Authors: Laura Dower
Señora asked who else wanted to be a food volunteer. Almost every boy in the room raised his hand. Madison thought at first that was because they all wanted to be around Fiona. But it wasn’t. These boys were just plain hungry.
After Fiona left, Señora began signing up names for the dance and music task team list. Aimee’s hand shot into the air right away to be the dance task team leader. After all, she was the best dancer in seventh grade. It made the most sense. Not even Rose, Ivy’s dancing drone, challenged Aimee when it came to this.
Aimee leaned over to ask Drew if he’d help pull together all the music, too. Drew’s father was mega-rich. The Maxwells had a recording studio right there on their own property. He could make the best Halloween mix ever.
“Who would like to help lead our decorating crew?” Señora Diaz asked next. Ivy’s hand went up. So did Madison’s.
“Well.” Señora seemed pleased by their double enthusiasm. “What do you each have to say?”
Ivy started talking as if she’d already been put in charge. “I think, as class president, I know what the decorating for our dance should be. I would like to organize decorations. And I really think I can handle the scary hallway setup, too …”
“Fair enough,” Señora Diaz said. “Señorita Finn? Would you like to add anything?”
“Well … just …” Madison cleared her throat. “I just wanna say that—” The words got stuck on the way out.
“Madison,” Ivy interrupted in her hideous, sticky-sweet voice. Madison’s stomach curdled. “I really think we both know who’d be better at taking care of the decorating, don’t we?”
Madison didn’t know what to say to that.
But Aimee did.
“Excuse me,” Aimee interrupted. Her face was blotchy and Madison feared she might haul out and punch Ivy right there. She looked
that
mad. Aimee took things very personally when it came to Poison Ivy.
“We do know who’d be better, Ivy. But I think Madison would like to give
you
a chance, too.”
Gotcha!
Madison covered her mouth, surprised—and grateful.
Drew snorted again.
Ivy acted stunned.
“Now, girls,” Señora chimed in. “I don’t think we need that kind of talk.” She looked squarely at both girls, squinting and thinking for a moment. Madison sat still. Ivy flipped her hair.
Señora spoke up. “There’s more than enough work to go around for two or more people. I think Madison and Ivy should
both
lead this task team.”
“What?” Ivy and Madison said at the same time. “You mean—”
“Sí!”
Señora Diaz said in Spanish emphatically. “You will lead the decorating task team
together.
That is my final decision.”
In one fleeting moment, Señora Diaz had sealed Ivy and Madison’s Halloween dance fates. Now Madison and Poison Ivy weren’t only partnered in science class—they were matched up
after
school, too.
The decorators worked on the to-do list for the scary hallway first. It started out okay—without any fights or disagreements. Madison hoped it would stay that way. She scribbled some notes. Everyone had great ideas, and the meeting lasted over an hour. When Madison got home, the notes on her laptop became an official file on her laptop.
Halloween Dance: To Do
Get vibrating rubber hands with fake blood (Ivy)
Plastic ax from props in basement
Brain gelatin mold (home ec?)
Eyeballs suspended from the ceiling (if possible)
Sheets (everyone bring one set plus curtains)
Sound effects music (esp. screaming—Mrs. Montefiore in the music dept.)
Monster makeup (green, white clown makeup, black nail polish from Rose S.)
Dry ice machine (Principal Bernard to help get)
Bats, rats, and spiders (Madison)
Madison decided she’d be the best person to make spiders, roaches, and moths out of black and brown construction paper. Her love of animals and all things creepy-crawly made her perfect for the job.
Ivy decided that she wanted to put up all the balloons. Probably because the boys were already talking about playing with the helium machine. Madison wondered if that was Ivy’s key motivation: blow up balloons, meet boys. Then again, everyone loved the idea of inhaling helium and talking like a squeaky Munchkin. Ivy always did things that were popular.
Suddenly Madison’s e-mail box blinked. It even had a red exclamation mark next to it.
Importance: high!
From: Bigwheels
To: MadFinn
Subject: Happy Columbus Day?
Date: Tues 17 Oct 5:20 PM
I know I’m like 2 wks late, but did I say happy Columbus Day? Or is that holiday just a bad joke? My old camp friend said Columbus didn’t really discover America. Is that true? I figured you’d know.
Mom & Dad are officially back together. Did I tell you that already? Dad bought her flowers yesterday, so I am feeling happy. They were roses. Mom keeps humming, though, and it’s getting on my nerves.
How is that guy you have a crush on? What is his name again? Write back or else, okay?
Yours till the peanut butters,
Bigwheels
P.S. Do you have a Halloween dance at your school? I have to make cupcakes for mine. I bet you’re making posters for the dance on your computer, you’re so good at that artistic stuff.
P.P.S. What are you dressing up as for Halloween?
Madison clicked REPLY immediately. Sometimes the way she and Bigwheels thought and talked about the same things was
scary.
Her keypal hadn’t guessed that Madison would be on the decoration committee, but anything else she talked about was so true.
From: MadFinn
To: Bigwheels
Subject: Re: Happy Columbus Day?
Date: Tues 17 Oct 6:10 PM
Hi!!!!! Thanks for writing back & for your advice.
To answer all your comments and questions in order (sort of):
1. Happy Columbus Day to you, too.
2. There are some people who think Columbus wasn’t the only guy. That’s true. My mom almost produced a documentary on that subject. (Did I tell you that she makes movies? Mostly nature stuff, but sometimes profiles on famous people, too, like Christopher Columbus.)
3. I am so happy about your parents. WOW!
4. My crush is doing okay (see my question below).
5. We DO have a Halloween dance. I can’t believe you asked me that question! We just met about it today. I was put on the decorating committee, BUT there’s just one problem (see my question).
