by Laura Dower
Madison was floored. What would Mrs. Wing think if she knew that all of this change had come from a confrontation between Madison and Madhur? Madison wanted Mrs. Wing to think that the two Maddies had their stories straight.
She glared at Madhur as if to say, What are you saying? Please, just let me do the talking. Madhur nodded, as if she understood everything Madison was thinking. “It was easier to write something for the conference when we cared about it personally,” Madison said. “Of course, you told us that.”
“No, no,” Mrs. Wing insisted. “You two came to this on your own. Like a true team. You found something that mattered. That’s the whole point of the world leaders summit. We want to learn about and argue about things that really and truly matter. Sometimes that means taking the long route instead of a shortcut.”
“Yeah,” Madison and Madhur said at the exact same time. Then Madison spoke again. “We wrote a short piece together about the importance of bridging our own cultural differences.”
“Hmmm,” Mrs. Wing said, “tell me more.”
“I think it’s important for kids like us to know their roots, culture, and their ma bohlee,” Madison went on, staring directly at Madhur.
“That’s a person’s mother language,” Madhur added.
“Nice thinking, girls,” Mrs. Wing said, nodding. “I am so eager to hear your presentation. You two seem to have worked very, very well together. It’s good fortune that you were matched up, yes?”
Madison felt a knot inside. She wanted to blurt out, “Not really,” but she said nothing; she just smiled and nodded back at her teacher and at Madhur.
“We know how lucky we are,” Madhur added, sounding as though she meant it.
Did she mean it?
After a few moments, an impressed Mrs. Wing dismissed the girls and left to go to the teachers’ lounge. They packed up their bags in silence. Finally Madhur spoke.
“Thank you,” Madhur said softly, “for covering for me. I appreciate that. I’m just sorry that I won’t be able to do the conference on Saturday.”
“Don’t worry. It wasn’t a big deal, I think—wait…. What did you say?” It took Madison a moment to digest the words. “What do you mean, you won’t be able to do the conference on Saturday?”
“I would really like to go, but I just can’t,” Madhur said and shook her head sadly. “It sounds like you already have the perfect speech, so you don’t need me anymore, anyway.”
“What?” Madison didn’t know how to respond. “I can’t do the speech alone. We’re in pairs for a reason.”
Just then, Egg and Drew appeared at the door.
“Pssst! Maddie,” Egg shouted from the doorway.
“Oh, Egg! What do you want?” Madison grumbled.
“Hart’s looking for you,” Egg said.
“He is?” Madison said. She turned to Madhur, whose gaze had shifted to the floor.
“Madhur, look …” Madison started to say.
But Madhur cut her off. “I’d better go,” She blurted out before rushing out of Mrs. Wing’s classroom in a flurry.
Madison stood back, stunned. She considered racing after her new friend, but held back. She’d only known Madhur for a short time. How could these feelings be so real and so big? Why had the whole thing imploded? It couldn’t just be about Hart—could it?
After lingering a moment, Madison grabbed her own bag and headed for the hallway. Madhur had vanished. Madison didn’t have a clue as to where.
Slowly, she walked toward the girls’ bathroom. With only a few moments before the next class, Madison needed time to calm down, breathe deep, and collect all her emotions.
Fortunately, there were no other girls inside the bathroom. Madison dumped her bag on the floor, leaned forward on the sink, and inhaled. The bathroom air smelled like sour antiseptic.
How could Madison attend—and do her presentation at—the conference all by herself? She couldn’t. Could she?
No. No. No.
The door to the bathroom jangled, and Madison turned. Knowing her luck, Ivy and the drones would probably file inside. Quickly, she ducked into a stall. She peered out from beneath the door to spy on whoever entered the bathroom.
Madison immediately recognized a pair of turned-out ballerina feet walking to the sink.
“Aim!” she squealed, pushing open the stall door.
Aimee turned pale. She nearly collapsed backward against the sink.
