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“Come on, Madison. As usual, we're all waiting for you,” Egg cracked.

The group took a bunch of selfies on top of a giant tractor then took turns poking their heads through a huge hand-painted wooden scarecrow. Madison and her friends made funny faces. Madison and Hart expertly avoided each other. It got weird so fast.

Madison checked Drew's wrist for the time. He had a gold watch shaped like a triangle. Three hours had passed too quickly. Soon the limo driver and Mr. Waters would be here to take everyone home.

“What are you thinking about?” Leyli asked.

Madison grinned. “Nothing much,” she said. “And everything. All at the same time.”

“I know how that feels,” Leyli said. “I obsess about stuff.”

Madison smiled. “Yeah.”

If only Leyli and the others knew she was thinking about Dan and Hart and the twinge. They wouldn't know
what
to say.

Once their rides arrived, everyone hastily said good-bye and rushed off. On the way back with Mr. Waters, Madison and her pals flipped through the pics in Fiona's and Aimee's phones. They all shared an app called funkyfotostudio, where they could add borders, captions, little stars, and halos. There was a way to make mini flip books with photo bursts and collages with special effects, like fireworks and weird ghost glows.

Fiona also looked at the posts from the kids in their group: more scarecrow selfies, a whole series of shots showing the boys with pie on their faces, and an action video of Egg and Chet walking into a barn door as if by mistake.

Scrolling through, Madison ran across a funny sequence of photos from Chet's profile. They had been taken with Egg, Chet, Hart, and a few girls, including Fiona in the background. It was hard to tell who everyone else was because half the photos were blurred. But there was one girl who had turned away from the camera a little. She looked familiar. Madison squinted to look more closely. The girl was laughing. Hart was laughing, too. They were laughing
together.
And they were standing very close.

“Who's that?” Leyli whispered over Madison's shoulder. “I know her from school, but I can't remember her name. Was she here today?”

“I don't know,” Madison said, squinting. “I don't remember …”

All at once, Madison realized
exactly
who the girl was.

That girl was Ivy Daly.

Madison couldn't believe her eyes. Wasn't Ivy supposed to be her friend, at least a little bit?

And try as she might to shake it, that moment was when the twinge came right back.

Chapter Nine

Madison fell onto her bed and opened her laptop. Lately, it would sometimes click and have trouble booting, but thankfully it seemed to be working all right on this lazy Saturday night. Mom said she'd get it fixed, but for now, Madison had to deal with the cracks and dents from the embarrassing spill down the school's front steps.

It had been such a strange afternoon and Madison was exhausted. At times it was awkward, like when Hart arrived. He wasn't the same boy from seventh grade. And what about Ivy? Didn't Hart say he would never hang with her again?

And yet that photo said it all.

But the truth was Madison wasn't the same girl from seventh grade, either.

So why did it hurt when Leyli gushed about how much she liked Dan? Why should Madison even care? She had had her chance with him, way back when he crushed hard on her. But that time had passed. Dan was her animal-loving friend, the guy with the funny T-shirts. He was
not
Madison's BCO. He was Leyli's crush now.

That hurt.

Madison wanted to talk about these crazy, mixed-up feelings with someone, but who? She knew just the person: Victoria. Her keypal spent weekends at Special Equestrian camp, but maybe she'd be e-accessible? Madison clicked on her laptop and sent Bigwheels an all caps message: “I NEED YOU!”

But there was no response. Her keypal was MIA.

Aaaaaaaargh!

Madison opened a brand-new file and began typing like a maniac.

ALL MY FAULT?


Here is the official list of problems in my universe, mysteries to be solved, and things to figure out pronto. I think I know the answers to some of these, but I keep asking the question anyhow.


I hate all the stuff I can't control.


 

1. Why isn't there an insta-cure for breakouts? And I don't mean some cream. I mean a magic face-zapping power wand!


2. Why can't I be two inches taller? Is that so much to ask for?


3. Why did my laptop jump out of my bag and crash onto the steps the other day? Doesn't it like me anymore?


4. Why can't Dad and Steph have a baby like they want to? The universe is unfair!!!!


5. Why is Ivy Daly so IMPOSSIBLE? And why is she always showing up unannounced? (Like in that photo grrrrrr.)


6. Why is Steph always so nice no matter what?


7. Why is Mom always so busy (and not always nice) no matter what?


8. Why is Phinnie not getting better?


9. What is going on with Hart, and why does he keep making me think we're an “us” one minute and then COMPLETELY blowing me off the next?


