‘By Paco,’ Holly read. That guy who’d said the only girl he wanted was Mads.
Mads walked in and found Holly and Lina staring at the bulletin board. “What are you reading?” Mads asked.
“Oh, nothing. Just a tribute to your loveliness.” Lina pointed to the poem, scribbled in green ink on a piece of notebook paper.
“Oh my god,” Mads said. “It’s for me? It’s a poem about me?” She unpinned the poem and read it with shaking hands.
Ode to Madison Markowitz
By “paco”
I’m in love with Madison
I’ll take her to my pad-ison
Together we’ll be bad-ison
Oh Madison, my Madison
Oh my pretty Markawitz
Your beauty makes me bark-owitz
I want to see you stark-owitz
Naked.
My Madisonl My Markowitzl
“It sucks,” Madison said.
“Well, it may not be Shakespeare,” Lina said. “But the feeling behind it—” She stopped. There was no denying it, it sucked. “It’s still exciting,” she said. “Somebody is crazy about you! And he’s declaring his love in public—right here on the library bulletin board!”
“What if it’s a joke?” Madison said.
“Who would go to so much trouble just to play a joke on you?” Holly said. “I mean, rhyming and everything. He could have saved himself a lot of hassle by using free verse.”
“I think it’s very romantic,” Lina said.
“Who do you think Paco is?” Mads said. Lina and Holly shrugged.
“Maybe it’s time for you to find out,” Holly said.
“But if Sean didn’t write this, I don’t care who did,” Mads said.
“Mads, even if it’s not Sean, it’s a guy who likes you,” Lina said. “And Sean might hear about it, or see you together—”
“Guys like girls that other guys like,” Holly added. “They’re like sheep that way.”
“You’re right,” Mads said. “Maybe I should give this Paco a try. What’s the worst that could happen?”
On this point, Holly and Lina kept their thoughts to themselves.
14
The Poetry Flows
To: linaonme
From: Your daily horoscope
HERE IS TODAY’S HOROSCOPE: CANCER: You are this close to going over the edge. Wave to me on the way down, will you?
Lina kind of wished “Paco” hadn’t written that poem for Mads—it made her question the wisdom of her latest secret plan.
She hadn’t meant to do it. But she was up late one night, and she found herself writing a poem. It was a good poem, too. Just as good as anything Ramona and her friends wrote. There was no reason why it shouldn’t be published, and the best place for it was Inchworm.
There was an established submission procedure for Inchworm: You were supposed to leave your work in the box outside the journal’s office. Lina had seen Dan empty the submission box several times before. He probably made comments on the submissions and passed them on to the editors, Carrie and Ramona.
But Lina’s poem wasn’t meant for their eyes. It was meant for Dan only. Surely he would see that as soon as he read it. He would also see Lina’s literary genius, that her voice was a gift to the world of poetry. A gift he must help her nurture and grow. At first, student and teacher would be united only by their love of the written word. But gradually, as the student blossomed into an irresistible young poetess, he would realize that love had blossomed, too. A love that transcended the boundaries of age differences, school rules, parental horror, and political correctness. A love for the ages.
And this poem was the beginning of it all.
Pedantry
I stand before you, waiting,
lost
out of balance, like a
violet plucked from the dewy grass too
early.
Don’t leave before the petals fall
a moment too soon or too late makes all the difference
now.
Lina reread the poem with satisfaction. She knew she had gone a little overboard on Dan—that was why she couldn’t share her real feelings with her friends. Maybe it was okay for Mads to go crazy over Sean, but this was different, more dangerous. And Holly always seemed so levelheaded. It shamed Lina. She was reluctant to reveal how unsensible she could be.
She folded up the poem and sealed it in an envelope. On the envelope she wrote To Dan Shulman. Inchworm Poetry Submission. Then she dropped it in the box to await its fate.
hollygolitely: any responses to your personal ad yet, mads?
mad4u: not really, one girl wrote offering to make over my makeover. Sebastiano made kissing noises at me today. I guess he thinks my picture is funny.
