Picture-Perfect (From the Files of Madison Finn, 8) (7 page)

S
UNDAY MORNING STARTED WITH
a thud.

Phin jumped up on Madison’s bed and knocked her alarm clock off the nightstand.

“Rowrooooo!” he wailed, pug tail wagging. “Rowroooooooo!”

Madison bolted up in bed and headed for the bathroom, ignoring the clock pieces on the floor.

The zit was still there this morning, Madison noticed, grimacing. It was getting one of those little volcano tops to it, as if it would explode at any moment.

She wanted to pop it, but didn’t. Having a hole in her face would be a far worse fate than having a volcano zit.

“At least no one has to see me today,” Madison told her bathroom-mirror reflection.

That was some consolation.

If Sundays weren’t reserved for baseball games or shopping, Madison would often spend them with Mom cleaning up around the house and doing other chores. Every since the Big D (divorce), the two of them had teamed up to keep the big house straightened up. Sometimes Mom would get a cleaning service in to steam the carpets and do the windows, but mostly she and Madison scrubbed and shined together. Now that spring was really here, there was a lot of cleaning to be done.

For housework, Madison wore her scrubbiest clothes: an old bandanna wrapped around her hair (which hadn’t been washed now in two days), a goofy T-shirt with a rip in it, rainbow socks she’d had since fifth grade, and sweatpants that were two sizes too big and drooped down on her hips.

She was comfortable, that was what mattered. Or at least that’s what she told herself.

“Hey, Mom,” Madison asked as she went into the kitchen looking for some cereal and orange juice. “Can you tell I have a zit on my head?”

Mom peered up close into Madison’s face. “You mean the one up there? Yes, it’s a zit. But it’s almost gone. And it’s very small, actually.”

“Quit lying to make me feel better,” Madison said. “It’s twice as big as a pea, isn’t it? It’s huge. How can I go to the concert looking like this?”

“Maddie, stop,” Mom said. “What are you worrying about
that
for? Aren’t you supposed to be all excited today? The concert is coming up in only a few days, you have a new outfit—”

“I know! I am excited!” Madison blurted. “But this!”

“Just quit this obsession with the zit, honey bear. You’re a beautiful girl….”

Ding-dong.

“Okay,” Madison said as she shuffled into the living room. “I’ll quit obsessing. I’m a beautiful girl. See?”

Madison posed and pranced her way over to the front door. Smiling, she turned the lock without even thinking.

“Maddie?” the boy behind the door said as she flung it open.

Madison almost keeled over.

Hart Jones was standing there. Egg and Drew were right behind him.

She reached for the drawstring on her sweatpants and grabbed for the bandanna that was wrapped on her head.

“Hart?” she whispered. “Wha-wha-what are you doing here?”

Hart smiled wide. “Well, we just came by to see if you—”

“Nice outfit, Maddie!” Egg blurted. He burst into laughter.

Then Drew snorted.

Hart couldn’t help but chuckle, too.

Madison felt her face, neck, and chest get hot. Her heart started to pound like a hammer. A drop of sweat traced its way down her back.

“I … um … look … I have to …” Madison stammered.

“Hey, Maddie, just chill out,” Egg said.

“Yeah, Maddie,” Drew said, echoing his friend.

“Look,” Egg continued, pushing in front of Hart. “We’re meeting Fiona and Chet over by the baseball field later for a game. Aim has dance practice, I guess. She didn’t want to come. So we came by to get you.”

“Baseball?” Madison said. “Today?”

“Yeah,” Hart said, smiling. “Do you want to come with us?”

Madison’s heart was still beating fast. She wanted to run, but her feet were glued to the hall floor.

“I can’t play baseball—” she blurted.

“Why not?” Egg asked. “Just put on some sneakers and let’s go.”

Madison glanced down at her rainbow sock toes and her T-shirt, which just happened to have a splotch of breakfast cereal right on the front. She could feel her zit growing as she stood in the doorway. She could
feel
her dirty hair.

Help.

“I have to … have to help my mom with some work,” Madison said, making up a quick excuse. “She’s working on this really big film project and she needs my help. Sorry.”

“Are you sure you can’t come with us?” Hart asked. “I think it’s going to be fun. Haven’t seen you around much in school these days …” His voice trailed off.

