Keep It Real (From the Files of Madison Finn, 19) (2 page)

Chet made his way over to Madison’s desk and searched her bulletin board for something he could make a joke about. He was always looking to make fun of something or someone. Drew and Egg wasted no time. They sat at Madison’s desk chair, placed their root-beer cans on the desk, and immediately found the online version of the game.

A screen flashed orange and red. An image of flames appeared and then quickly formed the words
Disaster Zone.
Everything flashed bright yellow, and in the background was the sound of loud sirens. Then another screen popped up that read
ARE YOU IN? CLICK HERE TO BEGIN GAME.
Underneath the words was a single, flickering flame.

Hart went over behind the other guys as they clicked on the flame. The whole screen went white with a sizzling flash. The boys hooted.

Madison went over to the bed to sprawl out next to Fiona, but she stopped herself.

Oh, no! she thought, remembering her journaling page. Was it still on the computer screen? Had Egg deleted it? Had he
read
it? She quickly hopped off the bed and raced over to her desk, elbowing her way into the huddle of guys.

“Wait, wait,” Madison said. “I have something…on the…computer…” Madison pressed the
ESCAPE
key. The screen went blank.

“Huh? What happened?” Drew asked in a bewildered tone.

Egg’s eyes opened wide. “Maddie!” he cried. He tried clicking a few keys, but the game would not restart. Madison couldn’t find her document, either.

“You killed it,” Chet said.

“I did not,” Madison said. “I didn’t kill anything.”

“What was so important that you had to destroy the game?” Egg asked, lightly punching Madison in the arm. He was only half serious, but his punch kind of hurt.

“Hey, Egg, this is
my
laptop!” Madison said, punching him back, harder.

“Walter!” Fiona said, jumping off the bed. “Maddie was working on her journal.”

“You mean that dorky assignment we got in school?” Chet asked.

“It is not dorky,” Madison said. “What is wrong with keeping a journal?”

“Writing in a notebook is so…Middle Ages,” Egg joked.

“What did you write about?” Drew asked Madison.

“I’m not telling you what I write in my journal!” Madison said.

“You’re right, Maddie,” Egg said. “A diary is private.”

Madison was shocked. Egg was rushing to her defense? He was usually the ringleader, the one who teased her mercilessly. Where was the crazy joke that he always delivered? His next words were even more shocking.

“Sorry, Maddie,” Egg said. “Guys, we should just chill out.”

As Madison picked her jaw up off the floor, she realized why Egg was acting contrite.
Fiona.
Duh.

Egg didn’t want to look dumb or pushy in front of the girl he really liked.

Fiona responded accordingly, batting her eyelashes, or at least that’s what Madison thought she saw. There was an awkward silence again.

“We should probably go,” Hart said, slouching forward, his hands still in his pockets.

“No, no. Don’t go,” Madison said quickly. “I mean, you don’t have to go. I like having you here. Phin likes your being here, too. I mean, he likes
all
of you being here…Why don’t we go on TweenBlurt or something?”

“Oh!” Egg’s face lit up. “Wait! Wait a minute! I know what we can do! Man, this is brilliant.”

“You and your brilliant ideas,” Chet moaned.

“What is it, Walter?” Fiona asked sweetly.

“Let me show you.”

As Egg clicked away, Madison prayed that his fingers wouldn’t slip and cause him to select one of her e-mail messages or open the secret folder on her desktop that held her files. She had visions of Hart standing there while a dozen different files carrying his name opened up.

Hart Jones


Hart (Continued)


Mr. & Mrs. Jones


The One


Him


Just like that, every detail about her crush would be on display for the world to see. And Hart would probably laugh so hard that his head would explode. This situation was getting a little too close for Maddie’s comfort.

Thankfully, Egg bypassed all of Madison’s private documents and headed right for TweenBlurt’s blog area. The screen went blue with tiny bubbles as the word
BLOGGERBLURT
appeared on a giant fish swimming toward them. The fish looked 3-D, a lot like the “Ask the Blowfish” fish that swam around on the fortune-telling area of the site.

Phin rubbed up against Madison’s leg. In the face of all of the distractions, he was demanding attention again. As Phinnie purred (because sometimes happy dogs purr, even louder than cats do), Madison read aloud the text that appeared on-screen.

