Three's a Crowd (From the Files of Madison Finn, 16) (11 page)

At least, they tried to coexist.

“Could you share the lab assignments with me?” Madison asked when she took her assigned seat at Ivy’s left.

“What assignments are you talking about?” Ivy snapped.

“I missed a couple of labs and some homework when I was sick last week….” Madison said.

Ivy held her hand up in front of her face like a shield. “So? And stay away from me. I don’t want to get sick.”

“I’m not sick anymore,” Madison said.

“Whatever,” Ivy said.

“Ivy, can I please read your notes? You
are
my partner,” Madison insisted.

“You know I don’t take notes,” Ivy said. “I don’t have to help you.”

“Yes, you do….” Madison sighed and gave up. She wanted to take Ivy’s notebook and hurl it across the room … or better yet, take Ivy and hurl
her
across the room. But she took a deep breath instead.

On the other side of the room, Hart waved. Madison smiled back.

She could ask Hart for his notebook. Madison had never read anything Hart wrote down in class, but he did raise his hand a lot, and Madison assumed he was a strong science student. Egg teased him once with the nickname Smart Hart.

At the end of class, Madison decided to ask Mr. Danehy directly about makeup work. He handed Madison copies of the previous week’s lab on germs.

“Miss Finn, I appreciate your following up on this, but I really think you should work with another student, not just with me,” Mr. Danehy said. “Why don’t you talk to Nancy Powers? She’s an excellent student. Or Beezie Webster? Or maybe Hart Jones?”

Madison gulped.

Hart?
Her teacher was telling her to work on questions with Hart? What did that mean? Was that some kind of sign?

Once outside of the classroom, Madison raced to her locker. She had only a few moments to grab her books for history class. There was a quiz review on the American Revolution, and she didn’t want to miss it.

“Madison?”

Madison turned to see who was saying her name. It was Josh Turner. In person.

“I thought that was you,” Josh said. “I didn’t recognize you without the windowpane. Uh … that’s a joke. A bad joke, but who cares?”

“Oh,” Madison said. Her tongue was officially tied.

“I hope you weren’t freaked by those dumb signs the other night. I was just playing,” Josh said, brushing the hair away from his face.

“Oh, that’s okay,” Madison said.

“Yeah, well … I have class. See you around,” Josh said.

“See you through the window!” Madison chirped.

Josh laughed. “Sure.”

Madison fanned herself with a notebook. She felt as though the blood had stopped pumping through her veins. Her whole body was in a state of quasi-shock. Josh looked even cuter walking away than he had up close.

See you around.

Madison turned back to lock her locker. But she wasn’t alone.

“Finnster!”

Madison jumped. “Hart, you scared me.”

“I was trying to say hello in science, but then class started and …”

“I was so focused on catching up on work I missed when I was sick….” Madison said.

“Oh, that’s okay,” Hart said as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Um … was that Josh Turner you were just talking to?” he asked.

Madison nodded. “Yeah. He’s my neighbor, you know.”

“I know,” Hart said. “I was there the other day on the porch.”

“Of course,” Madison said. “Look, can we talk later? I really have to run.”

“Later?” Hart nodded. “No prob. Later.”

But Madison didn’t connect with Hart later. At lunch, even though Hart had an empty seat next to him at the regular orange table, Madison sat with Lindsay. They talked girl talk, about Fiona’s being sick again and about the failure of their web project to get off the ground. The flu had them all seriously sidetracked. A few times during lunch, Madison glanced over at Hart, just to see if he were looking. But Hart just joked with Egg and the others as he did every day. He didn’t look her way once.

“Are you going to say anything to him?” Lindsay whispered at the end of lunch.

“Who?” Madison asked.

“Maddie!” Lindsay smirked. She tilted her head in Hart’s direction to indicate him without saying his name out loud. Madison pretended to ignore her.

Lindsay got the point and promised to shut up about Hart and other boys. On the way out of the cafeteria, however, as they headed up to the media lab, Lindsay broke her promise.

“Look!” Lindsay pointed down the hall. “It’s the other one!”

Madison nudged Lindsay hard with her elbow. “Shhhhh!” Madison said. “Someone might hear you! I am so embarrassed.”

