Read Keep It Real (From the Files of Madison Finn, 19) Online
Authors: Laura Dower
Keep It Real (From the Files of Madison Finn, 19) (14 page)
Just before they vanished from view, Ivy turned.
Madison didn’t know if she was looking back at her or just looking around. But in any case, Madison was certain of one thing.
If she wanted to keep it real, Madison needed to give Ivy the benefit of the doubt, no matter what. There were so many things Madison didn’t know or understand.
Mom and Dad had been right.
Some secrets were not meant to be shared. And then there were the other secrets—the ones that could be shared—and kept.
Madison would keep this one under lock and key.
M
ADISON SPENT HER FREE
period on Thursday in the media lab of the library. She needed to catch up on her journaling exercises from Mr. Gibbons’s class.
She’d finally chosen someone for the question on point of view.
My mother is sick and my heart is sadder than sad because
Madison stopped, read over what she’d read, and then erased the entry. For one thing, it sounded too much like her and not like the person she was writing as. Luckily she’d been writing in pencil.
She started over.
My classmates think I’m mean. I always talk about other people, and I don’t always say very nice things. They think that I think I’m the center of the universe. And most of the time, that’s okay. I’m popular, I’m pretty, and I get good grades (except lately in science because Madison won’t help me!).
Madison chuckled to herself but then erased the parenthetical remark. She didn’t want to mention any real names.
There are loads of things people don’t know about me. And I wish people would just shut up sometimes and think about what it means to be me. Not just the part about trying to be perfect all the time (because it’s hard) but the part about my mom. She is so sick. She’s getting radiation treatments and she’s been back to the hospital, like, four times, and my sister cries all the time. I want to cry, but it just hurts too much.
Madison stopped again, but not because she needed to erase anything. She stopped because she could see how the writing assignment was working. Mr. Gibbons and all the other English teachers in the building had assigned the journaling exercises as a way to make students dive into their writing and see the world in a richer way.
Now Madison could see.
She saw things from Ivy’s side.
Some of the words Madison wrote weren’t very flattering to Ivy. And some weren’t even true. But when it came to the details about Mrs. Daly, Madison felt a surge of emotion that felt very real. For a fleeting moment, she imagined what it was really like to be in Ivy’s world.
And it did hurt.
“What are you doing up here all by yourself, Miss Finn?” Mr. Books asked in his best whisper. He had sneaked up beside Madison while she was writing.
Madison quickly shut her composition notebook.
“Studying,” she answered curtly.
“Ahhh. Working on your seventh-grade journal, I see,” Mr. Books said. “Good for you. Those projects can be quite enlightening.”
Madison nodded. “Mmmm.”
Mr. Books walked away and left Madison alone again. After working for a while on the different-point-of-view writing assignment, she’d filled seven pages. It was more than she’d ever been able to write from her own point of view.
Although her pencil raced across the page without stopping, Madison kept glancing up to make sure that Mr. Books wasn’t spying anymore. She also kept her eyes open for signs of the enemy. The worst possible scenario would be for Ivy to come by and see Madison sitting there. What if she were to see those seven pages? Especially after she’d asked Madison to keep her mouth shut—twice?
But no one except the librarian ever approached Madison. And after finishing up the assignment, she still had time to browse through her journal just to make sure there were no parts in there that she didn’t want Mr. Gibbons to see—like the “Madison Jones” scribbles, for example, or the “I hate Ivy” pages. In the end, Madison ended up crossing out a few things and even ripping out a couple of pages.
A few minutes later, the class bell rang, and Madison headed for English. She was ready—at last—to hand her journal in to Mr. Gibbons for the first time that week.
When she walked into the classroom, Madison saw a pile of black composition notebooks on top of Mr. Gibbons’s desk. Some kids had plastered the covers of their notebooks with stickers, while others had simply written their names on the tops in perfect cursive letters.
“Hey, Maddie,” Fiona said, coming up behind Madison.
“Hey,” Madison replied. “What’s up?”
“I didn’t even finish yesterday’s writing assignment,” Fiona confessed to Madison as she placed her own notebook on the top of the pile. “I fell asleep right on top of my journal, too. Half the pages are wrinkled.”
Madison giggled. “At least it looks like you spent some quality time with it,” she said.
“Ha-ha,” Fiona said, laughing. She headed for her seat near the back of the room.
Madison quickly shoved her own journal into the middle of one short pile. She sandwiched it in between two others so that no one would see it easily. There was no way Madison wanted to risk leaving hers out in plain view. Unlike some people, undoubtedly, she
had
written the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
At the edge of the desk, Madison’s eye was caught by the shimmer of a silvery sticker depicting an illustrated bumblebee with the words
QUEEN OF EVERYTHING
on it. Madison was sure she knew whom that sticker—and journal—belonged to. But for the first time since the project had begun, Madison was not tempted to peek inside.
Ivy was still the enemy, but Madison understood some things about her that she hadn’t really known before. As Mom and Dad had both said, whatever Ivy wrote inside her journal—true or not—was meant to stay private unless Ivy decided to share it. And clearly, she wasn’t ready. From what Madison had seen at the mall, Ivy seemed unwilling to share almost any of her feelings about her mom’s illness. Was it too hard or too scary or just too messy? Madison figured it was just too messy. Someone like Ivy Daly couldn’t be popular, beautiful,
and
messy. It just didn’t work that way.
Meanwhile, Madison was the total opposite. Her journal was a mess: scribbles and Hart Jones doodles and crazy stories about scars—and she loved it that way. Despite all her fears to the contrary, Madison Finn did know how to keep it real. This journal, her online files, and her e-mails to Bigwheels were the proof.
