Internet Famous Page 21
Madi’s expression grew wary. “Mom must be so mad at me.”
“Don’t you worry, your mother is on your side. Now we should probably go. I don’t want to be late.”
Madi plodded to the door with leaden feet. “Oh, yippee,” she muttered. “As if this day couldn’t get any worse.”
Her father chuckled. “Relax, Madi.” He squeezed her shoulder. “You’re not going into this alone. I’ve got your back, you know.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Her father smiled. “No problem.”
* * *
Madi sat in Mrs. Preet’s office, her father on one side, a laptop—projecting an image of her mother from Oxford—on the other. Across from them—directly below the trio of poodle pictures—sat the school’s triumvirate: Principal McQuarrie, Vice Principal Preet, and a nameless representative of the school board. Mrs. Preet looked positively green, and Madi wondered how much trouble she’d be in if she flipped her the finger. Her father was in damage-control mode, smiling as he smoothed his mustache. Things couldn’t get worse at this point. She just hoped—with her parents’ support—it could get better.
“I appreciate you taking time to meet with us, Mrs. Preet,” Charles said in his most persuasive voice. “I know you’ll do everything in your power to assist us in this matter.”
“Of course I will.” Mrs. Preet nodded. “I’m just not sure why we need”—her eyes slid to Mr. Nakama’s lawyer, Ms. Auryn—“outsiders involved.”
The lawyer gave her a look of mildly bored interest. With her five-hundred-dollar shoes and Calvin Klein suit, she looked like she’d stepped out of the wrong television show. “Anything that may impact Mr. Nakama’s personal interests are of interest to me,” Ms. Auryn said drily. “And I’m sure you’ve followed the letter of the law.”
Madi fought the urge to cheer as Mrs. Preet’s face paled. “Well, of course, I believe so. But I’m … I’m no lawyer.”
“Exactly,” Madi’s mother added, her voice echoing from the laptop’s speakers. “Which is why we’re going to get everything settled right now. This isn’t something we’re ready to slide on.”
Madi turned to find her mother’s gaze looking out at her from the laptop’s screen. “This is far beyond a simple error. Our daughter, Madi, hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“Agreed,” Charles echoed.
“We are determined to have this resolved,” his wife added.
“Exactly,” Charles agreed. “Madi’s gone through enough.”
In that moment, Madi knew both her parents were on her side, protecting her. She smiled, and her mother and father, on two different continents, smiled back.
The attorney slid a tiny recorder forward. “I’ll be recording this, if you don’t mind,” she said. “It’s easier than taking notes.”
“Not a problem, Ms. Auryn,” Principal McQuarrie said gravely. “Right, Mrs. Preet?”
“N-no. Not at all.” Mrs. Preet stared at the recorder like it was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe. Madi bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from laughing. She might not be graduating. She might have an entire course to redo. But if she was stuck in a hole, Mrs. Preet had dug herself in a foot and a half deeper.
* * *
Madi stumbled out of Mrs. Preet’s office, a grin plastered on her face. “You did it!” she said, throwing her arms around her father. “I can’t believe you and Mom pulled it off!”
“I didn’t do anything.” The corners of his mouth tugged up into a smile. “Mind you, neither did you.”
Beside them, the attorney cleared her throat, drawing his attention.
“Thank you for coming down, Maria,” Charles said, offering his open palm and shaking her hand. “I appreciated your support.”
“No problem at all, Mr. Nakama,” she said. “Call me if you need anything else.”
“I will.”
With Ms. Auryn gone, father and daughter walked down the hallway to the exit. The meeting had resolved a number of items. According to the school board representative, the claim of plagiarism had been resolved based on Ms. Rodriguez’s input. Any anonymous claims in the future would be treated with suspicion. Who exactly had accused Madi remained a mystery. She had completed all classwork except for the final video project.
“It still doesn’t seem real,” Madi said as they stepped out the doors into the June sunshine. “I was so worried about it all, and now it’s fixed.”
