Keep It Real (From the Files of Madison Finn, 19) (15 page)

“What?” Hart asked.

“Well, you already asked me to the movies once.”

“I did?” Hart said, playing dumb.

“Oh, don’t you remember?” Madison said. “It was with everyone else at the mall, and I thought that it was sort of like…”

“Finnster, of course I remember asking you,” Hart said. “And we went, didn’t we?”

“Sort of,” Madison said. “Although I’m not sure if we talked much.”

“Not like now,” Hart said.

“No,” Madison said. A warm breeze blew, but Madison shivered. This was one of those moments she’d been waiting for—forever.

Sunset. Porch. Alone.
Hart.

“So…we
should
do something,” Hart said. “I mean, is it okay if I ask again?”

“Want to go to the movies again with everyone?” Madison asked.

“Sure. Or something else,” Hart said.

“That would be cool,” Madison said. She felt a little light-headed as they sat there, and one of her biggest dreams unfolded before her very eyes. It was like one of those moments from a romance movie. Madison glanced over at Hart’s hand. His fingers were tapping the arm of the chair.

Did he want to hold hands? Madison wished she were sitting a little closer so she could find out. After all, he
had
grabbed her hand just the other day (although Madison knew that that hadn’t really been a romantic grab).

“You know,” Hart said slowly. “I should tell you something.”

“What?” Madison asked. Her face was flushed with anticipation. This really
was
a scene from a movie.

“Well, do you remember the day when you and I collided at school? And your bag fell apart?”

Madison did remember. “Yeah?” she asked tentatively.

“Well…I saw your journal that day. I saw what you wrote.”

Madison had never felt her stomach flip and then flop more than it did at that moment. “You saw?” she asked.

“I saw my name on the page.”

Madison could hardly keep herself from running—
screaming
—from that porch. Her feet wanted to go, her head wanted to go.
She
wanted to go!
He had seen it?

She’d been staring at Hart in wonder. Now she couldn’t even glance over at him.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Madison said.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Hart said with a little chuckle.

Is he laughing at me now? HELP!

“It was stupid,” Madison said quickly. “What I wrote. I was just goofing around. I’m sorry.”

Just then, bright headlights shone. The porch was flooded with light as Mom pulled into the driveway.

“Your mom’s home,” Hart said. “I guess I should go.”

“Yeah,” Madison said, standing up. “I guess.”

Mom unloaded Phin from the car first. She waved to Madison and Hart. Phin raced over and jumped right up onto Hart’s leg.

“So we’ll do something,” Hart said as he started for the porch steps. He patted Phin’s head. “Later, Finnster.”

“Later,” Madison said.

Madison watched as Hart gave Mom a friendly hello and then disappeared around the hedge.

Mom walked over to Madison. “What was
that
all about?” she asked.

“Oh, he was just walking by,” Madison said.

“Hart Jones was
just
walking by? Oh, Madison, he likes you,” Mom said.

Madison broke out into a wide grin.

“I know,” she said, believing in her heart, at last, that things between her and her crush were realer than real.

LTNE            Long Time No E-mail

Kewlest         Coolest

WTP             What’s the point?

HW               Homework

BB                  BloggerBlurt

ESP                Extra Sensory Perception

*>)                 Keep a secret (or, wink)

Un42n8ly      Unfortunately

Ppl                 People

ATT              All the time

) ?                  My brain’s empty! Huh?

:*;                   Big sniffle

JSS                 Just so sorry

JSS2               Just so sorry, too

When I discovered Bigwheels’s blog on BloggerBlurt, I panicked. I couldn’t believe that one of my closest friends (and my very best online friend) would have kept a computer diary without telling me. But she did. It hurt my feelings. But soon, Bigwheels had to tell me about what was really going on. She realized that by keeping a blog, she exposed her thoughts and feelings to everyone, including me.
If you want to keep your thoughts and feelings secret, don’t write them down in a blog.
Everything you write online will likely get seen by someone else. I don’t think I’m ready to turn my files into a blog. I like keeping some of my thoughts and feelings private—especially the ones about Hart.

