All That Glitters (From the Files of Madison Finn, 20) (16 page)

“Uh … I know you said before,” Larry stammered. “But I … uh … what is this film being used for again? I wasn’t really listening.”

The room burst into laughter.

Principal Bernard tapped the microphone. “Okay, Mr. Dooray,” he said. “Take your seat, please. And I’ll see you in my office fifth period.”

The room hissed with more laughter as Larry sat back down.

“Way to go, Larry,” another ninth-grade boy shouted, fist raised in the air.

Madison and her friends giggled so hard that some of the boys snorted. Madison had never seen the student body so pumped up, at least not within recent memory.

After a few more moments of confusion, Principal Bernard finally got the order and quiet he was looking for. He handed the microphone to Julian.

Julian’s voice sliced through the noise in the auditorium. Everyone stopped whispering. All the students wanted—no, needed—to know what part they were going to be playing in the great documentary-film experiment.

“Before we get into the film schedules and all that,” Julian said, “I think it’s a great idea if we talk a little bit about why we’re here. After all, we were scheduled to go to another school for interviews and filming, but those plans changed at the last minute just last week.”

Madison felt a lump in her throat. Aimee elbowed her in the side. Fiona giggled. Lindsay covered her mouth. They all knew what was coming next.

Oh, no. Please don’t say it….

“Thanks to the efforts of our executive producer, Francine Finn, and her daughter, Madison Finn,” Julian said, peering out into the crowd. “Where are you, Miss Finn?”

Madison got a heavy feeling in her gut. Was everyone staring? Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hart turn. She couldn’t look at him—or anyone—just then. She wished her seat had an escape hatch. Thank goodness there was no spotlight beaming on to her head. That would have made things much worse.

“Getting back to my point,” Julian continued, waving to Madison once he located her. “The main reason we are here is to ask you kids a series of questions about school life. We’ll film you when we do it, and the footage from those interviews will be reviewed and edited. Some parts of the interviews will appear in a short film for an educational conference next spring.”

“So this isn’t for movie theaters?” some kid called out from the back of the auditorium.

Julian shook his head and laughed. “I’m afraid not. This is really for a very small audience—but an important one. Everything you have to tell us is being compiled for the film and a book.”

“Could you tell us anything more about the project and the book?” Assistant Principal Goode asked.

“Let’s see. We’re working with a special grant to produce a survey of junior-high-school behavior across the country. Your school is just one of several places where we’re stopping to film. Your input is invaluable. You won’t see your face or name at the multiplex, but you’ll be an anonymous resource in a major study of kids your age.”

Out in the audience, Egg yawned. “What a bore,” he mumbled.

Aimee batted him on the head. “What do you know? All you care about is video games.”

Madison and the others—including a few of the boys—snickered.

“Well, that seems to cover the basics. Thank you, Mr. Lodge,” Principal Bernard said, moving to the microphone as Julian stepped back. “But, students, let’s remember that you cannot participate and your footage will not be used unless your parents sign the proper release.”

The sound of shuffling paper was deafening as kids searched for their permission slips among the many flyers that had been passed around.

“Okay, students,” Principal Bernard said. “Does everyone have a schedule?”

The sound of shuffling got even louder.

“Oh, no,” Madison groaned. “They grouped us alphabetically, like in homeroom….”

Alphabetical grouping meant that Madison would probably end up filming with her nemesis, Poison Ivy Daly. Why did they always get grouped together, even though the first initial of their names wasn’t the same?

“Look what it says here,” Lindsay said. “
Filming will take place in either the school media lab or the cafeteria.
How boring! I was kind of hoping they’d film us at the beach or something.”

“Or Paris!” Fiona joked.

“Get real,” Drew said.

“Hey, Maddie, we’re not in any of the same film groups,” Hart said.

Everyone stopped for a moment when Hart said that. Although it was common knowledge that he and Madison were now “in like,” it was still a big deal whenever he paid any kind of special attention to Madison—like now. Madison was only just getting used to it.

“Oh, really?” Madison said, and looked at her feet.

