Give and Take (7 page)

“Maddie!” Mom screeched from behind the kitchen table.

Madison turned to see Mom frantically wiping off the stove and floor. The pot had boiled over.

“Didn’t I ask you to watch this for me?” Mom asked. “Thank goodness I was only boiling potatoes.”

“Whoops,” Madison said. “Sorry, Mom.”

Mom sighed and turned down the burner, bringing her pot to a slower simmer. “Next time, please pay better attention?” Mom pleaded. “That computer can be such a distraction sometimes.”

Madison waited for Mom to exit the kitchen once more before pulling up the website again. She checked TweenBlurt.com for the chat room with Aimee and Fiona, but it was empty. Neither BFF was online anymore.

Dejected, Madison logged off and shut down the laptop.

Why hadn’t her friends messaged her? Didn’t they check to see if Madison was online at the same time? Why were they acting exclusive online with each other and
without
her?

Maybe it was better NOT to know.

O
N TUESDAY MORNING, MADISON
started getting more worried about her BFFs again. In between classes, Madison saw Aimee and Fiona in the midst of a private conversation. But when she walked up to join them, the talking stopped.

Stopped.

It wasn’t the sort of holiday spirit Madison expected from her closest girlfriends—or anyone else.

During lunch period, Madison spotted Aimee again down in the cafeteria, but without Fiona this time.

“Aimee?” Madison asked as she got on line for macaroni and cheese.

“Hi, Maddie! Hey, did you try their homemade granola? It’s actually good,” Aimee said, sliding a banana and yogurt onto her lunch tray.

“Aimee, can I ask you something?” Madison said.

Aimee turned around. “Is something wrong?”

“You tell me,” Madison said.

“Huh?” Aimee asked.

“Is something wrong?” Madison asked.

“Wrong?” Aimee repeated. She smiled knowingly. “Oh, I get it. You’re still freaked about the other day at the ice rink. You know that when Fiona and I got that ride home from the hockey game you
totally
could have come along. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Madison said. “But there’s other stuff going on. I feel like I’m … well, in the way when I’m around you and Fiona.”

“In the way?” Aimee tugged at her braid. “Maddie, what are you talking about?”

From the way Aimee twisted and pulled at her hair, Madison knew she was making her BFF uncomfortable.

“I can’t believe you would think that,” Aimee said.

“So I’m not in the way?” Madison said, looking for further reassurance.

“Of course not. Hey, I’m starved,” Aimee said. “Can we talk about this at the table?”

Madison shrugged as Gilda Z the lunch lady scooped a ladle of macaroni and cheese onto her plate. Hopefully, it tastes better than it looks, Madison thought, because it looks like radioactive yellow glop.

After Aimee and Madison got their drinks, they headed toward their usual orange table at the back of the room.

“I’ll catch up with you, Aim,” Madison called out. “I just have to ask Ivy something.”

Aimee made a face and kept walking. Madison approached the yellow lunch table at the center of the cafeteria. This was Ivy and the drones’ regular dining spot.

“Hey, Ivy,” Madison said, shifting from foot to foot. “Did you write up that essay about The Estates?”

Señora Diaz had asked all the volunteers to write up a profile of their recent visit, including details about the resident’s family, likes, and dislikes.

Ivy looked up but didn’t say anything right away.

“I was thinking maybe we could write ours together,” Madison suggested.

Rose Thorn grunted. “I’m sorry, Madison. Did you say what I think you said?”

“Yeah,” Joanie repeated. “Did you just ask—?”

“I was talking to Ivy,” Madison snapped, rolling her eyes.

“Well she’s not talking to you, I guess,” Joanie said, laughing to herself.

“No, I haven’t written mine yet,” Ivy said at last, giving Rose and Joan a hard look. “But I don’t really think we should work on ours together.”

“Of course you shouldn’t,” Joanie blurted.

“Fine,” Madison said, feeling like she’d been chopped off at the knees.

“Um … is there something else we can help you with?” Rose asked.

“I guess not,” Madison said, staring at Ivy.

“Why did you volunteer for The Estates anyhow?” Joanie asked. “A bunch of old people? What a party!”

Rose chuckled. “The real reason you’re doing it, Ivy, is because Hart’s doing it, too. Right?”

Ivy kicked Rose under the table. “Why don’t you just zip it?” she said in a commanding tone.

“He’s such a hottie, though,” Joanie said. “I don’t blame you.”