“You’re home free,” her father said. “How does it feel?”
“Good. Really good.”
“Nothing but smooth sailing till college begins in the fall.”
The day seemed to dim with his announcement. It was the one thing she hadn’t dealt with. College. The issue she’d been avoiding for months. Was this the life she wanted to live? Madi frowned down at the sidewalk.
Now or never …
“Dad?”
“Yeah, sweetie?”
“I … need to talk to you about something.” Buoyed by her parents’ support in the meeting, she forced the words to come. “I want to talk about college.”
“What about it?”
“I don’t know if I want—if I can…” She took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes closed.
“It’s okay, Madi. Just say it, all right? Whatever it is, we’ll handle it.”
“Dad, I don’t want to go to college.” She opened her eyes. “Not yet, at least.”
She’d imagined this conversation any number of times since she’d gotten her acceptance letter, and in each one, it ended with yelling. Not today.
“All right, then,” her father said. “What do you want to do?”
“I want to take MadLibs to the next level. I want to be funemployed full-time.”
“Have you talked to your mother about this?”
Madi’s smile faded. “You mean about Sarah?”
“No. Not about Sarah, about you and what you want to do with your life.”
“I…” She winced. “No, I haven’t.”
“You should. I’m sure she’d love to talk to you. She loves you, you know.”
Madi’s voice dropped. “But what do we do with Sarah? I mean, she relies on me. I’m the one who picks her up and drops her off. I can’t just leave you guys hanging.”
“We’ll figure something out.”
“But I can’t just leave her. I can’t—” Madi’s voice broke.
Charles put his hands on his daughter’s shoulders, drawing her gaze. He smiled. “It makes sense to want to move on, to start your own life. And you should, Madi. This is when you’ve got to start living for yourself.”
“But Sarah—”
“Will be just fine,” he said. His hands tightened on Madi’s shoulders. “Look at what happened when your mom took the position at Oxford.”
“Sarah freaked.”
“But once we got everything under control again, she was fine. Sarah just needs time to adapt to change. To get used to new schedules.” He dropped his hands from Madi’s shoulders. “We need Sarah to grow up just as much as we need you to. So don’t put your plans on hold for her, or for us.”
Madi stared at her father, unsettled by his words. Her little sister was the excuse she’d always used—for avoiding parties, for doing online classes rather than attending regular ones, for all the movies and dates she’d declined. If she didn’t have Sarah, those choices were on her.
“A-are you sure?”
“I’m positive,” he said with a grin that spread all the way from his mustache to the magnified wrinkles behind his glasses. “You’re at the starting line for real life. You don’t want to hold back. Your mother’s career was a starting point, and I’m so proud we supported her in that. You deserve the same.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You tell us how we can help. And that’s what your mom and I will do.”
“Thanks, Dad,” she said thickly.
“You don’t have to thank me. You just have to g
o for it. Live, Madi. You’re only young once, you know.”
Madi shook her head. “Once is one too many times, if you ask me.”
* * *
Madi sat by the open window of her bedroom, waiting as the flagging Wi-Fi signal slowly processed the bits of information on the post she was trying to see. Outside, the sound of lawn mowers rose. A faint breeze rustled her hair, warm with the scent of flowers.
The post finished loading, and she glanced down at the screen.
Madi grinned and hit REBLOG. She might not be online today, or even tomorrow, but she’d be back, and MadLibs would be her escape once more. More than that, it was going to be her life. Her beginning.
Sighing happily, she let her head fall against the wall. It was a long ways from perfect, but things felt good. And that was a start.
17
“I gave her my heart, she gave me a pen.”
(Say Anything…, 1989)
Eyes blurring, Madi watched the video for the tenth time, searching for errors. The titles were perfect. (Her father had proofread them all the night before.) So were the cuts. Even the few mishaps—when Madi flubbed a line or laughed midsentence—seemed to work. The vlog was polished and real, something Madi could be proud of!
