Read Online Keep It Real (From the Files of Madison Finn, 19) by Laura Dower - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Laura Dower
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she heaved it over her shoulder and raced out of the media lab, taking two steps at a time down to the next class.
At the bottom of the staircase, Madison took a corner too fast, and the weight of her bag pulled her in the wrong direction.
Wham!
She slammed into someone coming from the opposite direction. Her bag dragged her to the ground. Everything inside spilled onto the floor and the other person’s books went tumbling, too.
“Finnster?”
Madison looked up and saw Hart looking down at her. He was rubbing his shoulder.
“Ouch. Your book bag attacked me,” he said. “What’s in there?”
Madison realized that both his and her stuff was everywhere: her laptop, his wallet, and lots of papers were scattered on the ground. Other kids stepped around the crash site. Kneeling down, she scrambled to get her hands on as much as she could without having her fingers stomped on.
“I’m such a klutz,” Madison said, pausing to put her head in her hands. “I can’t believe I whammed into you like that. I am SO sorry. And now look at this mess…”
Hart laughed. He kneeled down to retrieve his own books and wallet and to help her pick up her papers. “My dad would call this a happy accident. He always says profound things like that.”
“Huh?” Madison blurted out. She felt a blush coming on. Hart was definitely flirting again. Definitely. She could see it in his eyes this time. He never stopped smiling.
Madison continued to try to gather the items that had flown out of her bag. As Hart handed Madison a stack of loose-leaf paper, she grabbed her science notebook and a few stray pens.
“I think your laptop survived,” Hart said.
“Thanks,” Madison sighed. “I don’t know what I would do if my laptop was injured.”
“You could take it to a laptop hospital,” Hart said.
“Bah-dum ching!” Madison joked. “Gee, Hart, you should be a comedian,” she added, in her most sarcastic voice. Now she was really flirting, too.
“Is this yours?” Hart asked, holding up Madison’s black-and-white composition notebook from Mr. Gibbons’s class.
Madison gasped. Her journal! The way Hart was holding it she could see a couple of the pages folded over. What did those pages say? Madison strained to peek.
“I’ll take that!” she cried in a sudden burst of paranoia, grabbing the journal right out of Hart’s hands. One of the pages was completely exposed. Right there in black and white was written the name Madison Jones.
Had Hart seen that or any of the other dozens of name combinations scribbled in the same margin? That question put her tummy into instant knots. Madison was sweating just thinking about it.
Gulp.
With her notebook still clutched tightly to her side, Madison wished Hart a speedy good-bye. Of course, he wasn’t ready to go.
“So, have you been writing more?” Hart asked, indicating the notebook. “Do you like the journal project?”
“Um…um…huh?” Madison stammered. She couldn’t look him in the eyes.
“Are you heading to science?” Hart asked easily, checking his watch. “I hear Mr. Danehy is back.”
“I heard that, too,” Madison said. “If you’re going to class, why are you walking in this direction?”
Hart tossed his head. “I was going to drop something off…but I haven’t got time now.”
“Sorry,” Madison said. “My fault.”
“No prob,” Hart said. He smiled.
Madison wanted to smile, too, but she couldn’t. All she could think about was the journal, still tucked tightly under her armpit. With each passing moment she was becoming more and more convinced that of course Hart had seen the doodles, seen “Madison Jones,” and was right now planning a breakup with her. Of course, that would have made a lot more sense if he had actually been going out with her, but just the same—the gut-wrenching, embarrassing, and ghastly emotions were still there, all rolled into one.
Naturally, Hart didn’t say anything more about the book, which left Madison
At the bottom of the staircase, Madison took a corner too fast, and the weight of her bag pulled her in the wrong direction.
Wham!
She slammed into someone coming from the opposite direction. Her bag dragged her to the ground. Everything inside spilled onto the floor and the other person’s books went tumbling, too.
“Finnster?”
Madison looked up and saw Hart looking down at her. He was rubbing his shoulder.
“Ouch. Your book bag attacked me,” he said. “What’s in there?”
Madison realized that both his and her stuff was everywhere: her laptop, his wallet, and lots of papers were scattered on the ground. Other kids stepped around the crash site. Kneeling down, she scrambled to get her hands on as much as she could without having her fingers stomped on.
“I’m such a klutz,” Madison said, pausing to put her head in her hands. “I can’t believe I whammed into you like that. I am SO sorry. And now look at this mess…”
Hart laughed. He kneeled down to retrieve his own books and wallet and to help her pick up her papers. “My dad would call this a happy accident. He always says profound things like that.”
“Huh?” Madison blurted out. She felt a blush coming on. Hart was definitely flirting again. Definitely. She could see it in his eyes this time. He never stopped smiling.
Madison continued to try to gather the items that had flown out of her bag. As Hart handed Madison a stack of loose-leaf paper, she grabbed her science notebook and a few stray pens.
“I think your laptop survived,” Hart said.
“Thanks,” Madison sighed. “I don’t know what I would do if my laptop was injured.”
“You could take it to a laptop hospital,” Hart said.
“Bah-dum ching!” Madison joked. “Gee, Hart, you should be a comedian,” she added, in her most sarcastic voice. Now she was really flirting, too.
“Is this yours?” Hart asked, holding up Madison’s black-and-white composition notebook from Mr. Gibbons’s class.
Madison gasped. Her journal! The way Hart was holding it she could see a couple of the pages folded over. What did those pages say? Madison strained to peek.
“I’ll take that!” she cried in a sudden burst of paranoia, grabbing the journal right out of Hart’s hands. One of the pages was completely exposed. Right there in black and white was written the name Madison Jones.
Had Hart seen that or any of the other dozens of name combinations scribbled in the same margin? That question put her tummy into instant knots. Madison was sweating just thinking about it.
Gulp.
With her notebook still clutched tightly to her side, Madison wished Hart a speedy good-bye. Of course, he wasn’t ready to go.
“So, have you been writing more?” Hart asked, indicating the notebook. “Do you like the journal project?”
“Um…um…huh?” Madison stammered. She couldn’t look him in the eyes.
“Are you heading to science?” Hart asked easily, checking his watch. “I hear Mr. Danehy is back.”
“I heard that, too,” Madison said. “If you’re going to class, why are you walking in this direction?”
Hart tossed his head. “I was going to drop something off…but I haven’t got time now.”
“Sorry,” Madison said. “My fault.”
“No prob,” Hart said. He smiled.
Madison wanted to smile, too, but she couldn’t. All she could think about was the journal, still tucked tightly under her armpit. With each passing moment she was becoming more and more convinced that of course Hart had seen the doodles, seen “Madison Jones,” and was right now planning a breakup with her. Of course, that would have made a lot more sense if he had actually been going out with her, but just the same—the gut-wrenching, embarrassing, and ghastly emotions were still there, all rolled into one.
Naturally, Hart didn’t say anything more about the book, which left Madison
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