Welcome to BLOGGERBLURT!


Here are some answers to your most important questions.


What’s
BLOGGERBLURT
about?


This site is where you can get FREE, fun, online diary pages that you update through your web browser. All you have to do is type the text you want into one of our more than 125 easy-to-use, cool design templates. Za-Zam!


How private is my diary?


You have the choice whether or not to list your diary in the member’s area. Click on “BloggerBlurt Members” for more information. To be extra safe, all areas on the site have password protection. Share your password only with good friends—or else.


“Hey, good friends,” Egg joked in a low voice. “The password is Disaster Zone.” He typed the words (without a space) into the computer in the box where it said to enter a password. His fingers danced over the keyboard. Madison wished she could type as fast as he could.

Seconds later, the screen blinked:
PASSWORD APPROVED
. Everyone stared at the flashing cursor.

“Now what?” Chet asked.

“Wait,” Egg said. “The home page will come up. It’s my official blog for the Disaster Zone video game. Can’t you see?”

Madison rolled her eyes. “Egg, it’s a blank page.”

“Good one, Egger!” Chet laughed out loud.

Drew snorted.

“Haven’t you ever heard of a work in progress?” Egg asked, sneering. As he closed the page with a loud grunt, Madison spotted an icon in the lower right-hand corner of her screen. Her missing journal page!

Before she could say anything, Egg clicked it.

Madison cringed. There was nothing she could do now.

“Gee, Maddie,” Drew said with a grin. “Is this what you were so worried about us seeing?”

“It’s a blank page, too!” Chet said, laughing again.

Madison glanced over at Fiona with a feeble smile and mouthed the word
phew
.

M
ADISON STUCK HER HAND
down into the bottom of her orange bag, but she couldn’t find a pen. She was hoping to take a few minutes before the start of science class to finish her homework. It was a biology work sheet, and she was supposed to fill in definitions for words like
DNA
,
RNA
, and
genome
. Naturally, she’d spent most of the night before writing in her journal instead.

Mr. Danehy stood up at the front of class, coughing. His eyes watered, and his nose was running. He had a clump of tissue in his hand. No one wanted to approach him—or even talk to him, not even Ivy (who had proclaimed that she had a crush on him once—Go figure!).

Nope. Mr. Danehy was grouchy enough on a
good
day. No one would risk his wrath on a day when he was
sick
.

With only moments before the second bell rang, Ivy squeezed herself onto her stool next to Madison at the lab table.

“Did you finish the homework?” Ivy asked. She snapped her mint gum, even though gum was against the rules in the classroom.

Madison didn’t answer. She knew that would irritate Ivy. And it did.

“Did you hear me?” Ivy said in a huff. “I asked you if—”

“I heard you,” Madison said. She didn’t need chewing gum to snap back at Ivy. “And I haven’t finished the homework, but even if I had, I wouldn’t share it with you.”

“You don’t have to be so nasty,” Ivy growled.

She muttered something else; Madison was pretty sure she had said, “You must have wicked PMS,” but Madison didn’t know how to respond, since she hadn’t actually gotten her period yet. Was it physically possible to have PMS before having started to get your period? And why was Madison the only girl in the seventh grade who hadn’t gotten hers?

Ivy flipped her red hair. It smelled like hair spray and some kind of perfume that made Madison’s nose itch.

“Fine,” Ivy said, snapping her gum again. “Be that way.” She reached into her own leather bag and pulled out a composition notebook.

Madison eyed the notebook carefully. It was Ivy’s journal for the class assignment. On the cover Ivy had applied a sticker that read: “Princess.” Madison knew she shouldn’t look, but she couldn’t help herself. She squinted to read the inscription next to the sticker.

Ivy turned the page.

Mr. Danehy crossed his arms, cleared his throat, and gazed at the class with watery eyes. He seemed to be sweating, too.

“Can we please put away our personal items? I have something important—” Mr. Danehy tried to finish his sentence but started coughing again and rushed out the door of the classroom. As the second bell rang, Mr. Danehy’s loud, hacking cough echoed up and down the corridor. Kids snickered. Madison was convinced that students in the next building could hear.