After school that afternoon, Madison returned home to find a package of Chocco Rocco cookies, wrapped in a big red bow, sitting on top of the kitchen table with a note from Mom.
Hi, there, honey bear!
Took Phin over to the dog run with Aimee’s mom. We’re seeing a lot of each other lately! Back before 5.
It’s a gorgeous afternoon—you should do your homework on the porch!
Love,
Mom
P.S. Got some of your favorite cookies. Don’t eat too many!
Madison immediately ripped open the cellophane and carefully removed two of the giant chocolate-chip cookies, stuffing a palmful of crumbs into her mouth at the same time. Then she poured herself a glass of milk. Eating these cookies with milk after school had been a special treat since kindergarten, and it never lost its appeal. Chocco Roccos were as delicious as ever now that Madison was in seventh grade.
Taking Mom’s advice, Madison returned outside and plopped down onto the chair on their front porch. The sky was a beautiful, late-afternoon blue, and the air was warmer than usual for October. She didn’t even need her jacket.
After taking a few bites of one of the cookies, Madison flipped open her laptop and logged on to TweenBlurt.com. Much to her surprise, her buddy list came up and showed that Bigwheels was online. Madison sent her a message right away.
As Madison sat on the porch chatting online with Bigwheels, the sun began to slip lower in the sky. The clouds took over.
Madison said her good-byes and closed the laptop. She and Bigwheels promised to talk more regularly about Eddie and school and everything. They didn’t want to keep anything important a secret.
As the sky got darker, the air got cooler. Madison shut her laptop and wrapped her sweater tightly around her middle. When she had last checked her laptop clock it had been almost five o’clock. She expected Mom and Phin to pull into the driveway any minute.
In the fading light, Madison spotted a boy walking down the sidewalk. She didn’t recognize him at first, but as he came closer she realized she knew
exactly
who it was!
Hart?
“Finnster!” Hart lifted his hand and waved as he approached.
Madison leaped up from the chair where she’d been sitting. She placed her laptop onto a small table.
“Hart!” Madison cried. “What are you doing here?”
“I was over at Chet’s,” Hart said, sounding a little out of breath. He’d jogged the last few yards to Madison’s porch steps. “We were playing Disaster Zone again. But without Egg. Chet and I have decided that we’re going to challenge him to a game and beat him. He always thinks he’s the king of video games, but I want to prove him wrong.”
“Sounds good to me,” Madison chuckled. “Anything to make Egg eat his words. Ha!”
“Where’s Phin, your dog?” Hart asked.
“With my mom,” Madison said. “They went to the store.”
“So you’re alone?” Hart asked.
“Just doing some surfing online,” Madison said. “Um…you want to sit down for a minute?”
Madison knew that Hart would accept her offer. After all, if he’d been over at Chet and Fiona’s house, he had probably been planning to take the bus home. The route to the bus didn’t go past Madison’s house—it went in the opposite direction. Passing by 5 Blueberry Street was a planned detour.
Sure enough, Hart sat down in the chair next to Madison.
“You have something on your chin,” Hart said, pointing to his own chin to indicate the spot.
Madison reached up and brushed off a huge cookie crumb.
How embarrassing.
“My mom left me some Chocco Roccos,” Madison said. She pointed to the extra cookie she’d left on the table. “Want one?”
“Oh, yeah,” Hart declared. “I love them! They’re my favorite.”
Madison grinned.
They even liked the same cookies. This had to be destiny.
After a few moments of silence, and more cookie-crunching, Hart spoke up. “So,” he said, “what’s new?”
“New?” Madison repeated. “I turned in my journal to Mr. Gibbons today.”
“Me, too,” Hart said. “Anything else going on?”
Madison looked out at the darkness that had moved in. Night was really falling. The Finns’ porch light came on automatically, and Hart’s face was flooded with yellow. He looked cute even in bad lighting.
Madison repeated the question. “Anything new?”
“What’s up with you?” Hart asked. “You okay?”
Madison laughed. “Sure. Yeah. Of course.”
“Really? Because you seem…well…you seem a little weird.”
“Weird?”
“I don’t mean that in a bad way,” Hart tried to explain.
“Oh?”
“No, I was just wondering,” Hart gulped. Madison could see his Adam’s apple move. Was he nervous? She was.
“Thanks for worrying,” Madison said. “But I’m fine.”
“Okay,” Hart said.
“Wait!” Madison spoke up. “No! That’s a lie. I’m not totally fine. You’re right…I
have
been acting and feeling a little weird in the past few weeks.”
Madison proceeded to explain to Hart everything that had happened with Bigwheels and with Mom. She was tempted to tell him all about Ivy and Ivy’s mom, but she didn’t do that. She couldn’t do that. Promises counted, even when you made them to the enemy.
Hart listened as Madison talked. And they really talked, not like at school, when everyone was together and trying to be funny or clever all the time. They talked about their parents and their feelings about seventh grade. It was almost twenty after five and Mom still hadn’t come home. Madison was very grateful for that. It was like destiny.
“You know, Finnster, you’re really nice,” Hart said, out of the blue.
It took Madison by surprise, even though they’d been talking so honestly for almost half an hour.
“So are you,” Madison admitted. It was the closest she’d ever come to telling Hart that she had a crush on him.
Hart laughed. “I feel like such a dork,” he said.
There was a long silence. Well, it was probably only twenty seconds or so, but it felt like an eternity.
“We should do something,” Madison blurted out.
“Yeah?” Hart said with a smile.
But then Madison sighed.