Madison wanted to hit Joan the drone on the side of the head with the lunch tray and run far, far away. Not only because Joan was being obnoxious, but also because she’d called attention to the truth about Hart—a truth Madison hated to acknowledge.

Ivy was after Hart, too. No matter how nice Ivy could be in the outside world, in the lunchroom she was still enemy number one—even when it came to boys. Madison had to keep reminding herself of that fact.

So instead of pulling a hit-and-run, Madison stood her ground. “Well, thanks anyway,” she said. “See you later, Ivy?”

“See you later, Ivy?” Rose teased, mocking Madison’s tone.

Madison shrugged. “Whatever.” She turned to walk away, but nearly tripped over her own shoelaces.

“Whoops. Don’t fall now,” Joanie said, cracking up.

Luckily, Madison kept her balance. She bent down to retie her shoe, placing her tray on the floor.

“How embarrassing,” Joanie whispered loudly.

Madison could hear every word. She stood up. “Embarrassing?” she said with a snarl.

“I know Ivy volunteers,” Joanie said, ignoring Madison. “But you’re the class president. You have to do those things. What’s Madison’s excuse?”

“Yeah, and you’d rather hang out with us after school anyway, right, Ivy?” Rose said.

“Who really wants to visit a bunch of old people?” Joanie quipped.

Madison raised her tray up, ready to hurl macaroni and cheese into their faces. But she didn’t. She walked away at last—anger swelling inside her chest like a balloon that wanted to POP.

How could Ivy just sit there and let them say those things? Madison fumed. What happened to Mrs. Holly Wood and the fun times Ivy had during their visits? Now Ivy was letting the drones make jokes about the nursing home? Ivy was the queen of their little clique. Why didn’t she butt in and tell Rose and Joanie to just SHUT UP?

By the time Madison reached the orange table at the back of the room, she was all worked up. Egg was holding court telling some pathetic joke about a dead skunk.

“Eeeeuw! That really smells!” Drew joked back after Egg revealed the not-so-funny punch line.

Fiona, who had finally arrived, was seated near the boys, just across the lunch table from Aimee. As soon as Madison approached, she saw Fiona whisper to Aimee and slip a notebook into her book bag.

More secrets?

Madison was too angry about Ivy to care. She walked up to the table and gasped. “I can’t believe what just happened,” Madison said.

“Did you tell off the drones?” Aimee asked, grinning. “That Rose is such a cow. I know you let her have it. Dish!”

“I didn’t really let anyone have it,” Madison said with a sigh. “Not exactly.”

“Wait! Tell us what happened,” Fiona said.

Madison slid between Aimee and Drew. Hart was all the way down the other end of the table.

“They were making fun of volunteering,” Madison said.

“Gosh,” Aimee said sarcastically. “Making fun? Now, that’s a big surprise.”

“It was mostly the drones. Ivy didn’t say much,” Madison admitted, plowing her fork through watery macaroni and gulping chocolate milk. “But still …”

“What were you stopping to talk to Ivy about anyway?” Fiona asked. “I thought you didn’t speak to the enemy, especially at lunch.”

Madison groaned. “I was just asking Ivy about this assignment we have about The Estates.”

“Why not ask Egg?” Aimee asked.

Madison shrugged. “I don’t know. I was talking to Ivy about it on the bus the other day and—”

“You’re spending a lot of time at The Estates, aren’t you?” Fiona asked.

“How’s the lady you see there? What did you call her?” Aimee asked.

“Her name is Eleanor Romano. Some people call her the Bird Lady,” Madison explained.

“Bird lady?” Fiona said. “That sounds fun.”

“NO ONE is as much fun as Smokey!” Egg cried, eavesdropping and interrupting.

Madison laughed and explained to Aimee and Fiona. “Smokey is this man that Egg sees on his visits. He wears tie-dye shirts. Brags about his ten great-grandkids. Talks about World War II a lot, too.”

“Uh … is Smokey all covered with snow?” Drew yelled out, singing some more of the song.

Egg punched Drew in the shoulder. “Nice one, Drew boy,” he said. “Believe it or not, Smokey is ninety-one. He was just telling me that he climbed Mount Everest once and he skydived with his son until he was in his seventies. Plus, he’s a veteran of two wars.”

“Wow,” some other boys at the table said.

“Who does Ivy visit?” Fiona asked.

Madison rolled her eyes. “Someone perfect, just like her. Of course.”

“HA!” Aimee cackled. “Good one, Maddie.”

