Caught in the Web (6 page)

“Goal!”

The ball flew right into the goal net. She was a star! The Mallards’ goalie collapsed into the mud. She looked madder than mad.

“Woooooooo!” Aimee jumped up and started to do a wave, only no one else followed. This time Madison didn’t care.

By the time the soccer game ended, the Rangers were the hands-down winners with a score of 2-0. Fiona and another wing named Daisy Espinoza had scored the game-winning goals. Teammates slapped each other’s backs and said, “Good game, good game, good game.” Madison could hear them from where she was sitting. This victory meant the team would go on to the district championships, the first time in twelve years for Far Hills.

Madison and Aimee hurried down the bleachers to find Fiona.

“You won the game!” Madison said the moment she spied her soccer star friend.

“Thanks for coming,” Fiona said. Her blue-and-white shirt was soaked through. “Hey, you guys, have you seen my mother? She was supposed to come, too.”

“Great job!” Mrs. Waters said, appearing out of nowhere. She hugged Fiona tight. Chet was right behind, ready to give his sister a high five.

Everyone was shivering and laughing at the same time. The coach came up to congratulate Mrs. Waters on her daughter’s success.

“Nice kicking,” Chet said.

Fiona couldn’t stop grinning. She looked so happy doing what she did best. It was the same look Aimee had after dance recitals.

“So are you girls coming to our Halloween sleepover tomorrow?” Mrs. Waters asked.

Chet laughed. “Girl party! Maybe I should invite some guys over, Ma.”

“Chet Waters!” Mrs. Waters said. “Why don’t you just go help Fiona get her stuff over to the car?”

“He’s not going to be there.” Fiona leaned in to whisper to Aimee and Madison. “My brother is such a geek.”

“We’re definitely coming.” Aimee grinned. “I would never miss a sleepover. It’s really nice of you to have us over, Mrs. Waters. Thank you.”

“I can’t wait,” Madison said. “Hope it’s not a dark and stormy night or anything like that.”

“Like today!” Mrs. Waters laughed.

Madison looked upward and drops pelted down onto her face. She stuck out her tongue and swallowed a little bit of rain, cool and warm at the same time.

“Why don’t I give you girls a ride home?” Mrs. Waters said, trying in vain to hold her umbrella out over Madison and Aimee. The rain was coming down harder now. Everyone ran to the Waterses’ minivan.

Madison saw Hart again as she was running, but he didn’t see her. Actually, she saw Egg and Drew standing there, too, but she didn’t wave like she’d done with Fiona earlier in the afternoon. One non-returned wave was enough for one day. It would be twice as mortifying if Hart was the one who didn’t wave back.

“Race ya!” Aimee said to Fiona as they approached the minivan. She leaped over a puddle gracefully, as only a dancer could.

“Last one there is a rotten—” Fiona was already halfway to the car.

Madison stayed back and walked more slowly alongside Mrs. Waters. She was afraid that if she ran, she might fall and land right on her wet behind, right in the middle of the deepest puddle.

Madison didn’t want to risk any more embarrassing episodes around Hart Jones—or anyone else.

After a Chinese takeout dinner with Mom, Madison logged on to TweenBlurt.com home page. The writing contest deadline was fast approaching, and she needed to get some work done on her story. If only she had some ideas.

Enter the Caught in the Web Contest TODAY!


First Prize: Your Story on the Web plus a mystery game (valued at $25)!


The site flashed brighter and faster than she’d remembered. Fortunately the contest deadline had been extended by a couple of days. That made her breathe easier. It gave her more time to make her story scary. She needed all the time she could get.

While online, her Insta-Message box blinked. It was Bigwheels!

They met in GOFISHY, their favorite chat room.

: Ur online!


: Didja get my EMSG?


: Y


: ggg


: Howz dance comitee


: committee (sorry)


: ok. SHE’S still around but whatever


: who?


: IVY MY ENEMY


: IC


: :>(


: Howz Hart?


: He’s :-9


: I wish I had a BF


: Wait a minute, he’s NO


WAY my BF


: N e way, I have to forget him, I think my chances are like NONE


: Don’t say that! I’ve never met you F2F but I bet ur cool and pretty


: Whatever—he likes HER I know


: Other fish in the sea then


: Like on TweenBlurt? LOL


: ;-]


: Are you entering that contest on the home page of this site


: Huh?


