“Dudes, why didn’t you go to Superscope Saturday night?” Sean said. “Boardman and I ran into these college chicks. They were so hot. They were post-apocalyptic.”
“What are you, trying to sound smart for the college girls?” Alex said. “Save yourself five syllables and just say they were hot.”
Mads smiled. Post-apocalyptic. She liked it. But it sounded familiar. She’s seen it or heard it somewhere recently, exactly the way Sean used it. But where?
Holly sat down. “You know, I love Geometry,” Holly said. “I think I aced the quiz today—”
“That’s it!” Mads jumped to her feet. That was where she’d seen the word—on one of the questionnaires. And there was an excellent chance that whoever wrote “post-apocalyptic” on his questionnaire was Sean. She hadn’t heard anyone else use the word that way, though she was expecting it to go wide any day now.
“I’m going to the library,” Mads said. “Back later.”
She hurried to the library and commandeered one of the computers. She scanned the boys’ questionnaires until she found it: “I like all kinds of girls, but especially girls who really knock me over, who are like, so hot they’re post-apocalyptic.”
Name of the boy: “p_diddy.” Of course. Like Sean “P. Diddy” Combs. Sean! It had to be Sean!
Mads had him now. This time he wouldn’t get away.
mad4u: u set it up, holly. I don’t want him to think I’m chasing him. I want him to think I’m chasing him. I want him to think that you compared our questionnaires and decided that the best girl in the whole school for him is me. Based on totally scientific evidence and all that.
hollygolitely: ok. I’ll tell him to email you to set up a date.
mad4u: thanks, h. I hope he writes right away. I’m so excited!
Mads signed off and tried to do her homework. Downstairs a dog howled pitifully. M.C. was seeing one of her patients, a Doberman with separation anxiety.
Mads did her Spanish homework, then checked her e-mail. Nothing. She IM’ed Holly.
mad4u: did you e-mail him yet?
hollygolitely: yes, an hour ago. Relax, he might not even read it till later.
Mads tried reading her history textbook. It was impossible. She checked her e-mail every five minutes.
Finally, right before she was about to go to bed, she got something.
To: mad4u
From: p_diddy
Re: date?
A chick from that dating game site matched me with you. r u up for it? want to meet at the pinetop Saturday night? I mean, why wait, right?
The Pinetop! Wow. Saturday night—she’d have to miss Rebecca’s party. Oh well. This was way better than some lame party. Going to the Pinetop Lounge with Sean Benedetto!
The Pinetop was a divey old bar known for its ancient jukebox and lax door policy. Mads had heard some of the older kids at Rosewood talk about it. Holly’s sister Piper used to go there all the time. They hardly ever carded. Still, Mads knew she looked closer to twelve than twenty-one, and that might test the Pinetop’s limits. She needed a fake ID—now. It was time to get one, anyway.
Mads wrote back to Sean:
Pinetop’s cool. See you at 8?
Saturday night at 8. See you then. How will I know you?
I’ll know you, she wanted to say, but thought better of it. Instead she wrote:
I have straight black hair. You’ve probably seen me around school.
Next she fired off an e-mail to Holly.
Emergency—I need a fake id now! Can Piper hook me up?
I’m about to go on my very first date with SEAN BENEDETTO!!!!
10
Nightmare at the Pinetop Lounge
To: mad4u
From: Your daily horoscope
HERE IS TODAY’S HOROSCOPE: VIRGO: You have strong ideals, Virgo, and that’s a good thing. But watch out—reality is about to bite you in the butt.
Mads’ seat belt could hardly restrain her as M.C. piloted the Volvo through the hills to Ridgewood Road. The Pinetop Lodge stood at the end of a small, isolated commercial strip, with a gas station, an old convenience store, a deli, and Prescott’s Pizza Shop.
“There it is, Mom,” Mads said. “Prescott’s.” M.C. pulled into the parking lot. A few doors down, the Pinetop was hopping.
“Are you sure this is where you’re meeting this boy?” M.C. asked.
“Sure, Mom,” Mads said. She’d told M.C. that Sean was meeting her for pizza. M.C. was very liberal in a lot of ways: She believed in human rights and freedom for people all over the globe and all kinds of animals. But when it came to her daughter, certain rights didn’t apply. That included the right to go to a bar with a boy at age fifteen. Mads tried to argue that her parents’ rules made her a political prisoner, but they weren’t that stupid.
“Is he here yet?” M.C. asked, looking around. Two cars were parked in front of Prescott’s, and a few people stood at the counter inside. “I think I’ll wait with you until he gets here. Just to make sure you’re all right.”
“Mom, no!” Mads cried. “I don’t want him to think I need my mother to drive me around.”
“But you’re not old enough to drive yourself! How is he going to think you got here in the first place?”
“Please, Mom. Look, I’ve got my cell phone.” Mads opened her bag and flashed her new cell phone as if to demonstrate. “If he doesn’t show up or anything goes wrong, I’ll call you. I promise.”