Visit Madison at the author’s page:
www.lauradower.com

Turn the page to continue reading from Laura Dower’s From the Files of Madison Finn series

“Y
OUR OFFICE LOOKS LIKE
a train wreck,” Madison mumbled as she handed Mom a stack of empty file folders. “How do you expect me to keep my room clean when you leave stuff all over
your
room?”

“Honey bear, you know I’ve been busy,” Mom grumbled. “I’ve got a big business trip coming up, and there’s paperwork and hours of video to log…”

“Busy? Mom, you never let me get away with that excuse,” Madison said.

Madison’s pug, Phineas T. Finn, let out a loud yawn and started to snort as if he were about to sneeze but couldn’t quite do it.

“Look!” Mom chuckled. “Even Phin thinks you’re being unreasonable.”

Madison couldn’t help laughing. Phin’s little snorts came fast and furious until he finally let out one big doggy sneeze. Spray flew everywhere.

“Phinnie!” Madison cried. “Gross! I wish I could teach you how to blow your nose into a tissue.”

Mom handed Madison a pile of books from her shelf. “Do you want these?” she asked. Madison realized she was holding a stack of old Nancy Drew books. Mom had collected them as a child. Some of the bindings were cracked. The pages had yellowed and torn in places. But Madison didn’t mind folded-over corners on pages or even handwriting inside a book. She believed that books weren’t really good unless they’d been read a hundred times at least.

“Maybe I’ll reorganize my bookshelves this afternoon,” Madison mused.

“Why don’t you take Phin for a walk instead?” Mom suggested. The dog wagged his tail, readying himself for sneeze number two. “Get out of the house for a while. Go over to Aimee’s house and play with Blossom.”

Aimee Gillespie was one of Madison’s best friends at Far Hills Junior High—and a fellow dog owner. Aimee’s basset hound, Blossom, and Madison’s Phin were like dog best friends, if there were such a thing.

“I can’t meet Aimee. She’s at dance class today,” Madison said.

But Madison agreed that getting outside was a good idea—with or without her friend. She grabbed one of Phin’s rawhide chews and a rope toy. Phin’s collar clinked as Madison attached the leash and tugged him toward the front door.

“We can go over to Far Hills Park,” Madison announced as she pulled on her jacket. “We haven’t checked out the dog run yet.”

“Great idea!” Mom said.

Madison loved the fact that the town had finally erected a special fence around a section of the park and marked it
RESERVED FOR DOGS
. It was covered with patches of grass and dirt where dogs could run and sniff and play long games of fetch. It was also a place where dog owners could go and hang out together.

En route to the park, Phin trotted along, pug nose in the air, stopping only to sniff at the occasional hydrant or mailbox. He knew what was coming; Phin loved nothing better than the company of other dogs.

“Howwoooooooo!”

As they turned in to the park, heading toward the dog run, a loose hound dog let out a wild howl. Madison recognized the pooch from the neighborhood. His name was Red, and his owner was also a volunteer at the Far Hills Animal Shelter, where Madison sometimes worked after school. When he saw Madison, Red’s owner gave a huge wave.

Phin pulled hard on his leash, and as they reached the gate to the dog run, Madison unclipped it so he could run free. He dodged a barking Labrador retriever and sniffed his way over toward a white fluffy dog, probably a Maltese.

“Fluffy!” the dog’s owner called out, looking terrified.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to worry. Phinnie’s a good dog,” Madison reassured the woman.

Phin and Fluffy stepped around each other, noses sniffing madly, whiskers twitching, ears wiggling. It was like some kind of mating dance.

“Finnster! Finnster! Over here!”

Madison jerked her head around. Finnster was one of her many nicknames. Actually, it was a special name given to her by Hart Jones, one of her seventh-grade classmates. And right now, Hart was there. He was walking along one of the pathways through the park with another one of Madison’s guy friends, Drew Maxwell.