“Oh. My. God,” Aimee exclaimed. “You scared me stiff.”
“Sorry,” Madison said. “I didn’t mean to do that. I was just so glad to see you.”
“What are you doing in here? Don’t you have a meeting with Madhur and Mrs. Wing, to work on the conference?”
Madison shook her head. “No. It’s over.”
“Over? What are you talking about?”
“Madhur quit.”
“What?”
“She dropped out.”
“No way.”
“Yes, way.”
“That’s awful. What happened?” Aimee asked.
As Madison explained, Aimee nodded compassionately. Sometimes she could be moody or too focused on her dancing, but today—at that very moment—she was entirely focused on her BFF. As Madison talked and talked, Aimee was all ears.
“Okay,” Aimee said, when Madison had finished telling her about what happened in Mrs. Wing’s classroom. “Here’s what you need to do: tell her what you’re thinking.”
It sounded a lot like Bigwheels’s advice.
But it seemed next to impossible.
“You’re kidding, right?” Madison said in disbelief.
“Look, Madhur’s probably embarrassed because she was blabbing all that time about Hart and you didn’t say anything, and now she’s way too embarrassed to do the conference with you,” Aimee said.
“You think?” Madison asked.
“Of course,” Aimee said matter-of-factly. “And now you have to be the one to help her feel less embarrassed.”
“Wait a minute,” Madison said. “You don’t even like Madhur. Now it sounds like you’re taking her side.”
“I was acting weird about her before,” Aimee said. “But that was because I was jealous. Madhur is a very cool person. I see that. It just bugged me that you spent so much time with her, Maddie.”
Madison couldn’t believe that Aimee had come right out and admitted this.
“You know me,” Aimee said honestly. “I like having you as my friend too much to let someone else come along and take you away.”
“Take me away?” Madison asked. “What are you talking about? Where was I going?”
“For days you were spending all your time with Madhur,” Aimee said. “I think Madhur’s interesting. And I’d like to know her more. But that didn’t stop me from feeling blown off. And then I had to drop out of the conference.”
Madison didn’t know what to think about this turn of events. It was as if all these feelings were flying around the room. She had to keep ducking so she wouldn’t get slammed by them all.
“The point is,” Aimee said, “you need to help Madhur feel better. Right? That’s what friends do, right? You always make me feel better.”
Nodding, Madison lunged and threw her arms around Aimee. “You’re the best, Aim.”
“Yeah, I know,” Aimee said.
Madison felt a weight lift from her shoulders, even though she hadn’t done the hard work yet. Could she resolve things with Madhur? Madison contemplated her next steps.
“So now I know what I have to do,” Madison said. “How do I do it?”
“Write Madhur a note and put it in her locker,” Aimee suggested. “Tell her you want to do the conference with her or you won’t go. Say something like that. It’ll make her feel a little guiltier about dropping out. I know that sounds mean, but I bet she goes for it. I would.”
“I hope it works,” Madison said. “I need her.”
Aimee nodded. “And I need you to cheer me up, too.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Madison asked.
“Dance.”
“Dance is wrong? Why? You love it,” Madison said.
“Yeah, of course. But I’m just way too nervous to think about my performance on Saturday, and the only people coming to see me are parents and grandparents, which is a bummer. None of you. I wish more of my friends could be there. But that wasn’t meant to be a guilt trip….”
“You’re right,” Madison said. “I should be going to your dance performance instead of doing this conference, shouldn’t I? Oh, I’m so confused.”
“You’re doing the right thing going to the conference. You’re good at that stuff. That is important.”
“But you’re important, too,” Madison said.
Aimee smiled. “Just write the note to Madhur. Get her back as your partner. E me later to tell me what she says,” she said.
Madison smiled. “Thanks, Aim. I feel better. Do you feel better?”
“Yeah,” Aimee said. “A little.”
“I’ll let you know what happens,” Madison promised.