“All right,” M.C. said. “But call me as soon as he shows up. If I don’t hear from you in fifteen minutes, I’m calling you. And if you don’t answer, I’m coming right back.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Mads opened the door and got out of the car at last.
“Home by midnight!” M.C. reminded her.
Mads went into Prescott’s and watched her mom drive off. Then she went into the bathroom, put on some lipstick, and headed over to the Pinetop.
No sign of the Jeep yet. Mads figured she’d wait for Sean outside. It started to drizzle, so she waited under the Pinetop awning.
After a few minutes a black Jeep pulled up, and Sean got out. In the light of the streetlamp Mads watched him shake out his hair, stuff his keys in his pocket and head for the door. Mads positioned herself in front of it so he couldn’t miss her.
“Hi,” he said, reaching around her for the handle to the door. She blocked him.
“Hi,” she said. “Are you meeting someone here?”
His eyes narrowed as he stopped to take her in. “Yeah, I am, but—”
“Is your screen name’p_diddy’?” Mads asked.
His jaw fell open. “Are you ‘mad4u’?”
“That’s me. My real name is Madison.”
He stared at her, jaw hanging down, for a full three seconds. “You’re my date?”
“Yep.”
“But you’re just a kid!”
Mads started to panic. He wasn’t joking. He really seemed shocked and unhappy to see her.
“No, I’m not!” she insisted. “I’m a sophomore! I’m fifteen!”
“You are?” He took a step back and pushed his bangs up with his hand. “You don’t look that old.”
“But I am, I swear,” she said. She reached for her wallet, which held her brand new fake ID. Holly’s sister Piper had gotten one for each of them. “You want to see my ID? Well, actually, it says I’m twenty-one, which I’m not, but it has my picture on it!”
Sean laughed a little. “Look, kid,” he said. “You’re cute and all, but you’re a little young for me.”
“Why don’t you just give me a chance?” Mads pleaded. “I mean, we’re here now. Can’t we go inside and talk? Maybe once you get to know me you’ll see—”
“Okay, okay, calm down.” Sean seemed eager to get out of the rain. “Come on, let’s go in.”
He opened the door and ushered her inside. It was dark, but as her eyes adjusted Mads saw an old, scarred wooden bar, wood floors dotted with cigarette burns, neon beer signs everywhere, a jukebox, a
nd a pool table in the back. High school kids—some she recognized and some she didn’t—were clustered at the bar and a few rickety tables. Two overweight men in their fifties claimed one end of the bar as their territory. The kids steered clear of them.
“It’s the S-man!” a guy at the bar called out to Sean. The guy was talking to two girls on bar stools. Mads didn’t recognize them. They looked a little older, as if they could have been in college.
“Hey, Rich, I thought you might be here.” Sean slapped his hand against Rich’s and they did a kind of pseudo-hip-hop handshake. He took a step to the side and jostled Mads. “Oh, this is, uh—what was your name again?”
“Madison,” Mads said. “Madison Markowitz.”
“Madison.” Sean nodded. “Let’s get you a drink. What’ll you have?”
Mads hesitated. She’d had wine at Holly’s house and beer at parties, but that was about it. She looked around and saw that most people in the bar were drinking beer.
“I’ll have a Rolling Rock,” she said.
“Great.” Sean gestured to the bartender, a bony young man with a thin pencil mustache. “A Rolling Rock and an Anchor Steam.”
The bartender looked at Mads. “Uh, how old is she?”
Sean didn’t answer, just glanced back at her. “I’m twenty-one,” she said in a squeaky, unconvincing voice.
“Oh, really? Let me see your ID.”
“Wow, nobody ever gets carded in this place,” Rich murmured to the girls. Mads dug through her wallet and handed over her ID Take that! The bartender held it under the light over the cash register. Then he chuckled and handed it back to her. “There’s no way you’re twenty-one. Nice try, though. Sorry, man. She can’t stay.”
Can’t stay? No! What good was a fake ID if no one believed it?
“What if I just get a Coke or something?” Mads asked. “I won’t drink any alcohol.”
“No minors allowed. I can’t even serve you water.”
“Are you kidding?” Sean brushed his hair back in frustration. “Man, this sucks.”
“Get her out of here and don’t give me any trouble,” the bartender said.
“Come on, kid.” Sean stalked back to the door. Madison followed him.
“What are we going to do?” she asked.
“What choice do we have? You’re going to go home, that’s what.”
“But what about our date?”
“How can I date a girl who can’t even get into the Pinetop? I’ve been going there since I was thirteen!” He shuffled and stamped his feet. “I can’t date you if I can’t take you out, can I?”
We could go somewhere else, even Prescott’s, Mads thought sadly, but didn’t say it. He wanted what he wanted, and she was getting in the way. She shrank up inside, remembering how she’d felt when Yucky Gilbert showed up for their date. Was that how Sean felt about her?
“Does your mom know you’re here?” Sean asked.
