Caught in the Web (5 page)

On the other side of Ivy, Hart sat perched on his lab stool, nose in his notebook. Madison tried to catch his eye, just to say hello, but she couldn’t see him and he couldn’t see her. Every time she leaned forward, Ivy leaned forward. Whenever she pushed backward, Ivy pushed back, too.

Hart was out of reach and out of sight.

The worst part about Hart being so close and yet so far was all the secondhand listening. Ivy and Hart were having one of those drippy, flirty conversations.

“Whassup?”

“Not much. Whassup with you?”

“Nothing.”

“So … what’s going on?”

“Nothing. What’s going on with—”

Drip, drip, DRIP!

Madison screamed inside her own head. She couldn’t understand why Hart was so nice to Ivy. Was he worked up over Ivy’s red, flowing hair? Was he under some kind of weird spell? (It was Halloween, after all.)

Or worst of all—did he like her?

That would be a real nightmare.

Five minutes after class should have begun, their regular teacher Mr. Danehy, still hadn’t arrived. A joker standing in the middle of the room said there was some kind of ten-minute rule they could follow if the teacher wasn’t there soon. No teacher after ten minutes meant class was automatically canceled. Madison wished for that. It would be like getting a “get out of class free” card, only better. It meant escape from Poison Ivy.

Chet took the delay as another opportunity to stand up in front of the class and act like a clown. He liked to pretend he was the teacher, testing his bad imitation of Mr. Danehy’s unidentifiable accent.

In the middle of all the fuss, the door to room 411 opened with a whoosh.

Chet froze. He thought he’d been caught red-handed in the act of impersonating a teacher.

But Mr. Danehy wasn’t the one standing there. It was a substitute teacher from central casting. And he was taller than tall.

Everyone scurried into their seats and shut up.

The big guy who’d arrived on the scene was wearing an average-looking white shirt, loose green tie, and khaki pants. But he was anything but ordinary. He leaned against the doorway casually so his head almost hit the top of the frame. Madison figured he must be seven feet tall.

“Hello, seventh-grade science class,” the big guy grunted as he entered, eyes scanning the room. Everyone in class nodded back like a bunch of robots. They weren’t sure who this was, but they knew he wasn’t someone to mess with. “I’m Mr. Stein,” he said gruffly, writing it up on the board.
“S-t-e-i-n.”

He stepped back with a clop, kicking a wadded-up piece of paper on the floor. His hair was a jet-black helmet. The only thing missing was bolts in his neck.

“Did you say you were Mr. Stein?” Chet blurted. “As in Frank-en-stein?” He chuckled at his own joke.

Mr. Stein chuckled right back. “Not Frank.
Bob.”

“Ha!” Chet burst out laughing. “That’s funny!”

“Yeah, well,” Mr. Stein continued. “I’m the funny science sub. What can I say? Now, let’s get to work.”

The rest of the class laughed out loud as Mr. Stein told a couple more jokes about werewolves. Then he asked everyone to pull out their textbooks. He wrote the formal assignment from Mr. Danehy on the board.

Read pages 101 to 151.

“I know that’s a lot for thirty minutes, so do as much reading as is humanly possible,” Mr. Stein urged, shuffling a few papers in front of him. “But no talking, okay?” He sat down at Mr. Danehy’s desk with a thunk.

Chet leaned over to Hart and whispered, “Am I crazy, or is this guy a walking science experiment?”

Madison sighed audibly. “Shhh!” She opened her textbook to do the reading. There had been enough monstrous moments for one day.

A few minutes later, however, kids got restless. First they started to mumble. Despite Mr. Stein’s instructions, whispering came over the room like a breeze. Madison was trying as hard as she could
not
to listen to any of it, but she couldn’t help overhearing Ivy’s whispers to Hart because they were just a foot away.

“Hart, are you asking anyone to the Halloween dance?” Ivy was using her soft, sweet voice.

“Nah,” Hart answered. “I’m just gonna go with some friends.”

