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Authors: Laura Dower

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BOOK: Hit the Beach
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“I wonder what it will be like to see all of my old friends in Los Gatos,” Fiona mused. “I mean, I don’t remember ever feeling as close to them as I feel to you guys right now.”

“You’ll have a great time,” Madison whispered. “I promise.”

“I wish I was seeing old friends,” Lindsay said. “But no. I’ll be stuck with my dad in London the entire time.”

“We really should keep in touch when we’re away,” Aimee said.

“I’ll send a postcard from California,” Fiona said.

“I will, too,” Lindsay said.

“No, we should keep in touch every day,” Madison said. “Like we do now. We should e-mail every day. We can pick a chat room and a time to talk.”

“But we can’t,” Fiona said. “Can we? I mean, when it’s six here it’ll be three in California and some other time in the middle of the morning in England.”

“Oh,” Madison said. “Well, we could try.”

“We could try,” Lindsay seconded her.

Aimee was about to say something, but yawned instead. “I’m so tired all of a sudden,” she said. She rested her head on the pillow inside her sleeping bag. Fiona curled up in her own sleeping bag under one of her mother’s warm quilts. She needed a blanket, because the air conditioner in Madison’s room was still turned to the high setting.

The radio played an old Kelly Clarkson song. At first, Lindsay and Fiona quietly hummed along. No one was really talking anymore. Madison felt her own eyelids droop. Then, no one was humming, either.

“I don’t want to say good night,” Madison whispered in the dark.

No one said anything back. Madison glanced around the room and saw that no one’s eyes were open anymore. Everyone had dozed off for real, even though it was only midnight.

Madison leaned over, clicked off the radio, and scrunched down inside her fluffy sleeping bag. She felt something hard inside the bottom but realized it was just one of Phin’s squeaky toys.

“Good night, everyone,” she whispered aloud.

Then, just like that, she headed off to dreamland with everyone else.

And although this was the first stop on the long road to each of their summer vacations, Madison knew that her
real
journey had scarcely begun.

Chapter 2

T
HE CURSOR BLINKED ON
the screen of Madison’s laptop, and she breathed a huge sigh of relief.

It was finally working again.

She’d spent the morning with Aimee, Fiona, and Lindsay—getting dressed, tidying up the bedroom, and then invading the kitchen where Mom had made plates of hot scrambled eggs and peanut-buttered whole-wheat toast for everyone (except Fiona, who took her toast with jam only, no peanut butter,
ever
). The morning had flown by, and soon the girls had been standing on the front porch, eyes wet, going through yet another round of “Good-bye, I love you, I miss you, I can’t believe I won’t see you” tears. It was all pretty exhausting, Madison told herself when the last good-bye had finally been said and she stood all alone in her living room again. Of course, she wasn’t exactly
alone
. Mom was there—somewhere in the house—working on the outline for her latest project with Budge Films. And Phin was there, too, sniffing at his now-empty dish of kibble. He’d had a few eggs and peanut-butter-and-toast crusts, but was still hungry for more.

Madison didn’t let her alone-time get her down. Instead, she took it as a perfect opportunity to get her laptop working again. Was the battery dying? Was her hard drive sick? Had she contracted some kind of shutdown virus—maybe from hours spent trolling around the Internet? She needed to find out.

Phin turned out to be good company as Madison performed the umpteenth computer checkup. He nuzzled her ankles, making noises only occasionally, when he wanted a quick scratch behind the ears or on the snout.

In the end, the laptop started up, without problems this time, which meant that it had no clearly identifiable ailment. This fact only made Madison more frustrated. How could she be sure the thing wouldn’t black out again?

“Everyone’s gone already?” Mom cried as she dashed into the kitchen to refresh her mug of green tea.

Madison shot her a funny look. “An hour ago, Mom. Where have you been?”

“Oh,” Mom said, her eyes looking a bit glazed. “Sorry, honey bear. I’ve been preoccupied with some work this morning.”

Mom took her cup and sat on a pile of cushions atop a sofa.

“So?” Mom asked expectantly. “What are you working on now? Shouldn’t you be packing?”

“I have to deal with the laptop first. It crashed again,” Madison explained.

“Again?” Mom cried. “Aw, Maddie, you should just leave it at home. Do you really have to bring it to Florida? I could have one of the tech guys from work check it out.”

