Only the Lonely (2 page)

Mom would love that.

In addition to the photos, Madison decided she would also keep an online record of her most important feelings, fears, and thoughts. Of course, most people would have called this a “journal,” but Madison thought that sounded way too obvious. Instead she just called it:
The Files of Madison Finn.

Madison had friend files. She had homework files. She had nothing-in-particular files. She classified, collected, controlled, and computed
everything.
Here, inside this delightful orange computer, Madison was in the process of creating password-protected
miles
of files. And she backed them all up on her ice-cream flash drive.

She opened a recent one.

Scary Dinners


That made her laugh. On the screen before her was a graph on which Madison had plotted Mom’s predictable fast-food dinners. After sixteen straight nights in a row of egg rolls, tacos, fried chicken, and other “scary” dinners, Madison was inspired to keep track. As of tonight, the graph showed pizza running neck and neck with Chinese food, with PB-&-J sandwiches lagging behind.

Tonight, Madison decided to open a brand new file in honor of her hour on TweenBlurt.com.

Only the Lonely


Madison closed her eyes for a second. What to write? Sometimes going online was great: all the people, all the chatter, all the things to click and search. But it was also a little lonely. She mused about what had happened to “Bigwheels” and why “Iluvcats” had just disappeared. Was it something she’d said?

Madison hoped in her heart of hearts that she’d get a hundred e-mails tomorrow! And if not, well … everyone in Far Hills would be home soon to fill in the gaps.

Madison longed for the speedy return of Aimee and Egg. She secretly wished that even Daddy would come home again.

She tapped her thoughts out on the keyboard.

Is absolutely everyone having a good summer except for me? I mean I went to Brazil for a nature documentary film location scout with Mom. Ever since she started working for Budge Films she makes nature shows. We saw lots of weird-looking tree frogs there. They were slimy and the truth is I was sicker than sick of the frogs and fast food and planes and strangers, especially strangers.


I wish Aimee and Egg were right here, right now, right away. I wish I had a brother or sister. I wish I wasn’t only the lonely. I wish seventh grade would just start already. Of course, I probably won’t be able to deal with the change. I never have before.


Rude Awakening:
I’m allergic to change.


I mean, I know I’m allergic to pollen, grasses, and mold spores. But change makes me break out into big hives. Just the thought of seventh grade gave me a giant pink welt right here on my shoulder.
Gross
.


Last summer after fifth grade Aimee and Egg were not far away at stupid camp. They were here with me, dancing in the sprinklers on Aimee’s lawn like we did every summer, getting cooled off, and laughing like we did every summer. We were laughing really hard about some things I can’t remember but I know they were great. I know we ate all the Dreamsicles we wanted and we watched scary old movies like
The Mummy.


Not this summer.


Mom would probably say that at least it’s a good thing that I’ve identified my bizarre allergy and maybe it just doesn’t matter if I fix it right now. All that matters is acknowledging it, right? The rest is just details, right? Mom says that we learn things in steps. So this is just step number one, I guess. This is just step number one in learning about life.


Lucky me.


I can’t wait for step number two.


The cursor blinked on the empty space. Madison stopped and stared at what she’d written so far. The screen went black.

Seriously? It was frozen
again?

Madison leaned down to scratch the top of Phin’s head.

In that moment, Madison decided she just didn’t care if she got the “safe to turn off your computer” message or not. She just pressed the power button and walked away.

Swwwwack!

As she turned, Madison crashed into a purple blow-up chair in the middle of the room. It squeaked as she landed on her backside. She plucked open the little plastic thingie that kept air in the chair—
Pssssssssssssss—
but capped it again quickly.

“Madison!” Mom yelled from downstairs.

It was time to go to bed. But this time, as she stood up, Madison lost her balance and fell backward.

Spppplat!

Madison groaned. She wanted her friends, but thanks to camp they were gone. She wanted her Dad, but thanks to the divorce he was gone. How could she ever handle a switch into seventh grade when she kept slipping
backward
?

“Rowroooo!” Phin growled. He could always tell when Madison was upset.

Madison pulled her body up and into the bathroom. Her brain was stuck in
REWIND
, but she had to find
FAST FORWARD
and get through this moment.

At this point, Madison Francesca Finn wasn’t sure she could survive the end of the summer, let alone the beginning of a new school year.

T
HE NEXT MORNING, MADISON
woke up to wet kisses from Phin. Smelly kisses of course. Dog breath.

“Oh, gross. Phin get off! Yeah, I love you, too.” Madison gazed into his brown pug eyes. “Are you trying to tell me something, dog? Like W-A-L-K maybe?”

Phin danced on his back paws, jumping at the bed. Even Phin knew how to spell.

Madison wanted to lollygag around, but nature was calling—calling Phin, anyway. She pulled off her orange polka-dotted pajamas and slipped into short overalls so she and Phin could make a quick trip around the block.

Morning walks with Phin were the easiest. Madison walked out the porch door, down the corner to Grove Street, up a few more streets, and then around the block to the intersection before turning back home.