Up on stage, Principal Bernard paced, tugging at his collar while Julian Lodge continued to answer students’ questions. After a very drawn out question-and-answer session, Assembly was finally dismissed.

Conversations flowed right into the hall. The next-period bell was about to ring. Students rushed to grab their books and notebooks. Madison, Aimee, Fiona, and Lindsay migrated back toward the lockers like everyone else.

“I don’t know how I feel about being on video,” Lindsay whined. “Doesn’t the camera put on fifteen pounds? I have to wear black so I’ll look thinner.”

“What are you worrying about that for?” Fiona said. “You look great.”

Lindsay bowed her head. “Thanks, Fiona.”

Ivy and her drones, Rose and Joan, walked by, talking about the film.

“Well, I know
exactly
what I’m going to wear,” Ivy announced in a loud voice. “I have that little purple tee with matching sweater and those embroidered cargo pants with the buttons on the cuffs and my Vans. I just got three new pairs so I could match them to all my outfits.”

Madison stuck her finger in her mouth and made a barf face, to the delight of her friends.

Hart, Egg, Drew, Chet, and Dan lumbered down the hall toward the girls. The boys bragged about which one of them would be the “star” of the video shoot. Naturally, Egg crowed the loudest. He always did everything the loudest.

Aimee nudged Madison. “So wait. I’m confused, Maddie. Where’s your mom? Didn’t you say she had something to do with all this?”

“Oh,” Madison replied, “she does. But she guaranteed me that she’s totally behind the scenes. She told me she wouldn’t be anywhere near the school. Thank goodness.”

After the class period bell rang, talk of the documentary died down a little bit. Madison and Hart trotted off to Mr. Danehy’s science class together. As they walked along, Madison felt Hart bump into her a few times—on purpose. Any reaffirmation (no matter how small or bumpy) of the fact that Hart liked Madison was encouraging.

Upon entering the science lab, however, Madison’s mood shifted significantly. Poison Ivy held court off to the side of the room with Rose and Joan fawning over her, as usual. Ivy’s pink cell phone was out on the desk beside her makeup case. The only thing missing was Ivy’s science notebook, Madison noticed. Of course, Ivy didn’t have to bring her own notes. She’d just steal Madison’s notes instead.

Hart sat down in his usual chair at the back of the room. The bell rang, and Madison slid into her seat next to Ivy. The drones retreated.

“Last time I checked it was science class,” Madison said under her breath. “Not beauty shop.”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” Ivy said, putting away her makeup kit and phone. “Can I look on at your notes today?”

Madison chuckled to herself.
So predictable.

“Why? Didn’t you finish your part of the lab questions?” Madison asked, knowing what the answer would be.

“Actually, no,” Ivy said, producing a blank homework sheet. “I just didn’t have time. Anyway, who cares about homework when we’re all going to be in a documentary? I figured that you’d let me share your answers. You know I’d do the same for you.”

Madison sighed. She took out her own filled-in sheet of questions from the homework and passed it to Ivy.

“You can copy mine today,” Madison said, reluctantly. “But next time, Ivy, I swear, you have to face Mr. Danehy on your own. I won’t help you.”

“Yeah, sure,” Ivy said, quickly writing down Madison’s answers on her own work sheet as if they were her own.

Madison was relieved that class went by quicker than quick. She couldn’t stand sitting near Ivy Daly, or putting up with her attitude, for much longer. As soon as the bell rang, Madison leaped from her seat and made a beeline for the door.

Hart raced to the door, too. They walked out at the same time.

“I can’t stop thinking about this film thing. What are you going to wear?” Hart asked.

Madison laughed.

“What?”

“
You’re
worried about how you’ll look at the video shoot?” Madison asked. “You sound like Ivy.”

“Hey,” Hart said, as he struck a pose and did a classic Ivy imitation.

Madison stopped short. “You know what, Hart? I think the entire school has lost its mind.”

Hart had been joking, but he seemed a little offended by Madison’s quips. Even so, she didn’t feel like taking anything back. Didn’t Hart and everyone else know that the docudrama being made was based on a bunch of boring, ordinary questions about boring, ordinary things?

“There she is! Maddie!”

