopsided grin. “Aha! You set the bar,” he said. “Now you’re dealing with the consequences. You’re a victim of your own success.”
“Something like that,” Madi said. “But that’s not the half of it. My dad’s a journalist and my mom’s a professor of microbiology, so there’s all this pressure to follow in their footsteps.…”
If Madi had been worried before meeting Laurent’s friends when she arrived, those fears were gone. Even Ava seemed to have toned back the attitude. The MadLibbers were the perfect reflection of why she loved online friendships. Chantal, aka @WrittenInChantalics, was the ingénue of the group. Ava, aka @ArtWithAttitude, the rebel. And Laurent, aka @laurentabelard, was everyone’s leading man. Madi peeked over at him: the unkempt hair brushing his collar, his aesthetic balanced between European fashion and grad-student poverty. Damnit! Some people have all the cards. It was like he’d been plucked right out of a romantic comedy.
As if sensing her watching, Laurent looked up and smiled, green eyes sparkling. Madi looked away. Too perfect, she thought. There’s got to be a chink in the armor. But if there was, she had yet to find it.
“We should probably head to the Metrograph,” Laurent said. “It’s going to be busy, and I want seats together.” Across the street, the crowds were starting to disappear through the entrance. “You ready to go?”
A twinge of fear flickered in Madi’s stomach, but she ignored it. “Sure.”
Chantal moved in next to Madi as the group headed down the street. “Have you decided yet?” she asked breathlessly.
“Decided what?”
“What your next MadLib topic is! I could hardly sleep last night, I was so excited about it!”
Madi peeked over to find Chantal grinning. “I, um … I kind of—”
“Is it hard to choose?”
“Sometimes, I guess. Especially if I have two I really like.”
“So how do you decide?” Chantal asked as they reached an intersection and stopped, waiting for the WALK signal. “How do you make the call?”
“Mostly it’s based on votes,” Madi said.
Ava smirked. “Do you ever cheat?” she teased.
“I swear we won’t tell,” Chantal added.
“Never needed to,” Madi said. “I’m pretty good at guessing what people will choose.”
“Do you know what this one will be?” Laurent asked.
“I’m hoping for Star Wars myself,” Chantal said. “That or Buffy.”
“Buffy is fantastic,” Ava said fiercely. “I’m fighting for that one. You’ve got to choose it. All right, Madi?”
“It’s up to the fans.”
“But we’re fans!” Chantal pleaded. “That counts for something, doesn’t it?!”
Madi grinned.
“Can’t we, like, bribe you or something?” Ava said drily. “Buffy needs a rewatch.”
“Star Wars would be better!” Chantal argued.
“Would not!”
“Would, too.”
“You haven’t even SEEN Buffy yet!” Ava snapped. “How would you even know?”
Madi giggled.
“I’ll read whatever Madi blogs about,” Laurent said. “I’m all about the experience.”
“The experience?” Ava scoffed. “That sounds dirty, you naughty boy.” Madi fought the urge to defend him as Laurent’s cheeks flushed and he looked away.
“Not at all!” he said. “I came to America to be immersed—and popular culture is part of it.”
“I know, I know,” Ava said.
“But I do like eighties movies. They’re very … optimistic.”
Everyone laughed. Up ahead, the entrance to the Metrograph theater was nearly clear of people. Madi sighed in relief. By the time they arrived, she would be able to come inside unseen. Irritated, Ava paced back and forth on the sidewalk, waiting for the light to change.
“I’m so excited for this new MadLib,” Chantal said. “And that you’re here with us!”
“Only if we get seats in time,” Ava grumbled.
“It’ll be fine,” Laurent said. “Relax.”
Ava swore under her breath.
“The light’s going to change. Just give it a minute to—”
Ava darted out into traffic without warning. Chantal shrieked.
“Metrograph’s going to be packed,” Ava shouted as horns blared. “I’ll grab us places to sit. You catch up!”
They watched as she sprinted down the street and disappeared through the theater’s entrance.
“Only Ava.” Chantal giggled.
A minute later, the light changed and they crossed. Laurent dropped back, coming around behind them to fall into step at Madi’s side. She bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from grinning.
“You know, Laurent,” Madi said, “if eighties movies are your thing, you should go for it. I’m happy with whatever. But be warned: Brian’s determined to bring a science-fiction renaissance to MadLibs. He and a few other people are promoting faves. Star Wars might take it.” She bumped him with her shoulder as they walked. “You should promote, too.”
Laurent smiled down at her. “Maybe I will.”
She nodded. “Good.”
* * *
Ava had been right. The Metrograph was packed. Row after row of refurbished seats was filled with a sea of strangers, their eyes following Laurent, Chantal, and Madi as they waded into the tide. Madi touched Laurent’s sleeve as her fears took hold. He glanced back.