Madison stared. Josh was standing there with a few friends. She watched as he walked down the hall. The truth was that Josh didn’t really walk—he swaggered. His arms swung in perfect motion, like two alternating pendulums.

How had she never noticed him before? How had this ninth grader been drifting around FHJH for the whole school year so far
and
living next door to Madison without their orbits crossing?

When Josh turned toward the gymnasium and student lounge, Madison and Lindsay veered off toward the media lab. They dumped their bags at a computer terminal in the back.

“Let’s send Fiona an e-mail,” Lindsay suggested. “I told her I would.”

“Great idea!” Madison said.

Lindsay turned on the computer and logged on to the e-mail program.

From: LuvNstuff


To: Wetwinz


Subject: MORE GOSSIP 4 U


Date: Mon 29 Sept 1:02 PM


Fiona! Maddie & I are in the media lab @ school and we had to write. HOW ARE YOU? I can’t believe Chet made u sick all over again. N e way I have major gossip


“Wait! Don’t tell her about Josh,” Madison said. “Or Hart. I really
don’t
want to talk about boys.”

“You don’t want to talk about Josh? Why not?” Lindsay asked. “That’s the juicy stuff. What’s your problem?”

“Please,” Madison insisted. “I know if we tell her anything she’ll tell Egg. I just don’t want everyone to know my secrets, especially not Egg. He’s the world’s biggest blabbermouth….”

Madison felt bad keeping something hidden from one of her BFFs. But she was feeling confused enough about boys just then without gossip or rumors messing it up. Plus, she was worried about writing anything down on a school computer. What if someone who used the computer after her were to read what she wrote?

Lindsay’s fingers froze over the keyboard. “Okay, so if I can’t tell Fiona the best gossip about you, then what do I write?” she asked.

“Just tell her we’re working on the optical illusions webpage.”

“Fine,” Lindsay said. She kept typing.

Madison and I were talking about the optical illusions project. We miss you lots.


“What else am I supposed to write about?” Lindsay asked.

“Just say … we found a few books … and a cool website,” Madison suggested. “I don’t know. Make something up. She won’t know the difference.”

Lindsay typed some more.

Have u done n e work on it yet? Maddie sez she found a website but I have to admit that I didn’t do n e work and I’m the only one of us who isn’t sick! It’s a good thing there’s an extension. E us l8r?


Lindsay signed the e-mail and hit
SEND.
“That was so lame,” she said.

Feeling guilty about not having done any work, they took an hour to surf the web for ideas. Madison had a little bit of a headache (a leftover from being sick), and she was still coughing, but it was fun to be back at school, working and hanging out with her friends.

Although they had agreed to meet Aimee up in the media lab during the free period, Aimee never showed up. Madison figured that Aimee had a dance meeting or a study hall she’d forgotten. Usually Fiona was a space case, but being sick was making all of them a little absentminded this week.

Lindsay plugged the words
optical illusion
into a search engine. It turned up brainteasers, checkerboard shadows, and various geometric designs. One picture showed the face of an old woman, which turned into an Eskimo in the blink of an eye. Many webpages were devoted to M. C. Escher, an artist who drew, among other things, pictures of staircases that led nowhere. Another website was devoted entirely to shape and color illusions that quitters could use as patterns for their quilts.

There was more than enough for them to use there—the hard part would be figuring out what
not
to use. Lindsay and Madison each took notes for their webpage. Madison saved the web addresses with art on them so she could find images to post later.

Gramma Helen was waiting up with dinner when Madison got home from school. The first thing Gramma did was reach out to touch Madison’s forehead.

“Not too warm,” Gramma said, hugging Madison. “And how’s the cough?”

“It’s still there,” Madison said, groaning.

“I could have picked you up at school, you know,” Gramma said.

“I know,” Madison replied. “I needed to stay late to work on this web project I’m doing with my friends.”

“Your mother called,” Gramma said.

“Is she coming home?” Madison asked.

“Tomorrow, I think,” Gramma said. “She’s calling back with the times of her flights and all that. I told her we were getting along famously….”

“Of course!” Madison giggled. “Just the two of us and not all three of us, right?”