“Nope, can’t do it,” Madison said. “Gotta run.” She started to push the door shut, right in the boys’ faces.

Egg pushed back. “If you change your mind, we’ll be down at the far fields, okay? Maddie?”

“Yeah, sure,” she said. “Okay. See ya.”

“Bye!” Hart said, even after the door had been shut.

Madison peeped through the peephole. She should have looked through that first so she could have avoided the whole confrontation in the first place.

Egg, Drew, and Hart walked away slowly, tossing the baseball. Hart turned back once to look at the door. Madison wondered what he was thinking when he did that. Did he forget to say something? Was he still thinking about her ugly outfit? Was he deciding right there that he would never, ever speak to Madison Francesca Finn again?

Madison’s entire body was covered in sweat by now. She felt embarrassment wrapped around her like a winter coat that she wanted off … NOW! Madison ran into the downstairs bathroom and collapsed onto the side of the tub.

That’s when the tears came. Floods of them.

“Maddie?” Mom said, knocking at the door a few moments later. “Who was that? What happened? Honey bear, are you okay?”

Sniffling, Madison got up and opened the bathroom door. Her kerchief was askew, her sweatpants were falling down, and her face was blotchier than blotchy from crying.

“Maddie!” Mom said, alarmed. “What on earth happened—” She ran cool water and dabbed Madison’s face with a cloth.

“Hart … Egg … Baseball … Door …” Madison choked on the words.

“Honey!” Mom said in her softest voice. “Let’s go sit down. What’s going on?”

“Why is my life falling apart?” Madison asked her mom.

“Wait a minute,” Mom said. “Last week we were all concerned about this Nikki concert. Now you’re going, and you’re sitting in the front row. That’s like a dream come true. Why the tears?”

“Boys, Mom,” Madison said. “I don’t understand them. I’m not pretty enough.”

“Where is all this coming from?” Mom asked.

Madison sniffled some more. “Aimee is acting so strange, too. I don’t know why, but things just don’t feel right. Not even with front-row seats.”

“I spoke with Aimee’s Mom about her schedule—and not eating yesterday at the food court. She said that we shouldn’t worry. Aimee’s just nervous about performing. Aimee was never a big eater, anyway.”

“Mom, it’s more than that,” Madison said, wiping her nose. “Ask Fiona. It’s like Aimee isn’t herself these days. I can’t explain it. She has this weird faroff look. Didn’t you see it?”

Mom thought for a moment. “Yes, I did. Maybe you should talk to her.”

“I can’t,” Madison said. “She doesn’t like talking. She gets all angry at me.”

“That’s not like Aimee,” Mom said.

“Maybe it’ll all go away when the concert comes,” Madison said. “And we’ll be three happy BFFs again. I just don’t understand what’s wrong. Maybe it was something I said or did?”

“I’m sure you’re not responsible,” Mom said, rubbing Madison’s back. “You’ll think of something to say. I know you will. You and Aimee have been friends for too long to let a few bad moods get in the way of your friendship.”

“I guess,” Madison said, readjusting her bandanna and blowing her nose.

“You know, I can give you some cover-up for that blemish,” Mom said. “That way you won’t have to worry about it when you have dinner with Dad tonight.”

Madison grinned. “That would be great,” she said.

“Hello, WKBM fans! Today we’re playing all Nikki all the time! And now, let’s hear her number-one hit single, ‘Sugar-Sweet, Like You.’”

Madison turned up the volume on her radio, which she’d fixed after the morning incident. She sang along with Nikki, shouting as loudly as she could. “Sugar-sweet! Sugar-sweet!”

She and Mom had spent the last few hours picking up the downstairs, gathering papers, dusting, vacuuming, and straightening closets. Now Madison was watering all the indoor plants while Mom cleaned the bathroom.

After the basic house chores were completed, Madison was happy to climb into the shower and wash her hair. She used all-natural lavender shampoo Mrs. Gillespie had given to Madison once for her birthday. Madison didn’t use it that often, because she saved it for special occasions or times when she needed to feel special. Like now.

After showering, she pulled on a black dress from her closet. It had little yellow flowers on the fabric and was warm enough so she didn’t have to wear a jacket. Madison wondered how she could possibly be feeling bad when spring was in the air. Spring was supposed to be like an injection of joy, with warm air and flowers and little bunnies hopping across the fields. So why did it feel like one big yuck?