10. Why do Leyli & I have to be crushing on the same boy??? See #11.


11. Why is that boy Pork-O? Am I crushing because Dan and I both like animals? Is it because he rides a skateboard now? Wait, that sounds so lame! Ahhhh! WHY DAN!??? WHY MEEEEEE?!!


12. WHY WHY WHY??!!!!!!!


 

Of course I will stop before 13 because that's the unluckiest. I can't risk unlucky. Not now.


I soooo wanted Hart to write to me and be mine even after he moved away. That's what he said he wanted, too. BUT now I'm not so sure. It doesn't seem like old times, and he's so low-key and distant, and I can't tell what he's thinking half the time—even when he's standing inches from me at Harvest Fest.


Is it over?


Rude Awakening:
Life is one big earthquake waiting to happen—and I'm always looking for the fault lines. My fault? Hart's fault? Dad's fault? Dan's fault? Or maybe it's nobody's fault?


Nope.


It's always somebody's fault.


Madison hit SAVE and fell back onto her pillows. She had those memory foam ones Mom got on sale. It was like sinking into a squooshy cloud, or at least what Madison imagined a cloud would feel like.

She woke up hours later in a haze. Madison had hoped the morning would bring answers. So here it was—morning.

No answers.

There was a knock on Madison's bedroom door. Mom poked her head in.

“Decent?”

Madison leaped up. “Mom! There's a reason why I had the door closed. Can't you read?”

Madison had put a sign on the knob: KEEP AWAY UNLESS YOU HAVE A GOOD REASON.

“Oh,” Mom said. “I think I have a good reason. I made some waffles if you want one.”

Madison couldn't believe Mom made breakfast. She never ever cooked! Definitely proof that Mom felt guilty about what had happened. This was how Mom worked: travel, work, complain, travel, work, feel guilty …

Madison bounded into her closet and threw together an outfit. A faded jean skirt over brown leggings with a white top and sneakers did the trick.

Breakfast without Phinnie felt too quiet. He was still at the clinic, so Madison had no one to toss waffle scraps to. Mom wasn't saying much, either. The radio in the kitchen played elevator music and Mom drummed her fingers on the table.

Madison ate quickly and got her stuff together. Mom was here to drive her to school at the start of a brand-new week, and that was a very good thing. It had been a while since Mom drove her, and Madison wanted to show her off, in a way. Most kids would run as far as possible from parent drop-off. But Madison wanted everyone to know her mom was here—only gone when she was out directing a major motion picture.

Unfortunately, the drive did not leave space for much mom bonding. It was more like one awkward minute of silence after the next. Things had to change, Madison told herself. The ride to school felt slower than it had ever been, too—almost like the universe was trying to make her feel more awkward than was humanly possible.

“Have a nice day, honey bear,” Mom said as Madison leaped out of the car.

“Have a nice day, Mom,” Madison replied.

She headed inside school feeling jumpy. It was so hard being mad at Mom—and everyone else. For the first time in a while, Madison was grateful for homework. Being busy with school meant less time for drama. She wanted to focus on getting A's—and not getting A for annoyed.

By the time seventh period arrived, Madison was thankful Hart had left Far Hills, so he was far out of sight where school was concerned. And she hadn't been lucky—or unlucky—enough to run into Dan in the hallways today so far.

When she got to science class and spotted her lab partner, Madison had a hunch that her mood might improve with an answer to the mysterious photo. Poison Ivy was seated at the table with her hair piled on top of her head. She looked like a model. Like her or not, Madison could never argue with fact: Ivy Daly was hands-down the prettiest girl at Fall Hills Middle School. Actually, she was probably the prettiest girl anywhere. No wonder Hart wanted to take a picture with her.

Now Madison had to figure out how to broach the subject of the photograph.

“I like your outfit,” Madison said, approaching her partner. “You look good.”

“Well, you look awful,” Ivy said as they slid up onto their lab stools.

“Gee thanks.” Madison shrugged.

Ivy shrugged. “Hashtag TRUTH.”

Any bystander who happened to hear that exchange might mistake it for mean girl talk. But Ivy was kidding around. That was how they talked to each other. They'd come a long way since third grade.