“Cool,” Aimee said with a flip of her braid. She twirled out of the bathroom, leaving Madison alone with her thoughts, a scrap of notepaper, and the beginnings of a note to Madhur.
Next stop: Madhur’s locker.
Madison hoped that Aimee’s idea would solve everything. She needed to get her conference partner back—and fast. Thanks to Aimee, she had a good plan that just might work.
Chapter 11
All Shook Up
One more day until the Junior World Leaders Conference, or FWLS (Fools) conference, as Chet has been calling it. He thinks the whole thing is pretty silly, which makes it absolutely clear that the only reason he’s doing ANY of this is to get Madhur’s attention. Though we all know now that she has her eye on someone else.
Not that she’s even coming tomorrow BUT I sure hope I see her today and everything is made better. Right now I have this crummy feeling inside and I wishwishwish I had said something about Hart from the beginning. I wish I hadn’t pretended to go along with her when she admitted her crush on my crush. I was just so afraid of what she would say. I was afraid.
There. I said it. I was afraid.
So here I am sitting in homeroom before classes on Friday with one day before the conference happens, and all I can think to do is write in my files. Everything around me feels weird except the writing. Everyone’s coming into the room and staring at me, too, like they always do when I’m working on this orange laptop.
I don’t get it. I thought that by today I would be the happiest person at FHJH.
Rude Awakening: I’m on top of the world. But where do I go from here? Doesn’t everyone know I’m afraid of heights?
Things with Madhur started out so new and exciting. And now everything seems REALLY all shook up and I’m not so high up after all and I am just SO not into falling.
“Maddie,” a voice said from across the room.
It was Poison Ivy Daly, looking as poisonous as ever. She took a seat next to Madison. Thankfully, the drones weren’t around.
“Can I help you?” Madison quipped.
Ivy snarled. “Not likely,” she said, crossing her legs. Madison always wondered how she managed to balance on any stool or chair, in her itty-bitty skirt with her itty-bitty platform sneakers (that weren’t really allowed in class anyway). But Ivy always did.
Class was about to start. Mr. Danehy clapped two erasers together to get everyone’s attention. Mr. Danehy was one of the only teachers in the building who still liked to use his regular chalkboard.
Just then, static buzzed over the loudspeaker. Principal Bernard’s voice blared into the classroom.
“Your attention! Your attention, please,” he said.
Everyone covered their ears, because whenever the principal spoke into a microphone over the loudspeaker, there was always a surge of loud, squeaky feedback.
“Hello, classes seven, eight, and nine. Today is a special day. Everyone is anticipating tomorrow’s big event, the World Leaders Junior Leaders Conference.”
Madison giggled because the principal had gotten all the words mixed up.
Mr. Bernard cleared his throat. “Here at Far Hills Junior High, we are proud to have several exceptional students participating in Saturday’s conference. Your faculty advisers have told me that many of you have written excellent speeches and prepared great presentations. I cannot wait to see and hear all of you in action.”
Madison gulped. Hearing the conference spoken about in such formal terms by the school principal made her nerves tingle.
“You’re doing something for that dumb conference, aren’t you?” Ivy asked snidely.
“Who wants to know?” Madison replied, just as snidely.
“Give me a break,” Ivy said. “I want to know.”
“I think the conference is a great chance to express opinions and learn new things about—” Madison said.
Ivy poked her finger into her mouth and pretended to throw up.
But Madison just smiled. She wasn’t going to let the enemy get her down.
“Be that way. Fine,” Madison said.
“Fine?” Ivy said. She started to laugh.
“Miss Daly!” Mr. Danehy barked from the front of the classroom. “What’s so funny?”
Ivy blanched. “Nothing,” she said, looking very, very embarrassed. One of the truly redeeming things about science class was the fact that Mr. Danehy often picked on Ivy. Unlike some of the other teachers in the school, Madison was certain that he saw through the enemy’s veneer.
Madison stifled the impulse to laugh in Ivy’s face.