The whole time, Ivy kept writing in her journal as if she didn’t see or hear any of the commotion. Madison was tempted to glance at Ivy’s page again, but she resisted. She turned her head.

From across the room, Hart caught her eye. He had been talking to another kid at his lab table, but he smiled when he saw Madison look at him. She had never noticed how crooked Hart’s teeth were on top. How could she have never seen that? she wondered. She was seeing a lot of things from this angle, like the word “Sk8r” on his sneakers. She knew that that was Hart’s screen name.

Hart smiled again.

“Dis-as-ter zone,” Madison mouthed, tipping her head as if to indicate Ivy—and Egg’s game, of course.

“What did you just say?” Ivy asked, looking up. She flipped her hair again.

Madison tried not to smirk. “Um…nothing.”

“Oh.
Right
,” Ivy said. She glanced over in Hart’s direction and then back at Madison again. It was always the same between Madison and Ivy—like a competition that had been launched the moment junior high school began. Who would get Hart? Who would Hart like better?

Madison was pretty sure that she’d won the first leg of the race to get Hart’s heart. Everyone, including Egg, Fiona, Aimee, and Drew (who was Hart’s cousin, so he
really
knew the deal), said that the crush feeling was mutual between Hart and Madison. Then there was the almost date. Madison and Hart had
almost
gone to the movies as a couple. Ivy hadn’t had any of those experiences. She and Hart never went to any movies—or anywhere—together except maybe the school lunchroom, and that didn’t count.

While Ivy simmered and tried to make Hart look at her (and not at Madison), Madison glanced down at her journal again. It lay open, uncovered, on the lab table. Her brain said,
“Look away! Look away!”
But it was as if Madison’s eyes were magnets drawn to a magnetic field.

Madison read the words
My life is just so…

Ivy’s hand was partly covering the page.

Just so
what
?

At that moment, Mr. Danehy came back into the classroom, his hands still over his mouth. His face looked blotchy, as if he’d been coughing a lot. And of course, he had. He looked sweatier than ever. Although Madison wasn’t a huge fan of her science teacher, she was a teeny bit worried.

“Class, I need to walk down the hall for a moment. Would you please open your books to chapter six? I want you to memorize all the terms on page ninety-one. I’ll have the hall monitor come in and watch the class while I’m gone.”

Madison was relieved. Now he wouldn’t be collecting the homework right away—and maybe not even until tomorrow. It gave her a chance to finish, and to spy on more of what Ivy had written.

But the moment Madison glanced over again, that voice inside her head screamed,
“Stop looking at Ivy’s journal!”
She put her head down on the table with a thud.

Ouch.
Madison’s head throbbed. She hadn’t meant to bonk it.

“You okay, Maddie?” Ivy asked, her voice feigning niceness as if she were the wolf in
Little Red Riding Hood
. “Look. You don’t have to hit your head just because Mr. Danehy’s leaving. I mean, I know you like him and all that…”

Ivy laughed, but Madison heard it as more of a witch’s cackle. Ivy was like the wolf
and
the witch rolled into one.

“You look a little pale, Maddie,” Ivy continued. “Hey, you’re not going to throw up or something, are you? Because I just can’t deal with barf.”

Madison lifted her chin off the table and peered into Ivy’s green eyes. “You can’t deal with anything,” Madison said softly.

“Right. Whatever.” Ivy clucked her tongue. “I wish I didn’t have you for a lab partner. I mean, it’s not even worth copying your homework. It’s not like you get all
A
s.”

Madison tried hard not to snarl when Ivy said that. She turned to say something clever. But what she saw was the journal. And this time, Ivy’s hand wasn’t blocking the words.

My life is just so…perfect.

Just so perfect.
That
was what Ivy had written?
Perfect?

Now Madison really did feel like throwing up. She felt bad that she’d looked at the page to begin with. Sneaking a peek was the wrong thing to do, and she knew it. But Madison now felt sick because of
what
Ivy had written, too.

What was it about Miss Poison Ivy’s life that was so perfect?

Ivy grabbed her journal and moved next to her drone friend Rose, leaving Madison alone at the corner of the lab table.