She wrapped her hair in a towel and sat back down at her desk, booting up her laptop. This was one of those times when Madison had come to depend on one person above all others: her keypal.

Madison opened her e-mailbox and hit
NEW.

From: MadFinn


To: Bigwheels


Subject: HELP!!!


Date: Sun 19 May 2:11 PM


I miss you! My life is falling apart. What am I supposed to do? Where r u?


I have a zit the size of a walnut on my head and it shows no signs of letting up.


My BFF Aimee is an alien. Well, not really, but she’s acting weird these days. Everyone thinks so. I’m really worried about her. I think maybe she has anorexia or something. We talked about that last year in health class. I know that is like superserious, but it’s true—she never eats food anymore and she looks too skinny. It’s so weird to think anyone could be TOO skinny, but she is. She was never like this before. I don’t understand what happened.


Did I also mention that I am probably never going to go on a real date with Hart either, since he saw me today looking soooo ugly. I’ll be surprised if he ever talks to me again. Plus, I think he likes this OTHER girl better than me, and she is in my art class and she is a supersnob so I don’t have a chance. Girls like her always get their way


The only good thing—and it is a VERY VERY good thing—of course, is the Nikki concert. I think my whole life is gearing up for that one moment. Is that dumb? I have no idea what to wear, but whatever. I’ll figure it out at the last minute like I always do.


Do you have any advice for me? You are so good at figuring stuff out. What’s new in ur world?


Yours till the life lines,


MadFinn


After hitting
SEND,
Madison noticed that there was an e-mail already waiting inside her mailbox, too. It was from Dad. She panicked for a split second, fearing that Dad might cancel. He did that sometimes.

But he was just checking in. He’d sent his e-mail to her that morning.

From: JeffFinn


To: MadFinn


Subject: Dinner.


Date: Sun 19 May 9:31 AM


Dinner is still on for tonight. I think we’re going to add a little surprise too—a baseball game, with Stephanie. It’s a local league playing in the next town over. I got us tickets for this night game. We can hang out and have fun. Wear your jeans, hon. I’ll be over to pick you up around five o’clock.


Love, Dad


Madison sighed. She stood up, walked into the bathroom off the hall, and stared into the mirror.

“I can’t believe I have to change again,” Madison said to her own reflection. “I’m so sick of changing.”

She pulled off the black dress and grabbed a pair of faded jeans.

Then she applied a little more of Mom’s zit cover-up just to be safe.

Dad would be over at any moment.

I
N THE CAR ON
the way to the baseball game, Dad and Stephanie listened eagerly while Madison recounted the entire concert ticket-winning experience.

“Sounds like you’ve been having a busy week,” Dad joked.

“And this is your first concert?” Stephanie asked.

Madison nodded and leaned into the front seat a bit so she didn’t have to yell when she spoke. “Actually, it’s the first concert for all of us.”

“How exciting,” Stephanie said. “I remember my first concert, don’t you, Jeff?”

“Oh yeah, I went to see the Rolling Stones,” Dad said. “Those were fun times.”

“I can’t imagine you at a concert, Dad,” Madison said.

“I was probably sixteen or so when I went to see the Cure,” Stephanie remembered.

“Does your mother approve of this whole concert thing?” Dad asked. He sounded a little concerned. “You are being chaperoned?”

Madison reassured him. “DAD!” she said. “Of course! We have it all planned. Aimee’s brother Roger is taking us.”

“Is he responsible enough?” Dad asked.

“Jeff, will you just let her enjoy this? Stop worrying!” Stephanie said.

She turned around to face the backseat and grinned.

“Next time you’re looking for a chaperone, Maddie, you should call me!” Stephanie said. “I love Nikki’s music.”

Madison grinned back. “Yeah, that would have been cool. I’ll remember that for next time.”

They pulled up to the West Lake ballpark just as everyone else did. Guys in baseball caps were out directing the traffic.

Madison hadn’t known what to expect, but the “stadium” consisted of nothing more than a regular baseball field with bleachers on two sides. Huge lights on towers cast a glow around the field and parking lots. A funny-looking man working a frankfurter-shaped food cart by the entrance to the field cried out, “Soda! DOGS!”