Mr. Danehy invited the students to take out their textbooks. That was usually a hint—a sign, really—that he was thinking of giving a pop quiz before the period ended.
Madison groaned as she pulled out her book. The last thing she felt prepared to do was take any kind of quiz—especially not one in science. She hadn’t done her reading assignments for the last two days. Now it seemed she would be quizzed on the very sixty pages she hadn’t yet read.
Could this bleak day get any bleaker?
“I can’t believe he’s gonna give us a quiz,” Madison muttered under her breath. “He gives us help by letting us review the chapters, and then, whammo! Here comes a quiz.”
“Quiz? I don’t think so,” Ivy said. “Besides, even if we do have one, I’ll just look at your paper for the answers.”
Since the start of seventh grade, Madison and Ivy had been slotted into almost all of the same classes. And in this class, they had been made science-lab partners. Not only did Madison have to endure Ivy’s presence, she had to endure it in the seat directly facing her own. Ivy always copied the homework and cheated on quizzes. No matter what Madison did to protect her answers, Ivy would find a way to steal them. She never seemed to study on her own.
“Ladies!” Mr. Danehy’s voice boomed again. “Gentlemen! Let’s keep the talk to a minimum, please.”
Madison dropped her eyes. She didn’t want to get called on by name in the middle of this class—or any class.
As she looked up, Madison caught Hart’s glance. His eyes twinkled, and he grinned one of his Hey, how are you doing? grins. Next to him, Chet was grinning, too. Madison was astonished at the changes in Chet lately. It seemed as if ever since he’d developed his crush on Madhur, Chet had become cuter and way more likeable. He didn’t make a joke out of everything.
What did it all mean?
“I think this whole conference is so-o-o lame,” Ivy laughed. “For those of us who don’t care, why should we have to put up with all this disruption?”
“Maybe you should just be quiet about it,” Madison said, shooting Ivy a hard, cold stare.
Madison sat back on her stool. Had she really just snapped at Ivy like that? Somehow, talking back to the enemy got easier over time. Madison didn’t feel as threatened or bullied as she had some
times felt in fifth or sixth grade. Had Ivy lost a little of her power?
Hart sat there, still staring and smiling. Madison liked the attention. It was obvious why Madhur thought Hart was so cute and talented—and why Ivy still couldn’t let go of her Hart fixation, either.
Hart was one of a kind.
Madison’s kind.
With five minutes left of class, Mr. Danehy threw his hands into the air and said, “Okay, everyone, book bags away.” He started to distribute quiz sheets around the class.
Madison turned to Ivy. “Good luck,” she whispered sarcastically, and promptly covered her own quiz sheet, angling her body so there was no way Ivy could see even one of her answers.
Ivy looked steamed.
By the time the class bell rang, Madison answered all five pop quiz questions correctly. That gave her the jolt of confidence that she needed, leaving Ivy sitting there with a blank sheet of paper.
On the way out, Madison caught up with Hart.
“How did you do?” Hart asked. “I thought it was easy as pie for a Danehy quiz.”
Madison nodded. “Yeah, considering I haven’t done homework all week.”
“You haven’t?” Hart laughed. “What was Miss Ivy blabbing to you about during class?” he asked.
Madison bit her lip. “You,” she said teasingly.
“Get out of here,” Hart said. “Are you serious?”
“Kidding,” Madison replied. “The truth is that Ivy was trying to copy my notes and my quiz. And she kept telling me that I was a big geek for doing the Junior World Leaders Conference. But we know the truth: she’s the geek.”
“Geek? Freak! What does she know about anything?” Hart said.
“Not much,” Madison concurred.
As they walked into the corridor, Hart pressed the small of Madison’s back, just to the left of the bag she’d slung over her shoulder. That caught Madison’s attention, and she stopped short. “Hart,” she asked cautiously. “Um … I was wondering … Did you ever say anything to Madhur to make her think that maybe she …”