Holly sat in her room Tuesday night, not doing her Modern World History homework. As good a time as any to take an IM break with Mads.
hollygolitely: basti likes to tease.
mad4u: A few boys sent jokey answers, but no serious ones. Unless you count paco.
hollygolitely: paco answered your ad?
mad4u: ya. Wants to go out with me.
hollygolitely: and?
mad4u: guess I will, it’s time to find out who this sucker is.
flappie: hey holly, whatcha doing? It’s me, Rob.
hollygolitely: mads, rob just im’ed me! I’ll get back to you.
mad4u: right on.
hollygolitely: hi rob. Just goofing off. where’d you get your screen name?
flappie: stupid, isn’t it? my dad calls me that when I make pancakes. Flapjacks. Cause I’m good at flipping them. I just didn’t know what to pick for a screen name.
hollygolitely: I like it. Pancakes are a good thing.
flappie: so how’s the ihd project going? any juicy stuff?
hollygolitely: plenty. Did you know there’s a boy in our school whose most embarrassing moment was when his stepsister put permanent green dye in his bathing suit? He said he was green down there for weeks, and the guys on his swim team started calling him alien butt.
flappie: I think I know who that was. Is he a junior?
hollygolitely: yeah. But I think he’d like to remain anonymous.
flappie: Well, Just wanted to check in. better get back to the civil war. Wait—one more thing. Do you have a date for the winter dance yet?
hollygolitely: no. do you?
flappie: no. want to be my date?
hollygolitely: ok. Sounds good.
flappie: great. We’ll talk later.
hollygolitely: q-1. bye.
flappie: c-u.
Holly screamed with excitement. Rob asked her to the dance! It was a very good sign. Maybe her Boobmeister phase was coming to an end at last. Most boys didn’t ask the school slut to a dance.
She logged off and tried to study her history textbook. World War I. Was she crazy? How could she study at a time like this? She logged back on and IM’ed Mads and Lina.
hollygolitely: stop what u’r doing right now. rob asked me to the winter dance!
linaonme: x-l-ent!
mad4u: u r so lucky
linaonme: bet jake will be jealous.
hollygolitely: guess what? I don’t care!
mad4u: u r right. Rob’s way cooler.
hollygolitely: mads, did u write paco yet?
mad4u: negatory.
linaonme: write him! maybe he can be YOUR date for the dance!
mad4u: what about u, lina?
linaonme: don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.
To: paco
From: mad4u
Re: my ad
Okay. I give in. Who are you? I am ready to meet you and learn your identity.
To: Mad4u
From: paco
Re: excellent!
You have made me the happiest guy in the world! But you must be patient. Soon I will leave you a clue to my identity. Until then, truly it is I who is made-4-u.
Mads slapped her keyboard in frustration. She coul
dn’t believe it! He wouldn’t tell her who he was? He was leaving her a clue? She wanted to know right then and there, so she could research him before she had to look him in the face. Make sure he was Mads material. Because she had a funny feeling that anybody who was this crazy about her had to have something wrong with him.
Dear Lina,
Thank you for your recent submission to Inchworm. Unfortunately, your work does not suit our needs at this time. Please feel free to submit any other work you may have in the future.
Sincerely,
The Editors
Inchworm, The Literary Journal of RSAGE
Lina’s heart sank as she read the rejection letter. How could they? At the very least her poem was no worse than the usual drivel they published. Did Ramona intercept the envelope and open it herself, even though it was addressed to Dan? Did Dan ever see the poem?
Underneath the printed letter was a hand-scrawled note.
Lina—Your poem isn’t a total loss. We might reconsider it if you’d be willing to revise it. Carrie, siobhan, and I thought your work was too flowery and suffered from a lack of rawness. You could try adding more religious and death imagery, such as rivers of blood, serpents, gates of hell, and ritual disembowelment. Or you could go in another direction completely. Here’s one suggestion for how your poem might read:
Girl
I know what you’re trying to do with your Violets in the grass and Everything but it’s Useless. Listen, I’m only trying to hell
p
of course, this only a suggestion—one editor’s opinion—and you should feel free to stick to your own vision, however pathetic.