“Are you feeling all right?” Ivy asked. “Seriously, Maddie. You look a little green.”

“Which shade?” Madison laughed. “Lizard or throw-up?”

“Mmmmm, good one,” Ivy cracked. “You should definitely fire your stylist.”

“Hey, I am part alien,” Madison said. “What's your excuse?

“Oh, really?”

Ivy made a face of faux disgust, and they both locked eyes. It was a full-on power struggle—and then Ivy cracked a wide smile. “Yes, I was trying hard to be rude,” Ivy said. “Because mean comes so much more easily than nice. Don't you think?”

Madison leaned in a little closer. “Ivy, can I ask you something real—and will you be totally honest with me?”

“How many times do I have to tell you I'm your frenemy for life?”

“Ivy … seriously. I'm gonna ask you something, and I don't want you to freak.”

“What's the issue?” Ivy asked.

“Have you been hanging out with Hart Jones?”

“Hart?” Ivy made a face. “Are you kidding? He lives in another state, Madison. Uh … No. I haven't even seen him.”

“Really? Because I heard that … well, I saw that—”

“You heard what? You saw what?” Ivy rolled her eyes.

“I saw a photo of you two. And everyone was saying that—”

“You want to talk about everyone? Try your other friends on for size. Aimee sticks her nose in the air and never says hello. Fiona is worse. They're mean. Why are you asking me about Hart? Didn't we cover all this last year and this summer? Didn't I already get publicly humiliated? Didn't we end this? He's your dreamboat. He doesn't even care if I exist. Remember?”

Madison gulped. Ivy was so upset. She didn't want her to be distressed. She took all the stuff with Hart … well, to heart. She'd accused Ivy unfairly.

“I'm sorry. It's just that … when I see you in a photo on someone's cell phone and you and Hart are both in the pic, I start thinking—”

“Impossible,” Ivy interrupted. “I am not in a new pic on Hart's phone. Ridiculous.”

“So, I guess I made a mistake. It's just that—”

“Maddie, please!” Ivy went on. “Didn't you think that maybe it could have been a picture from last year, when things were totally messed up with us and I was hanging out with Hart?”

“Hanging out?” Madison said cheekily.

“Okay, stalking him. But just a little.”

“I swear I saw a picture. From the fall festival. It was from last weekend.”

Ivy's head dropped down, and she took a breath. “Okay, maybe. Maybe it was me.”

Madison's eyes grew wide. “Huh?”

“Hart saw me. He said some stuff. I thought he liked you. He's weird.”

Madison smiled. “Yeah, he's very weird. What'd he say?”

“Stuff. I told him to get lost,” Ivy said. “You believe me?”

“Well … I actually do. Is that weird?”

“I always tell you the truth, Maddie, even when it hurts. I tell you when you are wearing a truly hideous outfit, don't I?”

They chuckled together.

“Yeah, Ivy,” Madison said. “Yes, you do.” This was the same Ivy who had ignored Madison since the third grade, the same Ivy who earned the Poison nickname for a reason, but now she seemed genuine.

“Madison,” Ivy added, “I know we aren't besties or anything, but I am so not interested in Hart anymore. I mean that. Cross my heart and hope to croak, ain't no lie and ain't no joke.”

All at once, Madison felt her chest heave a little bit. She believed Ivy. This friendship, as warped and wacked as it was, mattered.

“I don't know what to think anymore,” Madison confessed. “I mean about Hart. And well, there's this other kid in class. Oh, I shouldn't say anything …”

“You mean Dan?”

“What? How did you …”

Ivy grinned. “You know what all the talk-show hosts say, right? Like Dr. Will? Have you ever seen that relationship show?”

Madison leaned in. “What are you talking about?”

“That you have to be friends first,” Ivy stated matter-of-factly. “And you're already friends with Pork-O, right?”

“Uh … yes. Good friends. Sometimes it's like he can read my mind. Well, that's what it feels like. He gets me.”

“So? Why are you confused about anything then?” Ivy demanded.

Madison's mind flickered. She wondered if maybe, even though she claimed to be her friend, Poison Ivy wasn't still working the puppet strings, competing with Madison, trying to be better in every way—especially where boys were concerned. If she sent Madison off the trail with Dan, then Ivy could sniff out the next opportunity to swoop in and get the next cute boy for herself. Maybe she'd even parade Hart back into the picture. …