Madison put down her fork. “I wonder why Ivy even volunteers. Does she really care, deep down? I just heard her making fun of the people who live at The Estates.”

“What did she say?” Fiona asked.

“It’s more like what
didn’t
she say,” Madison said. “She let Rose and Joanie say the meanest things—and didn’t tell them to be quiet.”

“Maybe she agrees with them,” Aimee said with a mouthful of granola. “She’s a good actress, don’t forget. And she’s queen of the Fakers.”

“Yeah,” Madison said glumly, glancing back over at Ivy’s table. It was getting harder than hard to distinguish between her enemy’s many moods.

“Don’t kill me for saying this, but I don’t think Ivy is so evil all the time,” Fiona said, taking a bit of her salad. “She’s actually okay when she’s not around the drones.”

Madison nodded. “Yeah, I guess she is different when Rose and Joanie aren’t around.”

“What are you saying? Poison Ivy isn’t so bad? Maddie, you hate her!” Aimee said.

“I don’t really ‘hate’ anyone. Do I?” Madison asked. “Don’t worry, Aim. It’s not like I’m not starting an Ivy fan club or anything.”

A voice came over the loudspeaker. Kids participating in the holiday poinsettia sale were asked to meet up in the greenhouse.

“Aim, we have to go,” Fiona blurted. She looked across at Madison. “Sorry. Aimee and I have to go.”

“Where?” Madison asked. “You’re not selling plants, are you?”

“Um … no … we have to go to the … darkroom …” Fiona said.

Aimee elbowed Fiona in the ribs. “She meant we have to meet with a teacher,” Aimee recovered.

“Meet a teacher in the darkroom?” Madison asked, cracking a smile. “Who? Principal Bernard?”

Fiona and Aimee laughed. “Very funny, Maddie,” they said at practically the same time.

“No, seriously. You’re leaving me in the lunchroom alone?” Madison said, tapping her fork on the table.

“You’re not alone. There are like fifty other people here,” Aimee said.

“E me later?” Madison asked. She wouldn’t see either of her BFFs for the rest of the day. They didn’t have any afternoon classes together.

“I’ll be home from ballet late,” Aimee said. “I’ll try to e-mail or call when I get home.”

“Me, too,” Fiona said, picking up her books. “After soccer.”

Madison watched Aimee and Fiona rush off together. Since Drew and the rest of the boys at the table were engrossed in a boring conversation about race cars, Madison had no one left to talk to. She tried to eat more of her macaroni, but it had cooled. She hoped that dinner with Dad would be a better and happier meal.

Across the room, Ivy, Rose, and Joanie got up from their table and headed toward the exit doors located directly behind the orange table where Madison was sitting. Madison put down her head and pretended to be playing with her macaroni so she wouldn’t have to face any more of their snide remarks.

“See you later, Madison,” Ivy said as she walked by.

Rose and Joanie tittered.

“Later,” Madison said, nodding in Ivy’s direction.

Ivy nodded back and followed the drones out of the room. It looked odd to see them file away in reverse order. Usually, Ivy was the one leading follow-the-leader, but not today.

For a moment, everything about friendships at Far Hills seemed flipped around.

Madison wondered how long the weirdness could last.

French Toast, the restaurant Dad picked for Tuesday night’s dinner, was slower than slow. It took the waiter ten minutes to come over with any menus. When Dad asked for a second glass of water, he had to ask two people for refills before anyone even considered pouring one.

The decor was holiday tacky, too, Madison laughed to herself. They had a collection of stuffed Santas and bears in Santa caps all along one wall; and multicolored lights across the mantel of a stone fireplace. The air smelled like pine needle potpourri, sticky-sweet and burnt at the same time.

Somehow, in spite of the decorations (and smells) in the dining room, Madison was not feeling holiday spirited. Dad had canceled their dream ski vacation. How could she be feeling good about that—or anything else?

“I hear they have delicious food here,” Dad said, reading his menu. “I’m getting some calamari. Who wants to share?”

“Whatever,” Madison mumbled, reading hers. “I think I’m going to have a hamburger.”

“Here?” Dad said. “But this is fine food, Maddie. Don’t you want a pork chop or fish or a steak?”

“Dad …” Madison moaned.

“Fine, get whatever you want. I won’t tell you what to eat,” Dad said.

“Fine,” Madison said gruffly.

“Are you still mad at me about that ski trip?” Dad asked.

Madison looked over at him. “Not exactly
mad,
Dad. I love being stuck inside doing nothing for my whole winter vacation.”