Read Friends till the End Online

Authors: Laura Dower

Friends till the End (6 page)

: so now ur friends again?

: not friends exactly but I don’t hate her as much

: there’s no hope for me & Ivy

: come on there’s ALWAYS hope :>)

: im so lucky ur my keypal—u totally get me—even when I’m feeling my crabbiest

: It takes 1 crab to know 1 crab LOL

: OMG it’s late I better go TTFN

: E me l8r

Madison clicked the power button off, and the screen sizzled to black. Was there such a thing as staying online
too long?
Her brain felt deep-fried from all that chat.

After shutting the laptop with a loud click, petting Phin, and (barely) brushing her teeth, Madison crawled feet first under the blankets. By the time Mom came in to say good night, Madison was halfway to dreamland.

Chapter 6

M
R. AND MRS. MONTEFIORE
posted the school revue list prominently in the downstairs school lobby as they said they would, just before the second official meeting of the revue committee. Madison and her friends stopped off to check it out. They could barely see in all the chaos. Seventh, eighth,
and
ninth graders bobbed up and down to find their names.

“Wow!” Aimee shrieked when she saw her own name right at the top of the list. “I’m a choreographer’s assistant!”

Madison wanted to laugh. Aimee was jumping up and down as if she’d just won a coveted spot on
American Idol.

“Oh, no,” Aimee said a moment later, in a much softer voice. “I see Rose on the list, too.”

“Yeah,” Fiona said, “but she doesn’t have ‘assistant’ after her name. That makes you way more important.”

“Oh, yeah,” Aimee said, giving her friend a high five.

Lindsay scanned the list for her own name and spotted it quickly under
PERFORMERS
.

“I’m a performer—and look, so is Fiona!” Lindsay cried. “I wonder what that means.”

“It means we are stars!” Fiona said.

“Of course, you are,” Madison said with a teeny bit of sarcasm.

Fiona caught the dig, but she still smiled. Then, in the middle of everything, she started to sing. Kids elbowed her as they moved closer to the list to find their names, but Fiona kept right on singing. Somehow, she didn’t get embarrassed by things that would have sent most kids diving under a rock.

Madison preferred to keep a safe distance from all the hoopla. She hovered at the fringes of the crowd. Was she even
on
the list?

As she stood there, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Madison saw Poison Ivy and the drones step up to the list. Ivy looked ecstatic; Rose seemed less enthused; Joanie didn’t seem to care one way or the other; they were all whispering.

Madison craned her neck and tried to eavesdrop on their little conversation. She was just close enough to hear—yet far enough away to remain unnoticed.

“I refuse to sing with
them,”
were Ivy’s exact words. She always sounded as if she were plotting something. Madison could only guess what.

“What are you doing?” Aimee said.

Madison nearly jumped out of her skin. “Aim!” she cried. “I didn’t know you were standing right there—” She glanced behind Aimee to see if Ivy and the drones were watching, but they weren’t.

“Did you see the list? You’re a backstage assistant!” Aimee said. “Wait. That’s good, right? That’s what you wanted, right?”

Madison breathed a huge sigh of relief. “That means I don’t have to sing or dance. Of course it’s good,” she said.

Just then, Madhur raced over.

“Am I too late? I had to meet with the gym teacher, can you believe it? Did you know they blocked off the third-floor stairwell? I could just scream!”

“Come look for your name,” Aimee said as she dragged Madhur over to the side. It was there, right next to Aimee’s name, under
CHOREOGRAPHY
.

“Huh? Choreography?” Madhur said, breaking into a giggle. “I told Mr. Montefiore I’d do anything, but I didn’t think I’d have to dance. Aimee, did you plan this?”

“You have to dance with me…” Aimee said.

Madison laughed and nudged Madhur. “Looks like Aimee’s roped you in, Maddie One,” she said, using the familiar nickname she had given to her.

“Well, as you know, I’m always up for new things, Maddie Two!” Madhur said cheerily. She threw her arm around Aimee’s shoulder. “So, I guess I will dance. I just hope I don’t fall on my face. Not that I haven’t done that before…”

The five pals chuckled and skittered over toward the auditorium, where the second meeting was about to take place. On the way in, Madison bumped right into Mariah.