“No way, Mom. I need my files with me at all times,” Madison said, aghast at her mom’s suggestion. “Especially since I’m going away.”

“Of course,” Mom said, trying to sound soothing. She changed the subject and sipped her tea. “Maddie, your dad is right. This camp seems made for you. It’s just the spot for a budding environmentalist and scientist. You know, I saw nesting turtles once, and it was quite exciting.”

“Yeah, but you saw turtles in the Galapagos Islands,” Madison said. “I’m just going to Florida. That isn’t nearly as cool.”

Mom grinned. “Turtles are turtles, Maddie,” she said. “Nature is beautiful
everywhere
. Remember that.”

“I know,” Madison said with a shrug.

“So,” Mom hinted gently, “when were you thinking about packing that suitcase? Hmmm?”

Madison took the hint. As usual, she had saved all of her clothes-packing for the last minute. At Mom’s reminder, she bounded upstairs to her bedroom to stuff a suitcase (or two). The flight was scheduled from LaGuardia Airport in New York to West Palm Beach in Florida for later that very evening—at 5:20
P.M.

Madison started to pack, but instantly became overwhelmed. She fell on to her bed and stared up at the ceiling.

“Oh … what should I bring, Phin?” Madison asked.

If dogs had really been able to talk—i.e., speak English—Phin probably would have woofed, “Bring me!” Unfortunately, Madison had to leave the dog in Far Hills. And he had no fashion tips.

Madison decided she didn’t have time to contemplate her wardrobe anymore. She was in a race against the clock. Madison plowed through the closet, plucking one or two sundresses off their hangers. Shorts! She grabbed some denim shorts, then black, olive green, navy, and a new pair of orange ones, and folded them together, placing them in a side section of the suitcase. A handful of white, pink, blue, and yellow T-shirts completed the pile. Then she packed a white, eyeleted top she’d gotten from Boop-Dee-Doop’s online catalog but never worn, a blue baby-doll top with spaghetti straps, a pair of faded jeans, a long pair of linen pants (perfect for dinner out with Dad and Stephanie), and a dozen or so other tops and bottoms, including a pair of shocking-pink capri pants that she loved to wear—even if she probably would have to endure being compared to a flamingo at some point during the trip.

Madison wondered what the other kids at Camp Sunshine would be like. Since there was no stringent prerequisite for admission to the camp except for a basic love of science, Madison guessed that the group of kids she met would be just like her—only from different parts of the U.S. Or would they? The more she thought about leaving the comfort of Far Hills for the sticky, slimy heat of Florida in summer, the more Madison began to doubt.

For starters, how could she make it without her BFFs so far from home? Could she last two whole weeks without her beloved Phinnie? Way back in the spring, when Dad had suggested the camp stay—to coincide with a short business trip and a vacation that he and Stephanie were taking in Florida—Madison had been thrilled to sign up. She had relished the idea of beach walks and long talks with Dad under the palm trees. But now—now that camp was really and truly here, she wasn’t so sure. The only thing she was certain to get in Florida was sunburned.

Madison climbed on top of her stuffed suitcase and pushed down hard so she could zip up the side. It was a delightful sound, that final
zzzzzzzip
, and she was happier than happy finally to be packed. After shoving a pair of flip-flops and a pair of sneakers into one of the outside pockets, Madison gave herself a thumbs-up. The hardest part was done.

Madison had only two hours before her departure.

She turned once again to her laptop, frantically checking to make absolutely sure that she had all the e-mail addresses and other information she needed to keep updating her files during the two-week trip. Then she logged on to TweenBlurt.com. To Madison’s surprise, her e-mailbox was no longer empty.

FROM           SUBJECT

JeffFinn      C U Soon

BalletGrl     I luv u more than ballet

GoGramma      My new e-mail address

The first, from Dad, was about the trip, of course. Madison hit
REPLY
.

From: MadFinn

To: JeffFinn

Subject: Re: C U Soon

Date: Sat 7 Aug 12:45 PM

Dad, you are sooooo funny. Quit making me NERVOUS writing to me right before I get on the plane! :>) Yes, I remembered to pack everything the camp requested that we bring. (I have the checklist in case we need it.) I have one fat suitcase and I’m carrying my sleeping bag as a carry-on along with my orange bag and laptop. BTW: Thanks for reminding me about the security at the airport. I’ll wear rubber-soled sandals so I don’t set off the machines. Duh I almost forgot when I did that last time and U got so freaked out when they pulled me aside and opened all my bags. As if I was some kind of security risk, right? Guess it’s better 2 B safe but still …

OK I am so rambling. FYI I will be in West Palm Bch around 8 PM I guess or sooner. You better check. Will Stephanie come 2 the airport? Can we go to dinner @ that cool place u told me about?