Ivy leaned in closer. “You can ask someone if you want. To the dance, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Hart said. “But I don’t wanna.”

“Do you wanna help on a dance committee?” Ivy asked. “You were at the meeting, weren’t you? What task team are you on?”

“Not sure yet,” he said.

“Why don’t you help with decorations, Hart? You could help hang up stuff. I bet you’d be really good. That’s the committee I’m on.”

Madison thought she saw Ivy press her leg against Hart’s leg, but she wasn’t so sure. Were there rules about that? Hart’s knee looked a little jumpy.

He cleared his throat. “Did you say decorations? Well … that sounds kinda … well … not for me. Thanks anyway.”

“You could do the scary hallway, Hart. That’s an important job.”

“I guess—look—”

“Please,” Ivy begged. “Pretty, pretty,
pretty
please.”

Madison knew Poison Ivy was using her whole bag of tricks to get Hart on her side. She even smelled like flowered perfume. Ivy knew 101 ways to get boys to do things. She’d say
anything
to get what she wanted.

“Okay, okay,” Hart said. “I guess I could be on a decoration committee. Just cool out, all right? I gotta do this science now.”

Madison couldn’t hear the rest of what was being said—only that Ivy laughed. And Hart laughed right back.

Was he laughing at her or with her?

And there was his knee, still bouncing up and down like a jackhammer. Was he nervous? Having a seizure? Madison dreaded the thought that Hart was actually in the middle of liking Poison Ivy Daly right there in front of Mr. Stein and everyone else in science class. Madison couldn’t take her eyes off that leg.

“Hey! What are
you
looking at?” Ivy snarled. She’d caught Madison staring. She
always
caught Madison staring. Ivy flipped her red hair and leaned in. “It’s rude to stare, you know. You’re being
rude,
Madison.”

But Hart’s legs were still moving—
bounce, bounce, bounce.

Madison secretly wished he would just fall off his stool.

The Dance


Rude Awakening
: This Halloween is turning into Shalloween.


They should put warning labels on people. Since Ivy joined the decorating team, the Halloween dance is doomed. She sits in our meetings with her pink smartphone sticking out of her bag and her nose stuck up in the air and I could just scream! Anytime anyone said anything, she was like, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”


Not only that, but I saw her outside the cafeteria (she didn’t see me) talking to this cute boy, Nick, about helping with the dance. She wanted to know if he had a date. A DATE?


There’s no dating! This dance is for EVERYONE, not just couples. Right???


I wonder why Hart hasn’t called me Finnster in a long time. Has he forgotten? I know I hate it when he calls me that, but I kinda miss it.


M
ADISON HIT SAVE AND
looked up to see the clock on top of Mrs. Wing’s filing cabinets.

It was two forty-eight.

She had twelve minutes to go before the last bell of the day rang. Today was one of the most anticipated soccer games of the school season—the one scheduled against Far Hills’ biggest rival school, Dunn Manor. Madison was meeting Aimee down at the lockers right after the final bell. Most of the seventh grade would be in attendance, screaming and rooting for their favorite infielders. They wanted to cheer the loudest. Aimee was even skipping her dance troupe practice for today’s game.

It had been a hugely successful soccer season for Fiona and the rest of the Far Hills Rangers. The entire team was touted as an early contender for the district championships, and today’s match was supposed to be closer than close. The only minor problem was the rain. The Far Hills soccer field would be a little muddy, since it had been drizzling all day. Madison didn’t mind, but Aimee was obsessing about her hair frizzing.

“Bummer! I can’t believe it’s raining.” Aimee groaned, opening her locker. Inside she had a mirror glued to the door. She combed her hair and applied a dab of all-natural lip gloss. She extended the container to Madison. “Try some.”

Madison shook her head. “Since when do you wear makeup?”

“Gloss is not
really
considered makeup,” Aimee said. “Besides, this company doesn’t test on animals. So it’s cool. And it tastes like candy.”