“Are there any seats left?” she whispered, scanning the rows for an open section. “It doesn’t look like there are.”
“I’m sure there are som
e left. Ava texted me that she’s up near the front.” He glanced at his phone’s screen. “She says she saved four seats for us.”
Madi’s eyes skittered to the crowd. “I don’t know…”
His hand brushed hers, then moved away. “Trust me. All right?”
She nodded.
Whispers rose from the gallery as they came forward. Madi didn’t want to hear the people talking, but with the limited walking room, she couldn’t help it. Hissed phrases pushed at her from all sides. People leaned forward, staring.
“Is that her?”
“Not sure—”
“She doesn’t post pictures online.… Don’t know what she looks like.”
“But that’s Laurent, isn’t it?”
The sounds rose from a hiss to the sound of a swarm of bees.
“—he said he’d bring MadLib along.”
“It is her! I’m sure of it!”
“Madi!” a voice shouted. “MADLIB!”
Laurent took Madi’s hand, his warm fingers drawing her attention. She looked up. “C’mon. We’re over here.”
The crowd’s chatter had risen to fill the theater with the roar of a hundred voices. Madi could no longer make out individual words.
Laurent stepped into a row of seats near the front of the theater, but before Madi could follow, a middle-aged woman stood, blocking her way.
“You’re MadLib, aren’t you?” she exclaimed.
“I—I—”
Laurent leaned sideways, catching Madi’s eyes. “Got to go,” he said, cheerfully ignoring the human barrier that separated them. “Ava’s halfway down.” Laurent pulled her in front of him. Suddenly, his hands were on her shoulders, guiding her, and all Madi could focus on was the warmth.
“You looked worried.”
“Thanks, I was.… I’m okay now.” Her gaze lifted to the rows of the theater. People stood on chairs, pointing, and for once in her life Madi was glad she was barely five feet tall. “Where’s Ava sitting?”
“Just a little farther.”
“MadLib!” a voice nearby shrieked and Madi jumped.
Laurent leaned in, his mouth near her ear. “Sorry about all of this. You’re a bit of a celebrity with the MadLibbers, you know.”
“I’m starting to realize that.” Madi tucked her chin and walked faster.
“It IS MadLib!” someone cried.
Madi ducked down as soon as they reached their seats. Laurent sat next to Ava, Madi next to him, Chantal on Madi’s other side, buffering her from the crowd on each side. For a few seconds, Madi thought things might calm down, but then the woman sitting in the seat ahead of Madi turned around.
“Oh my God! It’s you! You’re really MadLib!” She stared over the back of her seat while Madi avoided eye contact. This was growing weirder by the second! “I heard you might be coming,” she gasped. “I didn’t believe it, but you’re here—with us—like really, really here!”
Madi’s gaze flicked up to discover the woman had leaned halfway over the seat. Ava snorted with laughter.
“Madi,” Ava said drily, “this here is Steph, though you probably know her as @antebellumintro. Steph, this is MadLib—also called Madi.”
“It’s good to put a face to the name,” Madi said, though she had no recollection of that MadLibber’s name. There were simply too many fans.
“It’s so great to meet you!” Steph cried. “I couldn’t believe it when Ava said she needed seats, but not just for anyone. For MadLib herself!”
“Thanks.” Madi sank lower in her chair, but Steph leaned closer.
“I’d heard Laurent was bringing you,” she continued. “But I didn’t think you’d actually come. I’ve followed your blog for almost two years. You’ve never met your fans before.” She reached out her hand to shake. “It’s seriously awesome to meet you!”
“Thanks.”
Madi slid down until she was almost reclining.
Ava stood and gently took Steph’s shoulders. “Honey, you’re overcrowding the talent. Maybe some breathing room?”
“Of course! Let’s talk later, all right?”
“Um … okay?”
Steph grinned and slid back into her seat.
For a second, Madi thought the worst was over. “Thanks, Ava,” she said. “I appreciate you—”
But before Madi could finish, a new face appeared, leaning across the aisle in front of Laurent to get Madi’s attention. “Hey, Madi!” he shouted. “I was wondering if you could sign the coffee mug I got from your store!” He shoved it toward her.
“Sorry, do what?”
“Sign my mug!” A Sharpie marker appeared in the man’s grip. “If you could write: ‘To Ben, from MadLib,’ that’d be great!”
“I guess,” Madi said, “but we’ve got to hurry. The movie will be starting in a minute, and I don’t—”
“It’ll only take a second. Besides, there’s a bunch of people waiting to talk to you.”