“Two’s company….”

“Three’s a crowd!” Madison joked.

“Oh, by the way, I saw that boy next door again,” Gramma said. “We walked the dogs together this afternoon. He’s a nice boy. Phin loves his dog. I think he said her name was Poodle or something like that.”

“You know his dog’s
name
?” Madison pulled off her jacket and threw her stuff down in the hallway. “You went for a walk with him?”

She stood there, her mouth wide open.

She prayed that Gramma Helen hadn’t said anything embarrassing—like, “my granddaughter thinks you’re super duper cute!”

Madison wondered why it wasn’t
she
who had walked the dog that day. She knew the answer.

Murphy’s Law.

“I made soup again tonight,” Gramma said. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Madison shook her head. She was in too much shock over Gramma’s news to care about having soup for the umpteenth time already that week.

“I was thinking. Let’s try some knitting tonight,” Gramma suggested. “While you were at school today, I took a trip down to Far Hills Shoppes and got some yarn. You were always asking me to show you how to knit. We can make something for your mother. It’s supposed to be a cold winter!”

Madison thought it was a good idea. Knitting was another way she could bond with Gramma. And it would be nice to make something for Mom.

Madison really missed Mom.

As she helped Gramma heat up the dinner, Madison’s thoughts kept taking a wide detour. It was hard to think about knitting or homework or lasagna when she had Josh on the brain. She and he definitely had a connection … a spark … a
something.
Madison was sure of it.

She wondered if Josh would flash any signs in his window that night.

T
UESDAY AFTERNOON, AFTER TURNING
in to Blueberry Street on the walk home from school, Madison spotted Josh. He was way ahead of her, but Madison didn’t think. She just started running.

“Hello!” Madison gasped when she caught up to him.

Josh whirled around. “Whoa. Hello, yourself. I didn’t hear you.”

Madison tried hard to keep from panting, but her mouth was dry from running so fast. She wiped her forehead and tried to look cool.

“Are you okay?” Josh asked. “You’re purple.”

“Oh, I have asthma,” Madison said. It was a strange lie, but it sounded a lot better than, “Oh, I was just running to catch up to you.”

“So, what’s up?” Josh asked. He kept walking, and Madison could barely keep up with his pace after her long run. She wanted him to slow down so they would have time to talk before reaching their houses.

“What’s up? Nothing much,” Madison said, gulping air. “Don’t you think it’s funny how we never saw each other before last week?”

“Not really,” Josh said. “I saw you a lot.”

“You did?” Madison asked. She almost stopped in her tracks when he said that.

He really had noticed her. A lot.

“Sure, I saw you,” Josh said simply, staring straight ahead.

Madison checked her palms. They were definitely sweating.

She and Josh kept walking.

Josh told her about an upcoming hockey meet. Madison mentioned the class webpage project. They talked about the weather, dogs, and Principal Bernard’s ugly ties.

We have so much in common, Madison thought happily. She caught herself staring up at Josh’s round, brown eyes. He had longer eyelashes than Madison did.

“This is me,” Josh said as they passed in front of his family’s home. “See you around. I have to walk Cuddles.”

“Who?”

“My poodle,” Josh said.

Madison grinned. She wanted to say something smart or funny, but no words came out. Josh was halfway down the path to his front door before she managed to wave.

She was thinking so hard about Josh that Madison almost didn’t notice Mom’s briefcase in the front hall.

“Mom?” Madison cried out. “Are you home?”

Gramma appeared at the doorway to the kitchen, drying a bowl.

“She’s not here,” Gramma said.

“What? But her stuff is right here—” Madison cut herself off and sat down on the wooden chair in the hallway. “She couldn’t wait to go out again? She knew I was coming home today to see her….”

“I know,” Gramma said, stroking the top of Madison’s head. “I told her you would be upset. …”

“I can’t believe this….” Madison felt her eyes tear up.

“It’s okay, Maddie—” Gramma tried to say.

“How?” Madison asked. “How is it okay?”

Gramma shook her head. “Maddie, I know you wish your mother could be here all the time for you. But your mother … she’s got a lot to juggle. We have to be understanding of that.”