See you at the baggage claim. Don’t be LATE :>)

xox

Maddie

Madison clicked
SEND
. Then she looked at the next e-mail, from Aimee. She laughed to herself when she reread the subject line.

From: BalletGrl

To: MadFinn, Wetwinz, LuvNstuff

Subject: I luv u more than ballet

Date: Sat 7 Aug 12:49 PM

Seriously!!! I do!!! OMG that was THE BEST sleepover EVER, Maddie. Right? U know it’s totally not me to be the mushiest of the BFF group but I am feeling sososososo sad AND 100% mushy right now knowing I won’t see ANY of u for like 2 wks. OMGOMGOMG! I’m crying right now I swear. My brothers think I am the hugest LAME-O. But u understand, doncha? I so wish I wasn’t the only one sticking around here in Far Hills. *sigh* E ME from the airplane! LOL J/K.

LYLAS,

Aim

There was an e-mail from Gramma Helen, too, but Madison had only just clicked on it when she heard the doorbell downstairs. She stopped to listen.

“Hello,” she heard Mom say; her voice was friendly, but faraway. Madison couldn’t hear anything else she was saying. She figured the person at the door was someone from Budge Films, or maybe just the mailman or the delivery guy.

“Maddie?”

Madison pricked up her ears. Mom was calling her. Maybe Aimee was there? That would be just like Aimee to write a sappy e-mail and then dash over to Madison’s house in person so she could embarrassingly take it all back. Chuckling to herself, Madison leaped off her bed and went into the hall.

“Did you call me, Mom?” Madison asked from the top of the stairs.

“I sure did,” Mom said, coming into view. “You have a visitor.”

Madison grinned and bounded down the stairs. “I know who it is,” Madison said with a smile. “Aimee, you just couldn’t stay away, could you?”

All at once, Madison stopped. It wasn’t Aimee.

It was Hart.
Hart
.

“Sorry to just come over like this, Finnster,” Hart said. “I tried e-mailing you, but it kept coming back to me. I think my e-mail account is messed up. Sorry.”

“Um … that’s okay.”

Madison didn’t know what else to say—she was that surprised. Her mind was spinning like a hamster’s wheel. All she could think about was how cute Hart looked in his skater T-shirt and long shorts. His hair was growing out a little bit. He had one of those dreamy tans. She hadn’t really noticed it until just then.

“Anyway,” Hart went on, “I forgot that I wasn’t going to see you for a few weeks. I didn’t want you to leave without saying good-bye.”

“Oh,” Madison bowed her head down. “That was so nice.”

Hart reached for Madison’s hand. She gave it to him and he squeezed it. But then Mom walked back into the room and they both let go—right away.

“So, Hart, are you staying? Should I make a snack?” Mom asked. It was a little after two-thirty in the afternoon.

Madison hoped he would say, “I’m totally here for a snack, and in fact, I’ve decided that I’m following Madison to Florida, because I can’t bear to be without her. …” As usual, she was letting her imagination run wild. But Hart wasn’t really saying anything like that.

Hart shrugged. “I can’t really stay that long,” he mumbled. “I just wanted to … um … you know … um …”


What
?” Mom crossed her arms.

Madison took a breath.
Why wasn’t Mom going back into the kitchen and leaving her and Hart alone?
Just her presence was making Hart super nervous.

“Yeah. So …” Hart said, turning to Madison.

“So …” Madison said.

“So?” Mom said. She still didn’t get it. Madison wanted to wail—loudly.

“Okay. Well. I better go,” Hart said. “I just wanted to say, like I said, I wanted to stay, I mean,
say
…”

Mom looked at Hart. Then, as if hit by a lightning bolt, she finally—
finally
—got it. She glanced at Madison, who made a face that said,
Please,
please
leave right now, Mom, so I can be alone with the boy I have had a crush on for as long as I can remember.

BOOK: Hit the Beach
11.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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