Madi looked up from writing. Her eyes widened. “Oh hell no.…”
In the last seconds of stilted conversation, a line of people had appeared in the row. The queue of fans stretched down the length of the chairs and wound up the aisle, as at least thirty people waited for a chance to talk to her.
“MadLib! Madi! MADIIII!”
For fifteen endless minutes, Madi signed and talked and shook hands with a blur of fans who’d made the incongruous jump from her online world to real life. Everyone had a story to tell. Each person a request. Every once in a while, Madi caught Laurent’s gaze, but he seemed as helpless to stop the tide of MadLibbers as she was. The theater lights dimmed, but the MadLibbers kept coming.
“I’m sorry,” Madi said, wobbling from exhaustion. “But the movie—”
Suddenly, Ava rose and pushed her way in front of Madi, directly into the line of fire. Her voice rang out through the theater. “Madi’s only got time to say hello. No signings, no requests!” she bellowed. “If you want to talk after the show is over, she’ll be available for fifteen minutes. No more!”
“Thank you for following my blog!” Madi shouted as they turned away. “I’d love to talk to you after the movie!”
With a few shouts of “MadLib!” the line dispersed into the growing darkness.
Grinning, Madi sat down. “Thanks for wrangling the crowd, Ava. I didn’t think I’d ever get through that.”
Ava smirked. “Not a problem. But you’d better be ready for more meet and greet after the movie ends. I gave you a breather, not an out. There’ll be die-hards waiting the second the credits roll.”
Madi peered over her shoulder. If the theater had been busy before, it was now full to capacity. Attendants walked the aisles, guiding the people huddled on the stairs to the nosebleed seats in the back.
“This is all so crazy.” She laughed.
“What’s that?” Laurent asked, sliding his coat from his shoulders. The koi flashed to life, swimming in the tan depths of his arm.
“There are so many people here tonight.”
“They came out for you,” Laurent said, smiling.
She blushed and looked away. It felt like he was saying something else, but she didn’t dare ask if she was right. On-screen, the previews began. As if on cue, the entire group of them pulled out their phones. Even Laurent—ever attentive—checked through his messages. Unlike Madi’s parents, who insisted on talking face-to-face if they were in the same room together, the MadLibbers seemed to have an intrinsic understanding of the digital interface. Ava chatted to the girl next to her, but her hands blurred over the screen at the same time. Even Laurent seemed caught up in his own list of notifications.
Madi sighed. With everyone drawn into their own devices, she could finally relax. Laughter rose from one end of the theater’s aisle and was echoed at the other side. There was a quiet camaraderie. Voices balanced by the ping of text notifications and the warmth of laughter. Madi leaned back in her seat.
“You look a little more relaxed,” Laurent said.
She
smiled. “I just needed a few minutes to get used to this kind of…” She waved at the theater. “Notoriety.”
“Of course. And for the rest of us to get used to you, too.”
Madi nodded. She could feel it now, a different kind of excitement. These were MadLibbers, her people. They’d come because of her posts. Because of HER. The smile grew until it filled her expression.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Laurent said.
Madi nodded as her phone buzzed. She glanced down to discover both Ava and Chantal had tweeted at her to ask her what the new focus of the MadLibs blog would be. Undecided, Madi searched her dashboard for “MadLibs” to see if anyone besides Brian was on the campaign trail. She snickered as a post appeared. Somewhere, among her countless fans, a MadLibber had started yet another MadLibs meme.
Laurent leaned closer. “What is it?”
Madi turned her phone’s screen to him and he scrolled up to read the tags. He chuckled, the rumble moving from his arm to hers. The houselights faded into full darkness, but he was close enough she could still pick out details. Laurent’s face, in profile, looked like a statue: jaw perfectly cut at a ninety-degree angle, the muscle visible under the skin. The smell of his cologne was distracting. He was too close. Too beautiful. Madi’s heart pounded so loudly she could feel her chest vibrating with each thud.
“So you like old movies, huh?” she whispered.
“Mm-hmm,” Laurent said with a wink. “I really do.”
She grinned. “Me, too.”
She was going to say more, but Ava said something to Laurent, and he turned away, ending their conversation. His head tipped to the side as Ava animatedly whispered, then Laurent laughed and whispered something in return. Madi’s smile faded.
Laurent certainly liked Madi as a friend, but more than that, she couldn’t say. Distracted from the movie, she could only think of how confident he seemed, how at ease. But that wasn’t her … at least not in real life.
* * *
Hours later, Madi and Laurent headed out of the theater onto the nighttime street. The MadLibbers swelled around them, and Madi forced herself to face them. She smiled and nodded, talking to more people than she could remember interacting with in her entire life. Ava had promised the crowd fifteen minutes, but it was closer to half an hour before they started to disperse.