Madison turned quickly. She nearly knocked Hart’s book bag right off his shoulder. Then she nearly fainted.

“M—M—Mom?”

Madison gulped. What was Mom doing here?

“Hello, Hart,” Mom said with a wink.

Madison wanted to die. A wink?

“Hello, Mrs. Finn,” Hart replied politely.

Had he seen the wink? Mom was about to ask them a question or say something, but just at that moment a crowd of kids pushed into the hall from one of the other classrooms. It was a case of perfect timing (or at least perfect timing for Madison). Fiona and Aimee led the pack.

“Mrs. Finn!” Aimee cried. She ran over and gave Madison’s mom a hug.

“Aimee! Fiona! How are you both?” Mom asked.

“We’re great, Mrs. Finn….” Fiona started to say. But Madison interrupted.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” Madison asked.

Mom reached out and squeezed Madison’s shoulder. “Well, there’s been a change of plan, honey bear,” she said with a nonchalant shrug. “It couldn’t be helped.”

Honey bear?
Madison cringed when Mom called her that in front of her friends. She felt four years old.

“It turns out that the director wants the producer on site for the shoot, so I guess that means I’ll be around after all….” Mom said.

“That is so cool, Mrs. Finn. You’ll be in school with us?” Fiona cried.

“Wow, Maddie!” Aimee said.

“Wow? Yeah. Wow,” Madison said in a low voice. “But wait a sec, Mom, you won’t be here for the whole shoot, right?”

“Yes, actually, I will,” Mom replied quickly.

“Mom, you’re kidding.”

“No, honey bear, I’m not kidding,” Mom said, shaking her head. “That’s the way the ball bounces, I guess. But it will be fun, fun, fun!”

The way the ball bounces? Fun, fun, fun?

Gack.

Sometimes Mom said things that sounded so outer-limits embarrassing. It was bad enough that she said those things, but why did she always have to say them in front of Madison’s friends? Why did she have to be there, at school, right now? Why? Why? WHY?

It took every ounce of Madison’s energy to keep from screaming.

W
HENEVER IT CAME TO
work projects, Madison always tried to be Mom’s biggest fan and biggest supporter. But this week, Madison wasn’t ready to be a cheerleader for Mom’s work. Not at FHJH. Not in front of her friends or her crush, and especially not in front of the enemy.

After school on Tuesday, as Madison turned the corner on to Blueberry Street, she came to an important realization.

It was time for a Mom boycott.

Madison knew that Mom couldn’t help her hectic work and filming schedule, or the decisions made by Julian Lodge. But why hadn’t Mom warned Madison about the fact that this documentary might be filmed at Madison’s school? She
had
to have known.

Phin jumped up to say hello as Madison walked through the front door. She scooped him up and whispered to him about the boycott, as if he might even understand. Sometimes it was true that Phinnie could read Madison’s mind. Could he read it right now?

Naturally, Mom wasn’t home. Madison had left her at the school, setting up with Julian Lodge for the next day. On the counter in the kitchen Madison spotted a note written on the back of a scrap of paper.

M,

Call Daddy. He wants to see you Thurs. for dinner.

Love,

Mom

xoxo

Madison crumpled up the paper and tossed it across the room, missing the wastebasket. She grabbed the kitchen phone and speed-dialed Dad.

“Hello, there!”

It was Dad’s way-too-perky answering machine that picked up.

“Hey, Dad,” Madison mumbled after the beep. “Mom said you called … about dinner … Um … Thursday night is okay, I guess. Can we try that new Mexican place near you? … Um … Call me back. Bye.”

She hung up the phone and poked her head into the fridge for a snack before calling Phinnie to take him for a quick walk.

When she got back from walking Phinnie, Madison went right upstairs to her room. It took only a few moments to boot up her orange laptop and get on to the TweenBlurt.com website. Madison had a few e-mails waiting for her.

The first was from Dad, about the Thursday dinner. Madison hit
REPLY
and told him the same things she’d said on the phone message. She couldn’t wait to talk to and see him in person. Sometimes Dad was good at helping Madison understand her bad feelings about Mom.