She double-clicked on the final section, blinking gritty eyes as it launched. She’d entitled the piece “Real-Life Splash,” and she liked it the best, despite it being the shortest.
She scrubbed through to the last scene: her sitting on top of the building near the train yards, night falling across the city.
“Perhaps that is what New York offers each of us: an ability to become the unknown, the faceless—to start afresh. That’s what I want! New York is a blank page, waiting for my story, but unlike so many authors who’ve made the city their home, I don’t intend to write mine in the words of a book. I want to share my thoughts, my ideas, my blog.” On-screen, Madi grinned. “I might be MadLibbing my way into adulthood, but it’s as good a place as any to start.”
Madi nodded to herself, happy with the final montage. She was ready to make the leap. She attached the links to her e-mail, addressed it to Ms. Rodriguez’s school account, and called her father to enter the Wi-Fi code. He squeezed her shoulder as he passed her chair.
“Good job, Madi.”
“Thanks.”
She waited until he left the room before turning back to the screen. Time to jump. Madi clicked SEND.
Yawning, she grabbed her phone, crawled back into bed, and pulled the covers over her head. Inside the cave of blankets, her phone became a warm campfire of connections. She thumbed through her online hangouts, exhausted but happy.
@ArtWithAttitude: Okay guys. The post on #SKOW is up. I’m a bit worried. Not sure @fandometric and I have the same style. O_o #BeGentlePlease
@laurentabelard: @ArtWithAttitude Just read through it. It was different—yes—but it sounded like you both. Great job! *applauds* #Madlibs
@ArtWithAttitude: @laurentabelard Not too angsty?:>S #MadLibbingIsHardYo
@laurentabelard: @ArtWithAttitude Not at all. To each his own. Besides—@MadLib didn’t rave about every movie she watched. You both did great!
@ModernDayWitch: @ArtWithAttitude I thought you and @fandometric did a solid job.
@ModernDayWitch: @ArtWithAttitude @fandometric You balanced each other out, and I’m sure everyone will know emotions run high sometimes.
@WrittenInChantalics: @ArtWithAttitude @fandometric I’m sure it’ll be good. (Unless the troll is around, that is.) *Checks under the bridge*
In her rush to complete her vlog, Madi had completely forgotten that @fandometric and @ArtWithAttitude had taken on writing the post for Some Kind of Wonderful, the final guest post before she returned to the helm. She flicked to the MadLibs page, anxiously scanning the comments.
No troll.
Relieved, she read through @ArtWithAttitude and @fandometric’s Some Kind of Wonderful post. As with @laurentabelard and @ModernDayWitch, the article bounced back and forth between the two of them. The first few questions dealt mainly with plot, and Madi wondered why they were worried about backlash for too much angst.
She found her answer in the final discussion paragraphs.
@ArtWithAttitude: My favorite part of Some Kind of Wonderful was the romance that underscored the entire movie. I could identify with Watts more than ANY other movie lead I’ve seen. She had anger—yes!—but she also made her own future. This story doesn’t have the stereotypical ending. #Spoilers: The guy doesn’t really get the girl he thinks he wants, but he gets the person he needs. It was beyond perfect.
@fandometric: And that’s where I have to call bullshit. Absolutely NO. Stories like this are half the problem with society. All lies! I wanted him to get the prize. Amanda Jones was supposed to be his! Why shift it partway through? It doesn’t make sense.
@ArtWithAttitude: I thought it made sense. I mean, didn’t you feel the vibes between the two leads all the way along? “Friends falling in love” is a much fresher story than “underdog guy gets a girl who’d never even give him the time of day.” *gags* That’s totally overdone.
@fandometric: Screw friends falling in love. Keith deserved better. And as one of “those guys” hanging out and watching from the sidelines, I’m just saying this movie SUCKED. I’m glad I streamed it, because I’d never pay to watch this kind of crap.
“Yeesh! Calm down, dude,” Madi muttered.