Ramona
p.s The Dan shulman Cult (DSC) meets every Friday in our clubhouse (my room). We have a small museum of Dan memorabilia—used coffee cups, graded papers, and so on. You are cordially invited to attend the next meeting this Friday. I’ll assume you don’t have a date.—RF
Lina angrily crumpled up the note. Ramona thought she was so smart! It was obviously her one defense against being a total misfit loser.
Ramona couldn’t stop Lina so easily. She might be able to intercept Dan’s private mail at school, but she couldn’t do it at home. Actually, Lina wouldn’t put it past her—it would be just like Ramona to cast a spell on the U.S. Postal Service to make sure Lina’s mail got lost.
Lina wouldn’t take any chances. She’d deliver the poem to Dan herself. In person. By hand. Just to make sure he got it. And to keep Ramona out of it, she’d deliver it to him at home.
Lina told herself this was in the service of literary justice. All she wanted was for the faculty advisor of Inchworm to see her poem. For her poem to have a fair shot at publication. That’s all. That was the only reason she was going to Dan’s house. It made perfect sense to Lina. If she didn’t think about it too hard.
15
Paco Revealed
To: mad4u
From: Your daily horoscope
HERE IS TODAY’S HOROSCOPE: VIRGO: You will confront an inscrutable mystery today. And that mystery is: What did you do to deserve this?
Madison,
The time has come at last. Meet me in the at room after school today and you will finally learn the true identity of the one who love you more than beef burritos, cheez doodles, at life itself.
—paco
Thursday morning, 8:30 AM. Mads tore the note off her locker and read it again. The handwriting was boyish and messy—it didn’t go with the flowery words at all. Maybe that was a good thing.
The day slogged by, each minute seeming to drag like an hour. Geometry, Mads’ most hated and tortured subject, was last period that day. Ms. Mildred Weymouth, her Geometry teacher, was a stout, perfectly nice lady in her sixties with a glass eye and a voice that could put a hyperactive kid into a coma. That was why they called her “Sleep-eez,” when they didn’t call her “Mildew.”
At last, at last, the final bell rang. Mads dumped her books in her locker and checked her face and hair in the mirror she kept taped inside the door. She’d decided to go easy on the makeup, since some of the kids were calling her “raccoon eyes” after they saw her personal ad photo.
Okay. Time to meet her fate.
She walked up to the third floor. The art room was lodged in an attic space on top of the school, with skylights and windows that looked out over the town.
Mads stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath. Please, Paco, be someone cool, she prayed. She opened the door and stepped into the room. It was empty, except for lots of artwork, obviously, and Yucky Gilbert.
What was he doing there? Paco would be there any minute now, and she didn’t want Gilbert around yucking things up.
“Hi, Madison,” Gilbert said.
“Hi, Gilbert,” Mads said. “What are you doing here? I’m meeting someone.”
“I know,” Gilbert said. “You’re meeting me.”
Again? Mads’ brain fought against the obvious conclusion. The last person she wanted to see was Gilbert. She was most emphatically not there to meet him. But her heart sank as she realized that be was there to see her. Again.
He stood up and walked slowly toward her, dressed in a pair of brown plaid pants that were too small for him. His long legs poked out of the pants like toothpicks.
“I’m ‘Paco,’” Gilbert explained.
Mads clutched at a chair and sat down. “No,” she gasped. “You can’t be Paco. You already filled out a questionnaire. You’re ‘John’!”
“I’m Paco and John,” Gilbert said. “I filled out two questionnaires, using different screen names. I wanted to make sure I was matched up with you somehow. I figured if I put my name in the hat twice, it would double my chances. Are you surprised?”
Damn right she was surprised. It had never occurred to her that Gilbert would use two different names. She thought she’d disposed of him when she got rid of “John.” Now it turned out he was like a self-replicating mutant, or a robot who multiplies and comes back stronger every time you try to destroy it.