Madison’s heart skipped a beat. She and Hart had been “in like” this year, doing their own version of a mating dance. First they’d pretend to be cool about their relationship, and then they’d act like good friends, and then finally they would admit that yes, they really, really did want to go on a real date together. Of course, nothing had happened yet in the date department. Her friends were growing impatient with their behavior. Everyone knew about the mutual crush and wondered why Madison and Hart didn’t just act more like a couple.

But for whatever reason, they didn’t. Madison figured they were both a little scared. After all, it
was
scary to like someone that much. It was scary to hear Hart calling her name in the middle of the park, too.

“Finnster! What’s up?” Hart’s voice boomed again.

Madison shrugged and gave the two boys a wide smile. They came closer toward her, arms swinging. They each carried a pair of black skates. Hart had two hockey sticks with him, too.

Madison pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Were her lips chapped? Was she wearing something cute? She glanced down at her purple sweatpants and sneakers.

“Are you here with Phin?” Drew asked, leaning over the dog-run fence. No one could enter the area without a dog, so the boys stayed on the other side.

“Yeah, I’m here with Phinnie,” Madison said meekly. She pointed in the direction of Phin, who was still playing with Fluffy. “We went for a long walk. I was helping my mom clean out the office, and…well, you probably don’t care what I was doing.”

“Sure we care,” Hart said. He leaned the hockey sticks against the fence. “We saw you from the path.”

“We were over at the rink,” Drew said.

“Yeah, I figured,” Madison said, nodding at the skates and sticks.

“Duh,” Hart said. “Of course.”

“I was going to call you today, Maddie,” Drew said.

“Call me?” Madison repeated.

“I invited everyone over to my house this afternoon; sort of a last-minute thing. We thought of it when we were playing hockey. Want to come?”

“Yeah,” Hart said. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be there,” he added cheerily.

Madison didn’t know how to answer. It was one of those scary moments. If she had been honest with herself—and with everyone else, especially Hart—she would have jumped right over the dog-run fence, fallen into Hart’s arms, and declared, “
You’ll
be there? Well, let’s go right now!”

Instead, she rocked from one foot to the other and briefly glanced back over at Phin, who had moved from Fluffy to a sheepdog five times his size. Phin’s curlicue tail was wagging, so Madison left him alone. With his tail still moving, Phin ran over to a pair of dachshunds.

“Well?” Drew asked expectantly. Madison had still not responded to his invitation.

“Well…okay,” Madison replied. “I just have to take Phin home and my Mom can drive me over.”

Hart’s face lit up. “Cool!” he said, clapping his hands.

“Come over around four,” Drew said. “My mom will probably order pizzas or something if you want to stay for supper. And we can watch a movie, too.”

Drew Maxwell’s family had their very own screening room. They were one of the wealthiest families in Far Hills; their house also had a giant pool, tennis court, and about a dozen bedrooms. Drew’s parents basically let him do whatever he wanted, and he loved having his friends over for parties or study sessions.

“I’ll call you if my mom says no for some reason,” Madison said.

“She won’t say no,” Hart said.

“Okay,” Madison giggled. “So I’ll see you later, then.”

The boys grabbed their stuff and headed back toward the path. Just then, Phinnie darted between Madison’s legs. He was being chased by three other dogs. Madison felt her feet go out from under her. She briefly flew up into the air, knocked into the side of the fence, and landed on her butt—right on the cold, hard dirt.

“Oh, my!” From across the dog run, Fluffy’s owner ran over to Madison, arms flailing. “Are you all right?”

Red’s owner ran over, too, to offer his helping hand.

Madison rubbed her backside and stood up. She felt a little wobbly, but nothing seemed broken or bruised. She glanced at the spot where Drew and Hart had been. Happily, her crush had not witnessed her pratfall. She kindly thanked the other dog owners and reattached Phin’s leash. It was time to go.