She reread @fandometric’s comments, wondering how to address his angry tirade. She had a general policy not to provoke readers, but he’d given his opinion. It was undiluted. It was angry. But it was honest. For a few minutes, she mulled over the idea of commenting on the post, but in the end decided against it. With her final video assignment en route to Ms. Rodriguez, she was free to return to her spot at the helm of MadLibs.
She grinned as her eyes caught a final note on the bottom of the page:
ETA: @ArtWithAttitude: We’re happy to announce that @MadLib will be returning to her regularly scheduled blogs starting next week. Welcome back! Your fans have MISSED YOU!
It felt like coming home.
* * *
Madi had just closed up the MadLibs post and opened her e-mail when she caught sight of a new message. It was from Anna Rodriguez, her English teacher. When Madi saw it waiting there, her breath caught.
“Oh hell no!” Her final assignment had been sent in less than an hour before. No way Ms. Rodriguez could have graded it in that amount of time! “This can’t be happening again…”
Terrified, Madi opened the e-mail.
NEW Message, AnnaRodriguez@MillburnAcademy.com: 9:18 p.m. EST
Priority: Normal
Subject: RE: Final English Assignment
Hi Madi,
I saw you’d sent the video links to your final assignment this evening. Rather than forcing you to wait until the end of the semester to receive your grade, I went ahead and marked it. (See the attachment for the full grading breakdown and rubric highlights.)
Final Assignment: A+
Term Work: B+
Final Grade: A-
You have demonstrated a high level of skill and an ability to work under pressure that tells me what I already knew: blogging (in both written and video format) is your gift! I hope you will continue to pursue this.
Thank you for all your hard work and tenacity in the face of this semester’s difficulties. Wishing you all the best in the future!
—Ms. Rodriguez
Elation rushed through Madi’s limbs. “I did it!” she whooped. “I really DID IT!”
In the hallway, she heard Sarah’s bedroom door open. “Madi?” she called tiredly. “You okay?”
“I’m better than okay—I’m awesome!”
Her sister appeared in the doorway, her hair sleep rumpled and eyes at half-mast. “I heard you yelling. What happened?”
Madi ran forward and threw her arms around her sister. “I did it, Sarah! I passed! I’m going to graduate!”<
br />
Her sister began to squirm and Madi let go, still grinning.
“So you’re done? You passed everything for sure this time?”
“Yes!”
“You double-checked the rules?”
“Triple-checked ’em!”
Sarah nodded, her face caught in that intense expression that was a smile for anyone else. “Good job. I knew you would.”
* * *
Tonight, nothing could wreck Madi’s good mood. With Sarah on the couch next to her watching reruns of an old television show, and her laptop on her lap linked into the Wi-Fi, she was free! The buzz of the reconnection to the web was a tangible thing.
u around, l?
madi! how are you?
SO HAPPY!
why? what happened?
i’m done with the course! I PASSED! thank u for all ur help with the project! what a RELIEF! *does a happy dance*
bravo! you deserve it! (i didn’t do anything at all.)
u did! u helped me film the vlog & u showed me around ny. (mrs. r said the locations were “spot-on” for the ny that new yorkers would know.)
okay, maybe i did those things, but it was all just part of my devious plan.
devious plan to what? LOL
to spend time with you.
well, devious or not, it worked
ah! but I’m not done yet.
should I be expecting u on my doorstep?
i wish i could. sorry! got to run.
let me know when u r back. okay?
…
Madi sighed and put her phone aside, switching to her laptop. The MadLibs page, now free of the hijacked link, loaded in a heartbeat. “God, it feels good to be back.”
Sarah glanced up. “What did you say?”
“Nothing. Just got to make a choice about the next rewatch.”
Her sister’s eyes widened. “Can I help you choose?”
“Um, sure, I guess.”
“I want to watch The Lost Boys.”
“But I thought you didn’t like horror movies.”
Sarah glared. “I don’t like slasher movies. There’s a difference. I think I’ll like this one.”
“You sure about that?” Madi teased. “These aren’t the sparkly vampires, you know.”