“Yo! Slow it down, mama,” Mariah said, jokingly. “The meeting hasn’t even started yet.”

“Hey,” Madison said, standing up tall. She noticed that Mariah’s pink streaks were gone.

“What happened to your—?” Madison pointed to Mariah’s head.

“By order of the assistant principal. Ditch the pink or sit out the rest of the year,” Mariah said morosely. “I didn’t have much choice. My mom was so mad.”

“I bet she was,” Madison said, smirking. Señora Diaz played by the rules. Of course she had to, since she was a teacher at the school.

“Have you seen Egg?” Mariah asked Madison. “I didn’t see his name anywhere on the list…”

Madison looked over at Fiona. “What did Egg tell you again? He can’t do it because…”

“He’s too busy with his computer. Something like that,” Fiona explained. “He hasn’t come to any of the meetings. Hardly any of our guy friends have come. It’s a bummer.”

“It figures,” Mariah grumbled. “I’ll talk to him. Maybe there’s some way I can blackmail him into it.”

Everyone laughed at the thought of that. Once, Mariah had brought in a photo of Egg, naked, lying on a fuzzy blue rug; it was taken when he was a baby. She showed it to Madison and Aimee and a few other girls. Egg was mortified to know that everyone had seen his bare bottom—even if he was only two at the time the picture had been taken.

As they took their seats, the revue meeting began: loud, chaotic, and overwhelming. It got even more so as the time wore on. Kids pushed one another, diving into half-empty rows. For some reason, there were about three times as many kids at meeting number two as there had been at meeting number one. Another five teacher-advisers had joined the crew, helping Mr. and Mrs. Montefiore organize the crowd.

“Finnster!” someone whispered in Madison’s ear. Of course, she knew right away who it was.

Hart.

“Hey,” Madison said softly as she turned around to see his face. They walked single file into a row of seats where Fiona and the other girls had dumped their stuff. “I was wondering if you’d show up. And I didn’t even think to look for your name on the list,” she told him in her sweetest voice. “You’re performing, right?”

“Nah,” Hart replied. “I’m backstage. Just like you.”

“Backstage?” Madison asked. “But I thought you wanted to sing or dance or something else in the spotlight”

“Nah,” Hart said again. “I thought we could hang together instead. After all, these are the last few weeks of school, right?”

“Right,” Madison said. “Good thinking.”

The teacher-advisers spent the entire revue meeting dividing the room into different groups by age, category, and act. Madison and Hart ended up together with a bunch of other seventh-grade performers, including Fiona, her brother Chet, Lindsay, and Drew, who had showed up late. All four of them would perform the same songs, two chipper tunes from the musical
Bye Bye Birdie
called “The Telephone Hour” and “A Lot of Livin’ to Do.”

Chet fidgeted in his seat. “Maybe I should have done something
invisible
instead of this,” he said, eyeing the end of the row.

Madison, Lindsay, and Fiona giggled. They knew he’d only signed on for this revue so he could get a little closer to Madhur. But they opted not to tease Chet publicly for his crush. That would have embarrassed Madhur even more than him.

As Mr. Montefiore played a medley of tunes, including one called “Sit Down, You’re Rocking the Boat,” from
Guys and Dolls,
Hart leaned close to Madison. He was so close that she could feel his breath on the side of her neck when he talked. Madison thought about what Bigwheels had said last night during their online chat.

Hands…

Hart…

Kisses…

“What are you thinking about?” Hart asked. His words snapped Madison out of her reverie, and she stared dumbly into his dark eyes.

“Uh…homework,” Madison stammered.

Of course, Madison couldn’t tell him the truth.

I was thinking about you, you, YOU.

“Hey, I was wondering…” Hart mumbled. “You want to go to the movies with Drew and Elaine this weekend? I think my dad is going to come with us. And maybe Dan, too.”

“You mean Dan
and
Lindsay, right?” Madison said, in a soft voice so Lindsay wouldn’t hear. Lindsay was sitting a few seats away.

Hart shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Why? Are they hanging out?”

Madison leaned back, surprised.
Of course they’re hanging out, you goofball! You know who
t
he couples are! It’s the end of school, and except for Aimee, we’ve all paired off. Where have you been?

“Dan didn’t say anything?” she asked.