But for some reason this morning, Phin was being difficult. He wouldn’t pee, so Madison took a detour onto Ridge Road, the scenic route.

It smelled like honeysuckle. Phin’s nose started sniffing a mile a minute. Madison’s eyes scanned the neighborhood. Everything looked different here from the way she remembered. She even saw a new-looking green house where the old Martin family had lived for years. Everyone thought that house was haunted. But today it was a whole new house, freshly painted and all.

Just as Madison was staring at the green house, a young girl walked out onto its front steps.

Madison knew she should look away, but she kept staring.

The girl stared straight back.

Madison stared some more and she kept smiling—it was easy to be friendly at a distance. But after a few moments of shared stares, the girl started to walk toward her. That’s when Madison panicked. It was never as easy to be friendly up close.

She felt the urge to run, run,
ruuuuuuun
! Her brain was screaming: GOOOOOOOOOOOO!

And Madison could have dashed away from that green house lickety-split, too, if it hadn’t been for Phin. Just when she thought she’d gotten a head start down the block, the pug turned and tugged her right back to where she had started.

“Hi!” the stranger said, cheerfully. She walked right up to Madison, smiling at Phin. He loved the attention.

“I’m Fiona. Do you live around here?”

Madison managed a feeble “Uh-huh,” in response.

“Oh cool, do you live on Ridge Road?” Fiona asked.

“I live … uh …” Madison pointed behind her, in the general direction of Blueberry Street. It wasn’t her most eloquent moment of all time.

Suddenly a woman called out from the door of the green house. “Fiona! Let’s go, young lady!”

“Yeeps!” The girl smiled at Madison. “I gotta run! See you around the neighborhood?” She disappeared again up the path, almost as quietly as she’d appeared, waving the whole way. “Nice to meet you—sort of!”

Madison waved too. Then she waited a moment to see if the girl would reappear, but no one came outside. Madison stared at the big brown duck painted on the side of the family’s mailbox and read the swirly letters:
THE WATERS FAMILY
.

As she and Phin made tracks back home to 5 Blueberry Street, Madison wondered when she would see Fiona again.

“Rowroooo!” Phin agreed.

As soon as they arrived home, Madison and Phin noticed an icky-sticky charred smell coming from the kitchen. The pug’s nose was sniffing wildly at the air.

“Mom?” Madison hurried inside. “Is something burning?”

She stopped dead in her tracks. Had someone stolen Fast Food Mother in the middle of the night and replaced her with Cook-Me-Breakfast Mother? Mom was cooking? She was even wearing a tacky “Kiss the Cook” apron.

“Have a seat!” Mom announced, shoving a plate of very yellow scrambled eggs and very burned toast in front of Madison.

It was the morning of surprises.

“Gee, Mom,” Madison said, a little stunned by the greeting, and the smell. Then she added, “They seem a little, well … gold, actually. What’s up with that?”

Madison knew what was really up; Mom had forgotten to add milk again. One time Mom had tried to make lasagna, which came out more like red soup, but Madison had just slurped and said nothing. Madison didn’t see the point in hurting Mom’s feelings just because her pasta was a little runny.

Mom beamed. “Sweetie, today is a special day just for you and so I thought breakfast was a good way to start off. What do you think? Today we can go over to the Far Hills Shoppes and get you some new clothes for seventh grade. I know starting junior high is a big deal and I know I have been away a lot on business lately and, well, won’t it be nice to spend a little time together?”

Usually Madison was good at predicting Mom’s sudden bursts of “nice.” But not this morning.

“Come on. What gives, Mom?” Madison laughed. “What’s the catch?”

“Catch? There is no catch. Don’t you
want
to go shopping?” Mom asked.

Madison scooped up a forkful of food and nodded. She would have said something, but she didn’t want to gag on the eggs.

As soon as they’d cleared away the breakfast dishes, Madison filled Phin’s water dish and waited for Mom to put on her eyeliner, lipstick, and concealer. That usually took a while, so Madison visited her computer keyboard in the meantime. She could check her e-mail, at least.

There was no mail.

Discouraged, Madison opened a brand new file folder and began to type.

Fiona


Met this new girl over on Ridge Road. She has long black braids and cool clothes. Her name is Fiona Waters and she was very friendly and I think she wanted to be my friend. Is that possible? She looked my age and she must have just moved in because I know the house she lives in. Way, way long ago this other family the Martins lived there.


I wonder what happened to the Martins?


How can people just suddenly disappear and then appear in the neighborhood from out of nowhere? Everything really does change when you aren’t paying attention.


I of course clammed up the minute Fiona said “hi” because I am useless around strangers. I wanted to run away. It’s like I had the words to talk right here on the tip of my tongue, but no luck. I’m stuck. Sometimes I think there’s this master conspiracy to keep me tongue-tied and friendless, for the rest of the summer. I wish Aimee would just come home, already!


At least I have Phinnie.