: CAUGHT IN THE WEB


: No u asked me that already


: Oh I am


: What’s ur story gonna be? I can’t write stories only poems I think should I write a poem?


: I want to write something scary


: Why don’t you write about that GIRL who’s ur enemy @ school she sounds scary


: Good idea!!! Or I could write about my life … LOL


: Yeah IMO real life is the scariest thing


: :-0


: Good nite


: Sleep tight!


: *poof*


“Y
OU WANT GRAVY ON
that?” the lunch lady, Gilda Z, asked, ladle in one hand and giant fork in the other.

Madison stared down at her tray. Was this mystery meat moving?

Gilda slopped on gravy. Most landed on the tray, not the plate. “Next!” she cried.

Madison moved along. She peered over her shoulder and saw Hart standing a few kids back. He was peeling a banana. For a split second, she pretended not to notice him. But it was too late.

“Hey, Finnster!” he called out. He’d spotted her. Even though she suddenly felt nervous to talk to him, she also felt relieved to hear his nickname for her.

“Hart? H-h-h-hey,” Madison replied. Her lips quivered like Jell-O. Crushes can make a person speak gibberish sometimes. Madison was so crushed out.

“What’s on the menu today?” Hart asked. He glanced down at Madison’s plate. “Whoa, that meat loaf looks sick.”

Madison’s helping of meat loaf didn’t look like real meat because it was absolutely the wrong color. The gravy didn’t help. Gray-vee. It had a weird brown crust, too.

“Oh … not so bad with ketchup, maybe?” Madison smiled nervously. She wanted to say the right things in front of Hart. But all she could do was defend her lunch.

Hart made a loud “yeeeeech” noise. “You have more guts than me, Finnster. I’m having a bologna sandwich today.” He cut ahead and moved down the line.

For dessert, Madison grabbed a cupcake with orange frosting. It was decorated like a jack-o-lantern on the top with chocolate chips for eyes. She asked Hart if he wanted one, too. He didn’t.

“Um … do you want to sit at our table in the back?” Madison asked. She tried to say it casually, but it came out kind of forced. “Sit. Table. The orange one.” She gestured like an orangutan who had just learned language.

Hart shrugged. “Yeah. Egg’s there already. I can see him. Sure.”

She followed him to the back of the cafeteria, past the table where Poison Ivy and her drones were sitting.

“Hey, Hart,” Ivy said.

He gave Ivy one of those guy nods and kept right on walking. She looked surprised. So was Madison.

Madison held her breath. She didn’t want to do anything stupid like burst into a merry chorus of “nah-nah-nah-nah-nahs.” She didn’t dare look back.

When they reached the orange table, Hart stuck out his hand and Egg slapped it. The table was three-quarters full: Egg, Drew, Aimee, Fiona, Chet, and a few floaters at the other end. Hart squeezed in at the opposite end from Madison. Sadly, there would be no accidental knee knocking over lunch.

“How could you get that meat loaf, Maddie?” Aimee asked as soon as Madison had put down her tray. “It looks dead.”

Everyone else leaned in to look. Apparently no one had gotten the lunch selection except for Madison.

“Do you even know what’s in that?” Aimee stuck out her tongue. “I thought you liked animals.”

“I didn’t really think about it,” Madison said, sticking her fork in it. The fork stood straight up. She threw a napkin over the whole thing. “I’ll just eat yogurt, then.”

Hart and Chet were laughing. Madison hoped it wasn’t at her. She opened the yogurt container.

“Did you see the new posters for the Halloween dance?” Fiona asked. “I am so excited. Señora is calling it Cobwebs and Creeps.”

“What is that supposed to be? Our theme?” Madison asked aloud. “I didn’t know we had a theme.”

“That’s because you’re too busy getting gross loaf,” Egg said. Drew snort-laughed and the rest of the boys started laughing, too.

“Who’s going dressed as what for Halloween?” Aimee asked the table.

Egg grinned. “A rapper. Totally.”

“You should go as Jimmie J, Egg,” Hart said. “Ladies’ man.”

Jimmie J was a heartthrob from a popular boy band. Madison never understood why he made girls swoon. He had such hairy arms.