Now my questions for you.
1. How can I get my enemy (you know) away from the guy I like? She’s after him, I know it!
2. How can I be on a dance committee when my enemy is in charge? She’s everywhere I go. Help!!!
Okay, that’s all for now. Bye! WRITE BACK.
Yours till the scare crows,
MadFinn
P.S. Do you make up scary stories or just poems? Just curious. TweenBlurt is having a special Halloween writing contest. Are you entering?
She clicked SEND and watched the e-mail disappear. Madison was thinking about how great it would be if Bigwheels wrote something for the contest, too.
But then Madison thought some more.
What would it be like to compete against a keypal at that contest? Competition got in the way of everything. Competing with Ivy for the decorations committee and for Hart was enough for one day.
Let the Halloween games begin.
A
S SOON AS MADISON
arrived home from school the next day, she yanked her nubby brown sweater from the closet and down over her head. Her hair got static-electrified when she did that. She had an entire halo of split ends.
It was extra chilly in the house. Fall was beginning to make moves toward winter.
Madison wanted to power up her laptop and type into a new file called “Caught in the Web.” She had spent a half hour scribbling inside her notebook during free time in Mrs. Wing’s class, trying to come up with ideas for a story for the Halloween Web contest
Unfortunately, she had zero ideas that really worked.
She also had zero time. Her dad and his new girlfriend, Stephanie, Madison, and Aimee were going on a late afternoon trip to Peterson’s Farm. The four of them were going to get pumpkins and cider, a Finn tradition begun by Dad and his family years ago.
Madison had invited Fiona to come along, too, but Fiona had an important soccer practice (again).
Peterson’s Farm was a half hour outside of Far Hills in a town called West Lake. There wasn’t actually much of a lake there anymore, but when Dad was little, his parents brought him there every summer to swim and every winter to ice skate. Within a mile of the place, Dad usually got nostalgic.
“Do I look fat in this sweater, Mom?” Madison asked, walking back into the kitchen. She’d chosen brown corduroys to color-coordinate her bottom with the top.
“You look nice and warm,” Mom said, ignoring the fat part of the question. “Now, don’t forget to get me some of that corn relish at the farm, okay? And wear your Timberlands, not those sneakers. It’s muddy out.”
“It should be you going with us, Mom,” Madison said, picking at cookies that had been left on the kitchen counter. “It’s just not the same anymore …”
“Maddie,” Mom said. She stopped what she was doing, leaned over, and gently rubbed a finger behind Madison’s ear. “Look, Maddie, I know it’s hard. I know this is the first real fall since your father and I split up—”
Madison rolled her eyes, so Mom grabbed her gently by the shoulders.
“Madison, later on this week you and I will do something that’s fun just for us. Like making pies—or raking all the leaves in the backyard.”
“Raking? That’s your idea of fun?” Madison moaned. “Are you kidding?”
“Of course I’m only kidding!” Mom looked right into Madison’s eyes again. It felt like she was staring right through her skin, bones, and everything.
Madison didn’t feel like talking all of a sudden. She just hugged Mom.
“Honey bear,” Mom continued to speak. “You’ll love going up to West Lake. I know it. And you like Dad’s girlfriend … what’s her name?”
“Stephanie,” Madison said. Mom sometimes forgot little details like names.
“Yes,
Stephanie,”
Mom repeated slowly. “Well, you said you like her. What’s the problem?”
“She’s just not you,” Madison said.
Mom squeezed her daughter around the middle. “Do me a favor and try to have a good time, Maddie. Try.”
Tap tap.
Aimee was outside the kitchen door, face pressed so her lips went splat like a big guppy mouth kissing the glass. She’d changed her outfit since school, too.
Tap tap tap tap.
“I’m coming!” Madison said, opening the sliding doors.
“Hiya!” Aimee blurted, dancing inside. “Hey, Mrs. Finn!”
When she said “Finn,” Phin, the dog, came running to say hello.
“Well, Aimee,” Mom said. “Don’t you look as pretty as always!”
Aimee grinned and struck one of her dancer poses. “Thank you.”
“And that’s a nice sweater,” Madison said, rolling her eyes and half laughing. “Is it new?”
Aimee was wearing a black ski sweater with a big purple stripe.
“Oh my God,
this?
Not even. And it makes me look so
huge,”
Aimee quipped. “You’re not supposed to wear stripes across. Totally unflattering. But I thought it would be warm, so I wore it. It’s wicked cold out today.”
“You’ve got a lot of energy this afternoon,” Mom declared.
“My brother Roger made me herbal tea when I got home from school,” Aimee said. “You know how he always makes these drinks with ginger and ginseng. It’s good for you.”
Madison had never eaten or drunk anything with ginseng in it. It sounded too mysterious. She glanced at her own outfit and compared it to what Aimee had on. Aimee always seemed to dress the part of cool while Madison usually felt uncool in comparison.
Honk honk.
Aimee peeked out the window. “It’s your dad, Maddie! Bye, Mrs. Finn!”
“That was good timing, huh?” Madison said, looking at Mom. It seemed hard to believe Dad was in the driveway on time. Mom said that in fifteen years of marriage, Jeff Finn had
never
been on time.
Dad stuck his head out the window to wave to Mom, who was standing on the porch. Mom waved limply and walked back inside.
Approaching the car, Madison saw Stephanie seated in the front seat. Stephanie had been riding up front since she’d begun dating Dad. Madison had a sinking feeling she would
never
ride shotgun in Dad’s car again.
Madison and Aimee jumped in the back.