there must be a nest inside. A hawk made lazy circles overhead.
The cabin door squeaked loudly. It was silent inside, just the whisper of a cool breeze through the screens. The air still smelled like rain. Madison wondered if maybe there would be another storm tonight. She hoped not. The talent show was later that night and no one wanted a cancellation.
Madison changed into another pair of faded Levi’s and wiped the remaining mud off the sleeves of her fleece. She looked out the window. Way off in the distance, everyone was eating their lunches. She didn’t want to go back.
Why?
Madison sat down on the bottom bunk and opened up her orange notebook.
FILE: Hiding Out
We have talent show practice in a little while. I don’t want to go. I would much rather hide out right here, wedged somewhere between the bed and the wall, and just wait it out until the trip is done. Someone will bring me dinner and water, right? LOL.
Me, Aimee, Lindsay, Fiona, and Stacey are singing this dumb friendship ballad and I’m so afraid everyone will laugh at us. I’m not worried about my outfit anymore—I’m worried about the actual singing. Help!
Rude Awakening: If I can’t lip-synch, I’m SUNK.
Plus, we haven’t been away from Far Hills for very long at all and I actually feel homesick. How is that possible? I miss Mom and Dad and of course Phinnie most of all.
We have to go climb this huge tower tomorrow. Now tell me what is the point in that? I’d rather fall in the mud than
“What are you doing here?” a voice said. Madison nearly dropped her notebook and pen. Without even thinking, she shoved them into the bottom bunk sleeping bag. Ivy Daly was standing in the doorway of the cabin.
“You scared me,” Madison said breathlessly.
“What’s that?” Ivy said. “You are in big trouble.”
“W-why? I didn’t do anything,” Madison stammered. “What are you talking about?”
“What are you doing here?” Ivy asked again.
“What are YOU doing here?” Madison asked.
“I asked you first,” Ivy snapped.
“I asked permission to be here,” Madison said. “So there. And you?”
“None of your business,” Ivy said.
“So why am I in trouble and you’re not?” Madison asked.
“Just forget it,” Ivy said, reaching into her own suitcase and pulling something out. “I won’t tell Mrs. Goode that I saw you.”
“Is that some kind of threat?” Madison said, smoothing out the bunk where she was sitting. She slowly pulled her notebook out of the strange sleeping bag.
“Isn’t that Stacey’s sleeping bag?” Ivy asked. “What are you doing?”
“None of your business,” Madison said.
“Well…I don’t have to waste my time talking to you,” Ivy said. Her voice was like needles. She paused to look in a small mirror on the wall and flounced her red hair. Then she continued out the screen door, running back toward the picnic area.
Poison Ivy will probably tell the drones or someone that she found someone in the cabin, Madison thought. She knew it was time to go back and save herself any embarrassment about her disappearance. Madison also wanted to tell Stacey what had happened so no one would accuse her of going through someone else’s stuff. Ivy was the kind of person who would accuse.
Madison plucked her duffel off the top bunk and shoved the orange notebook deep inside her folded sweatshirt. Someone would have to tear the bag apart and dump everything out to find the notebook there.
Back at lunch, Madison’s friends sat clumped together in a semicircle on the grass. They were lying on their stomachs, planning the talent show “routine.” Aimee was choreographing. Fiona was dividing the song into parts.
“Maddie!” Fiona shouted. “Where were you? We’ve got half the song planned. You’re background vocals, as requested.”
For a quiet girl, Lindsay had a superstar voice. So she and Fiona had the lead singing parts. Aimee had one chorus and a dance solo.
“Wow,” Madison said.
The cabin door squeaked loudly. It was silent inside, just the whisper of a cool breeze through the screens. The air still smelled like rain. Madison wondered if maybe there would be another storm tonight. She hoped not. The talent show was later that night and no one wanted a cancellation.
Madison changed into another pair of faded Levi’s and wiped the remaining mud off the sleeves of her fleece. She looked out the window. Way off in the distance, everyone was eating their lunches. She didn’t want to go back.
Why?
Madison sat down on the bottom bunk and opened up her orange notebook.
FILE: Hiding Out
We have talent show practice in a little while. I don’t want to go. I would much rather hide out right here, wedged somewhere between the bed and the wall, and just wait it out until the trip is done. Someone will bring me dinner and water, right? LOL.
Me, Aimee, Lindsay, Fiona, and Stacey are singing this dumb friendship ballad and I’m so afraid everyone will laugh at us. I’m not worried about my outfit anymore—I’m worried about the actual singing. Help!
Rude Awakening: If I can’t lip-synch, I’m SUNK.
Plus, we haven’t been away from Far Hills for very long at all and I actually feel homesick. How is that possible? I miss Mom and Dad and of course Phinnie most of all.
We have to go climb this huge tower tomorrow. Now tell me what is the point in that? I’d rather fall in the mud than
“What are you doing here?” a voice said. Madison nearly dropped her notebook and pen. Without even thinking, she shoved them into the bottom bunk sleeping bag. Ivy Daly was standing in the doorway of the cabin.
“You scared me,” Madison said breathlessly.
“What’s that?” Ivy said. “You are in big trouble.”
“W-why? I didn’t do anything,” Madison stammered. “What are you talking about?”
“What are you doing here?” Ivy asked again.
“What are YOU doing here?” Madison asked.
“I asked you first,” Ivy snapped.
“I asked permission to be here,” Madison said. “So there. And you?”
“None of your business,” Ivy said.
“So why am I in trouble and you’re not?” Madison asked.
“Just forget it,” Ivy said, reaching into her own suitcase and pulling something out. “I won’t tell Mrs. Goode that I saw you.”
“Is that some kind of threat?” Madison said, smoothing out the bunk where she was sitting. She slowly pulled her notebook out of the strange sleeping bag.
“Isn’t that Stacey’s sleeping bag?” Ivy asked. “What are you doing?”
“None of your business,” Madison said.
“Well…I don’t have to waste my time talking to you,” Ivy said. Her voice was like needles. She paused to look in a small mirror on the wall and flounced her red hair. Then she continued out the screen door, running back toward the picnic area.
Poison Ivy will probably tell the drones or someone that she found someone in the cabin, Madison thought. She knew it was time to go back and save herself any embarrassment about her disappearance. Madison also wanted to tell Stacey what had happened so no one would accuse her of going through someone else’s stuff. Ivy was the kind of person who would accuse.
Madison plucked her duffel off the top bunk and shoved the orange notebook deep inside her folded sweatshirt. Someone would have to tear the bag apart and dump everything out to find the notebook there.
Back at lunch, Madison’s friends sat clumped together in a semicircle on the grass. They were lying on their stomachs, planning the talent show “routine.” Aimee was choreographing. Fiona was dividing the song into parts.
“Maddie!” Fiona shouted. “Where were you? We’ve got half the song planned. You’re background vocals, as requested.”
For a quiet girl, Lindsay had a superstar voice. So she and Fiona had the lead singing parts. Aimee had one chorus and a dance solo.
“Wow,” Madison said.
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