Madison stuck her finger into the little pot of gloss. It was better than the strawberry kiwi smooch stuff she’d used in the past. She smacked her lips. They did shimmer. And they tasted like purple lollipops.

Aimee brushed her blond hair some more. Madison just laughed. “What’s the point, Aimee We’re just going to get wet anyhow.”

Madison adjusted her own ponytail and Aimee closed her locker. Dozens upon dozens of students, parents, and teachers were moving out the front doors down to the soccer field.

Even with the light rain, seventh, eighth
and
ninth graders showed up. Most kids ignored the drizzle, but parents sat holding umbrellas. The game hadn’t started yet. Players from both teams were milling about on the field.

Madison flailed her arms to catch Fiona’s attention, but Fiona didn’t see. She was in the middle of pulling up her shin guards. Madison pulled her hand down quickly so no one would spot her waving to someone who wasn’t waving back.

“Go, Far Hills! Go, Fiona!” Aimee screeched. She would have danced around, too, but it was very damp and cramped where they were sitting. Instead she just twirled her hips and screamed.

Aimee’s screeches and moves were as embarrassing to Madison as her own waving incident. Every time Aimee said something or did something, Madison was sure kids turned around to stare. She wanted to dive under the bleachers—and run back to her locker.

“Look! There’s Egg and Chet!” Aimee yelled their names.
“EGG! CHET!”

They didn’t hear. They were down closer to the field, talking to a couple of seventh-grade girls. Chet had his hands in his pockets, and one girl was tugging on his sleeve. Madison couldn’t hear them but she knew exactly what they were talking about. It was like the Ivy-and-Hart conversation in science class.

Madison wished that she could learn to flirt like Ivy and the girls who were talking to Egg and Chet.

The Rangers were huddled in a semicircle by the sideline bench. The opposing team, the Mallards, did the same, arms locked, shirts dripping wet. The only difference between the two huddles was that the Rangers were outfitted in blue and white while the Mallards were sporting red-and-gold uniforms. Girls from both teams had mud on their legs even though they hadn’t started the game yet.

Whoooooooooooo!

Someone blew a whistle and a roar exploded from below. Both sides were clapping as they took the field. Everyone in the stands clapped, too. Fiona and the rest of the Rangers looked superconfident. There weren’t very many cheers for Dunn Manor, just a small group of boys and girls closer to the bottom of the bleachers. Madison saw someone’s dad holding a yellow sign that said
WE’RE NOT DUNN UNTIL WE BEAT FAR HILLS!

Madison felt a surge of irresistible energy being there. Soon she was cheering as loudly as Aimee.

“Go, Rangers,” everyone shrieked together. “Go! Go! Go!”

By now Egg, Drew, and Chet had found Madison and Aimee in the stands. They pushed their way up to their rows.

“Yo!” Egg screamed. “This is so awesome, right? Better than elementary school games.”

Egg and Drew whistled the kind of whistle where they stuck their two fingers into their mouths. It was way louder than the plain old pucker whistle that Madison was trying.

Chet screamed, and everyone looked down onto the soccer field in time to see a Mallard take off with the ball. But there was no shot at goal.

Not yet. But Fiona was on the move.

“There she goes!” Chet screamed. It was funny, Madison thought, to see him looking so happy, almost proud, at what his sister was doing. In spite of the fact that he was the most annoying part of her life, Chet and Fiona were so totally bonded. Madison couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a twin.

Fiona raced up and down the soccer field in the spitting rain. She got her chance to kick on goal—but missed. The crowd sighed together.

That’s when Madison saw Hart. He was wearing a Far Hills sweatshirt. He never looked up, so he had no idea Madison was there, but she kept her eyes glued on him. She scanned the area around him, but no Ivy.

“Madison, isn’t this the best?” Aimee squealed. “I came to soccer games before with my brothers, and it was never like this.”

Everyone around them took a deep breath at the exact same time.

“Ahhhh!”

The crowd howled as the Rangers jumped around on the field. There was a penalty and an offside kick. The crowd waited. The clock ticked. Fiona kicked.