Hart was about to answer when Mrs. Montefiore stood up to the microphone on the auditorium stage.

“Okay, everyone! Let’s call it a wrap for today. Students, on your way out of the room, please pick up one of the revue rehearsal schedules. In addition to performers and dancers, we’ll be having practice sessions and meetings for prop people, lighting people, set designers, and others. This is the last time we’ll meet as such a large group—until, of course, the real show…”

Everyone in the room started to applaud.

“One more thing!” Mrs. Montefiore cried. “According to the latest head count, this is our biggest group ever—and we’re more excited than ever! So, thank you, one and all.”

Everyone clapped a little louder, and then the scramble began: up the aisles, through the doors, into the outside world. It was a mad scene. Pushed from side to side, Madison clung to Hart on the way out, the fingers of both her hands holding on to the back of his polo shirt. It felt nice to be attached to someone like him.

“Are you okay?” Hart asked, shooting her a quick look.

“Mmmm,” Madison grinned and pinched the folds of his shirt a little tighter as she held on.

After leaving the school building (and saying good-bye to Hart), Madison headed home with Aimee. For block after block, Aimee talked nonstop. Madison’s ears hurt. “The dance numbers are so-o-o complex and sophisticated, and I’m responsible for
three
—yes,
three
—different dances, and that’s more than any of the other assistants are responsible for, including the eighth and ninth graders. How amazing, with a capital A, is that?”

Whew.

Madison didn’t know what to say when Aimee got her rant on like that. Was it safer just to listen and nod? That was what she did.

After parting ways (finally) with Queen Chatterbox, Madison headed straight for home. Mom was in the kitchen waiting on a report of all the details of the revue meeting.

“So, tell me…” Mom asked with a sly grin.

Madison snagged a fistful of salted pretzels and chuckled. “Tell you what?”

Mom paced around the kitchen. “Are you doing a dance solo, or an operatic aria?” she asked.

“Very cute, Mom,” Madison said. “No, I asked for behind-the-scenes, props or set work or lighting. Something like that.”

“Good for you, honey bear,” Mom said, still pacing. “Sounds like a great adventure.”

“Oh, speaking of adventures, I keep forgetting to give you something,” Madison said. She produced the crumpled permission slip for the field trip to Lake Dora that had been inside her orange bag for half the week. “You need to sign this.”

“What’s this? A day trip? Lake Dora?” Mom said. She stopped pacing long enough to read it.

Rowowoworrooooo!

Phin bounded into the kitchen, howling loudly. Madison warmly cradled the pug in her arms and kissed his soft little pointy ears.

Mom started to pace again. If she kept it up, she would make a neat groove in the tiled floor.

“Um…Mom? Is everything okay?” Madison asked.

Mom nodded. “I have things on my mind.”

Then she stopped in her tracks, scribbled her name along the bottom line of the permission slip, and handed it back to Madison.

“Did I do something?” Madison asked.

“You? No-o-o-o,” Mom smiled.

“Then what? Is it your job again?” Madison asked.

“Sometimes you read me like a book,” Mom said, collapsing into a kitchen chair. “Here’s what happened. I got another call from the other film company. They made me a good offer for the new executive job.”

“That’s good news!” Madison cried. “You wanted that to happen, right?”

“Yes. But…” Mom’s voice trailed off.

Madison raised an eyebrow.
“But?”

“But…
then…
this afternoon … the CEO of Budge Films came to me with a bonus incentive and an incredible new project. It’s a documentary I’ve wanted to do for years. Some timing, right?”

“So what is this dream documentary about?” Madison asked.

“They want me to do a Japan travelogue, a story about the island volcanoes and hot springs.”

“Whoa. That sounds interesting,” Madison said, even though she didn’t know much about Japan or any other place in Asia—except India, having done several recent Internet searches. She’d tried to learn about Punjab and all the places where Madhur’s family had lived. That was it.

“So, when are you going to make a decision on the new job offer?” Madison asked.

“I don’t know,” Mom answered solemnly. “What do you think I should do?”

“What do
I
think?” Madison asked in reply, laughing halfheartedly. “Why are you asking what I think?”

“Because,” Mom said, squeezing Madison’s hands a little harder, “I care what you think. And you have a sixth sense about this stuff.”

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