“That’s not fair,” she managed to say. Her throat felt tight. She was so disappointed. “You’ll ruin the results of our IHD project.”
“I don’t care,” Gilbert said. “I’m ruthless. I’ll do anything to get you.”
He pulled a bunch of roses wrapped in cellophane from behind his back and presented them to her. She gripped the stems with her cold, cold fingers.
“Madison, I have something very important to talk about with you,” Gilbert said. “I have a confession to make. It’s a little embarrassing, but I know I can trust you.”
“What is it?” Mads asked. She wanted desperately to leave but her legs felt frozen stiff.
“Madison, I’m a virgin.” Mads looked up at him. Did she hear him right? Or was this all just part of some terrible dream?
“Did you just say you were a virgin?” Mads asked. “At twelve? Gee, that’s a shocker.”
“Yes, it’s true,” Gilbert said, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “I know it’s hard to believe. But I have decided to lose my virginity with you. You’re a little older than I am, so you must be more advanced, right?”
Oh my god, Mads thought. If only he knew. Was Gilbert sent by the devil to torture her?
“So is it a deal?” Gilbert asked. “Can we do it as soon as possible? We could lock the art room door and do it right here, right now. What do you say?”
Gilbert flashed her a big smile and got down in front of her on one knee, arms open wide.
Mads stared at him in disbelief. The roses fell from her hands to the floor, but she didn’t notice or care. She was too stunned to speak.
Gilbert’s smile faded, but he wasn’t giving up hope yet. “Or I could take you out on a date first,” he offered. “That would be fine, too.”
Slowly, the icy shock that had held her in its grip began to thaw. Mads wiggled her fingers and toes. She wanted to run screaming from the room, but she wasn’t sure her legs would hold her up.
She slowly got to
her feet, testing her strength. “I understand your situation, Gilbert,” she said in a calm voice. “Believe me, I feel for you. But I can’t help you. I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.”
Gilbert shuffled across the floor on his knees in a panic. “Madison, if you’d give me a chance to win you over—”
Madison’s calm, polite shell cracked. It had never been too sturdy to begin with. Her legs, however, were fine.
“No!” she shouted. “Get away from me!”
Now she ran screaming from the room.
“Madison, come back!” Gilbert shouted. “Will you go to the dance with me?”
16
The Dance Begins
To: mad4u, hollygolitely, linaonme
From: Your daily horoscope
HERE IS TODAY’S HOROSCOPE: SOLAR ECLIPSE! Another huge astrological event. Unfortunately, it will happen in the Southern Hemisphere, so you Northerners won’t get to see it. But that doesn’t mean it won’t affect you. The stars predict close encounters, close calls, and close shaves for everybody.
I’ll meet you girls back here at eleven, all right?” Lina’s father said to Lina and Mads, leaning out the window of his black Lexus sedan.
“All right, Dad. Thanks,” Lina said.
“Thanks, Mr. Ozu,” Mads said. It had only been a few joyous weeks since Holly got her driver’s license, but Lina and Mads were already used to having her pick them up for parties and stuff. It felt like a hardship to have to rely on a parent again.
“What if Holly and Rob become a couple?” Mads asked. “Holly will never want to drive us anywhere. And you’re not turning sixteen until July!”
“But if Holly likes Rob…” Lina said. “I mean, I don’t think that’s a very good reason to want them not to get together.”
“I know. It’s totally selfish and I’m a terrible person. We’ll just have to cozy up to Rebecca or somebody. I think her birthday’s in March.”
They stood outside the school entrance, watching the students pour in for the dance. Then they went inside and down the hall to the auditorium, which had been lamely decorated with fake snow, an igloo, and colored lights. There was no band, just a DJ—somebody’s older brother—hired by the social committee. Still, even though they pretended it was no big deal, Lina and Mads were excited. Mads hoped Sean would be there. Maybe she could dance near him and he’d turn around and they’d dance together, even if only for a few seconds.