“Why stop at Jimmie J, Egg? You should go as the
whole
band,” Aimee teased. “But then again, you can’t sing at all, so … maybe not …”

“Not!” Egg chuckled. “Very funny, Aim.”

“Is everyone going trick or treating this year?” Chet asked. “Fiona and I always went when we lived in California, but I thought maybe this year was the year when we stopped. …”

“Stopped? Why wouldn’t we go?” Drew said quickly.

Egg grinned. “Yeah. Somewhere out there is a bucket of candy with my name on it.”

“I want
lots
of candy,” Fiona declared. “Last year I had an entire trashbagful of candy and it lasted through February,” Hart said. “February! It’s my own personal record.”

“Man, I ate all my candy in only two days,” Egg said. “And then I was dog sick for like a week.”

Madison nodded. “I remember.”

“I hate it when candy gets stale,” Aimee complained. “I had to throw most of my candy out.”

“What are you talking about, Aimee? You don’t even eat candy,” Drew said.

Aimee shrugged and took a bite of carrot.

“Don’t you guys think we’re a little old to go trick-or-treating?” Madison said. “I mean, I don’t wanna sound like I’m a—”

“PARTY POOPER!” Egg yelled.

Aimee slapped Egg’s shoulder. “I’m with you, Maddie,” she said.

“Hey! I like trick-or-treating,” Fiona said. “We’re not too old!”

“Are you saying we have to stop trick-or-treating just because we’re in junior high?” Egg said. “I intend to do it for as long as I possibly can. And after that, even.”

“We have to wear costumes for the Halloween dance. Why not use ’em again to get good candy?” Drew said.

“Hey, know what? If I can’t be a rapper, I wanna dress up like a mummy,” Egg said. “For my costume, I mean. For the dance.”

“A mummy is
in
a wrapper. That’s practically the same thing, right?” Drew laughed at his own lame joke.

“What if we all went trick-or-treating together?” Chet said. “Maybe we could go as a TV family or something. Like the Simpsons.”

“I love them!” Madison said enthusiastically.

“What did you dress up as last year, Maddie?” Drew asked.

Madison thought for a moment. “I dunno,” she mumbled.

Dressing up for Halloween always stressed out Madison.

“I think I’m going to dress up as a boxer this year,” Chet said. “Or a martian. Yeah. Something freaky.”

Fiona groaned. “You would.”

“I’m going to go to the dance as a ballerina,” Aimee said. She picked at a lettuce leaf on her plate. Aimee was becoming the kind of person who counted peas before she ate them.

“Ballerina? Like that’s a big surprise.” Egg made a face.

“You should go as a wizard,” Drew said to Hart. “You have the cape and hat from
The Wiz,
right?”

“Yeah, I do,” Hart said. “Maybe I should go as a wizard.”

“You were great as the wizard,” Fiona said. “And you could do tricks at the dance. You’re really good at tricks, Hart.”

Egg sneered. “Magic, shmagic. I’m gonna be a ninja. What about you, Fiona?”

“I wanna be a hula dancer.”

“Hula girl, whoa!” Egg teased. “You got a grass skirt?”

Fiona smiled at him and tilted her head slightly to the side. She’d been crushing on him for weeks, so she didn’t mind his teasing one bit.

“Why don’t you lend her
your
grass skirt, Egg!” Chet said, laughing.

Egg made a face.

“Remember when Egg dressed up like a doctor for Halloween?” Aimee asked the table.

Madison rolled her eyes. “That was like a million Halloweens ago—”

“When we were
six
—” Aimee said.

“And Egg got into a yelling match with these nasty kids walking down the street and—”

“Yeah, yeah, and I got picked off by an egg on the Fourth Street overpass.” Egg shook his head. “Get to the point, Maddie. I got hit with an egg, so that’s when you started calling me Egg. Thanks a lot.”

“At least it wasn’t toilet paper.” Hart laughed. “T.P. would be a worse nickname.”

The table snickered.

Madison looked up at the lunchroom clock. The bell was about to sound. She saw Ivy getting up a few tables away, probably heading for the girls’ bathroom. Ivy looked right over at Madison and the rest of the orange table with a mean, hard stare. Madison was glad that Hart wasn’t watching.