buns.
“Cheese or no cheese?” Gilda asked.
Madison placed her tray on the counter. “No cheese, please,” she said, and moved along down the line with her plain Sloppy Joe. They were all out of strawberry yogurts, so she got banilla instead—vanilla and banana mixed. She’d missed all the good lunch selections.
After paying for her food, Madison turned into the noisy cafeteria and inspected the room for her friends. She started back toward the orange table in the rear. To her surprise, all her friends were sitting there.
Plus Ivy, Rose, and Joanie.
Madison almost dropped her tray.
“Maddie, over here!” Fiona chirped, shoving over so Madison could sit down. But there wasn’t any room on that side. All the boys were on that side. Madison walked around to the other end of the table.
There wasn’t any room there, either.
“I guess I’ll sit over there,” Madison said, moving toward a green table behind the orange one where everyone else was sitting.
Aimee quickly stood up. “No! Maddie, you can fit! Ivy, can you move down a little? You too, Rose.”
Ivy and Rose both pushed their trays down and made room so Madison could sit next to Aimee. They didn’t do it quietly, but they moved. Down at the other end, Egg, Drew, Chet, Hart, and Dan, the kid who was playing the Lion, were too busy playing spitball hockey to even look up.
Never in her life did Madison imagine she’d be sitting at the orange table in the back of the room between her best friend and best enemy. But as her gramma Helen always told her, “Never say never to anything.”
“Where were you?” Aimee asked. “Why are you late for lunch?”
Madison shrugged. “I had to help Mrs. Wing.”
Ivy interrupted. “She’s that computer teacher, right?”
Madison nodded and snapped open her yogurt top.
“That’s nice for you, I guess …” Ivy said. She leaned right over Madison’s tray to talk to Aimee. “Did I tell you that Mrs. Montefiore said we could go ahead and do a dance with our solo, Aimee?”
“What solo?” Madison asked.
“Oh, our duet,” Ivy clarified, sipping a juice. “Didn’t you hear us singing it the other day?”
Rose piped up. “It’ll be the best number in the whole show, Aimee. Your choreography is really good.”
Madison couldn’t believe Rose would ever compliment Aimee on her dance, but she did.
“You and Rose and Ivy are all dancing together?” Madison asked.
“Yeah,” Aimee replied.
“Well, I’m not really that good,” Rose mumbled. “But Aimee’s helping me out.”
“You are too good,” Aimee told her.
Madison looked over at Fiona desperately.
Was this really happening?
“Madison, what are you working on for the show?” Ivy asked. “I don’t see you at rehearsals much.”
“I’ve been busy with stage managing, Ivy,” Madison said. She couldn’t believe Ivy was sitting this close. Madison could tell she was wearing makeup.
“Nooooooooo!”
Across the table, Hart let out a wail. He’d lost his spitball hockey game.
“That wasn’t a penalty. Egg, you stink!” he cried.
Everyone stopped talking.
Hart looked around with a bashful smile.
Madison glanced over at Hart for a second and thought she saw him wink. But seventh-grade boys absolutely don’t wink, especially not in the middle of lunch with a million people around, do they? Madison wasn’t so sure.
The mere thought of Hart winking in her direction made her feel better about being at the table.
Ivy jostled Madison’s arm, and the yogurt cup almost tipped onto the Sloppy Joes.
“Oh, sorry, did I do that?” Ivy said.
Madison wanted to pour banilla on Ivy’s head.
“Hey, Ivy,” Egg yelled across the table. “We heard a rumor.”
Hart spoke up, too. “Yeah, Ivy, we heard a rumor. Are you having the cast party?”
Fiona was spacing out. “I haven’t heard anything. Is it true?”
“Well …” Ivy said coyly to the boys only. “Maybe.”
Madison turned to Poison Ivy. “You’re having the
“Cheese or no cheese?” Gilda asked.
Madison placed her tray on the counter. “No cheese, please,” she said, and moved along down the line with her plain Sloppy Joe. They were all out of strawberry yogurts, so she got banilla instead—vanilla and banana mixed. She’d missed all the good lunch selections.
After paying for her food, Madison turned into the noisy cafeteria and inspected the room for her friends. She started back toward the orange table in the rear. To her surprise, all her friends were sitting there.
Plus Ivy, Rose, and Joanie.
Madison almost dropped her tray.
“Maddie, over here!” Fiona chirped, shoving over so Madison could sit down. But there wasn’t any room on that side. All the boys were on that side. Madison walked around to the other end of the table.
There wasn’t any room there, either.
“I guess I’ll sit over there,” Madison said, moving toward a green table behind the orange one where everyone else was sitting.
Aimee quickly stood up. “No! Maddie, you can fit! Ivy, can you move down a little? You too, Rose.”
Ivy and Rose both pushed their trays down and made room so Madison could sit next to Aimee. They didn’t do it quietly, but they moved. Down at the other end, Egg, Drew, Chet, Hart, and Dan, the kid who was playing the Lion, were too busy playing spitball hockey to even look up.
Never in her life did Madison imagine she’d be sitting at the orange table in the back of the room between her best friend and best enemy. But as her gramma Helen always told her, “Never say never to anything.”
“Where were you?” Aimee asked. “Why are you late for lunch?”
Madison shrugged. “I had to help Mrs. Wing.”
Ivy interrupted. “She’s that computer teacher, right?”
Madison nodded and snapped open her yogurt top.
“That’s nice for you, I guess …” Ivy said. She leaned right over Madison’s tray to talk to Aimee. “Did I tell you that Mrs. Montefiore said we could go ahead and do a dance with our solo, Aimee?”
“What solo?” Madison asked.
“Oh, our duet,” Ivy clarified, sipping a juice. “Didn’t you hear us singing it the other day?”
Rose piped up. “It’ll be the best number in the whole show, Aimee. Your choreography is really good.”
Madison couldn’t believe Rose would ever compliment Aimee on her dance, but she did.
“You and Rose and Ivy are all dancing together?” Madison asked.
“Yeah,” Aimee replied.
“Well, I’m not really that good,” Rose mumbled. “But Aimee’s helping me out.”
“You are too good,” Aimee told her.
Madison looked over at Fiona desperately.
Was this really happening?
“Madison, what are you working on for the show?” Ivy asked. “I don’t see you at rehearsals much.”
“I’ve been busy with stage managing, Ivy,” Madison said. She couldn’t believe Ivy was sitting this close. Madison could tell she was wearing makeup.
“Nooooooooo!”
Across the table, Hart let out a wail. He’d lost his spitball hockey game.
“That wasn’t a penalty. Egg, you stink!” he cried.
Everyone stopped talking.
Hart looked around with a bashful smile.
Madison glanced over at Hart for a second and thought she saw him wink. But seventh-grade boys absolutely don’t wink, especially not in the middle of lunch with a million people around, do they? Madison wasn’t so sure.
The mere thought of Hart winking in her direction made her feel better about being at the table.
Ivy jostled Madison’s arm, and the yogurt cup almost tipped onto the Sloppy Joes.
“Oh, sorry, did I do that?” Ivy said.
Madison wanted to pour banilla on Ivy’s head.
“Hey, Ivy,” Egg yelled across the table. “We heard a rumor.”
Hart spoke up, too. “Yeah, Ivy, we heard a rumor. Are you having the cast party?”
Fiona was spacing out. “I haven’t heard anything. Is it true?”
“Well …” Ivy said coyly to the boys only. “Maybe.”
Madison turned to Poison Ivy. “You’re having the
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