“My mom!” Mads was indignant. “She doesn’t care what I do. She’s a drug dealer.” She didn’t know what made her lie. It just popped out.
Sean laughed. “Your mother’s a drug dealer? I don’t believe you.”
“Okay, she’s not a drug dealer. I just lied because I didn’t want to tell you the truth: My mom ran away to become a stripper. And my dad’s a pimp. I’m basically an orphan.”
“Cut it out,” Sean said. “You’re funny, but you’re still too young for me.”
“I don’t get it,” Mads said. “You dated Lulu Ramos last fall. We’re the same age. She’s in my class!”
“Really?” Sean looked surprised, as if she and Lulu Ramos couldn’t even be from the same planet. Lulu, it was true, wore lots of makeup, was always being sent home for dress code violations (bare midriffs, plunging necklines, microminis, and vinyl catsuits weren’t allowed at Rosewood), and was very sure of herself around boys. “That was different. Lulu seems a lot older than you. She’s, you know, more experienced. Maybe it’s because her mother was an Aerosmith groupie, I don’t know …”
Mads’ heart sank. The cause was lost, for that night at least. She knew when she was beaten.
“Look, it’s nothing personal,” Sean said. “Trust me, I’m doing you a favor. So, where’s your car? I’ll walk you.”
Ugh. The ultimate humiliation. “I don’t have a car. I can’t drive yet.”
“Oh. Well, how are you going to get home?”
“I—I guess I’ll call someone to come pick me up.” Mads’ phone beeped at that moment. It was M.C., calling to check on her. Mads took a few steps away from Sean for privacy. Maybe he had to know her mother was picking her up, but he didn’t have to hear her ask for it.
“Sorry, Mom—can you come back and get me?” Mads said, choking back tears.
“Of course, honey. Is everything all right?”
“It’s fine. But Sean called at the last minute and said he couldn’t make it. We’re going to reschedule.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Um, I have to wait for her at Prescott’s,” Mads told Sean. “She doesn’t like me to go to bars.”
“I’ll go over there and wait with you,” Sean said.
They perched on a picnic table under a yellow plastic awning and watched the cars swish by in the drizzle. Mads hoped at least they’d get to talk for a few minutes while they waited, but Sean’s cell phone rang. He answered it and started talking to his friend Alex. Mads sat and listened. “Dude, the Pinetop’s pretty quiet tonight,” Sean said over the phone. “But you should come by. That cute girl from Mill Valley is there. …”
Her mother pulled up in the Volvo, windshield wipers flapping. “That her?” Sean said. “The drug-dealing stripper?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Sean. See you around.”
“See you.” He nodded at M.C. through the window. Mads got up and ran to the passenger door and climbed inside. M.C. had the radio on, new wave oldies.
“Who’s that boy?” M.C. asked. “I thought Sean didn’t show up.”
“That’s just a friend of mine from school,” Mads said. “Can we go home now?”
M.C. peered into Mads’ face. “Is everything okay, honey? Are you disappointed about your date?”
Mads tried to turn her features to stone. She didn’t feel like breaking down over this in front of her mother. It would only add to the embarrassment.
“Honey?”
“No, Mom,” she snapped. “Don’t get all touchy-feely with me. Can we just go, please?”
“Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.” M.C. backed up the Volvo, pulled out into the street, and drove Madison home. Mads glanced back. Sean had already disappeared into the bar.
linaonme: he should have taken you somewhere else.
Someplace it’s not illegal for you to set foot in.
hollygolitely: he’s an asshole.
mad4u: no he’s not! I love him. even if he’s an asshole. But he’s wrong about me. I’m not too young for him!
linaonme: all right! Fight for your man!
mad4u: u know what the problem is? I’m not experienced enough. That’s what it is! He can see it on my face! he can tell I’m a virgin!
hollygolitely: I think you’re giving him too much credit.
mad4u: no. the questionnaires proved it. everybody else in school has way more experience than me. now it’s my turn. I’m going to show Sean I’m not some little kid. I’m a mature, sensual woman. Or I will be, as soon as I get a little experience. It will show on my face. Right?
linaonme: brilliant idea mads, sure to work.
hollygolitely: it’s totally crackpot.
mad4u: doubters. You’ll see. I’ll become a woman, and sean won’t be able to resist me. the only question is, how do I do it?
Mads logged onto the Dating Game chat room, using the screen name snow_white.
snow_white: students of rsage! I need your help. I’m a 15-year-old girl and I’m a virgin! I need some experience—now! what’s the best way to hook up with a boy?
r2d2: why don?
??t you just walk around naked?
digger90: who are you? I’ll take care of your little problem.
simsfan2: I know a secret potion that will make any boy fall in love with you. mix pomegranate juice with 3 cloves, a pinch of nutmeg, and 3 hairs from a burmese cat. Heat it on the stove. Spit in it. Add jello mix. Raspberry only. Refrigerate for 3 days. On the third day, chant this spell over the bowl—heema hama heema hair i. Serve to your victim. He will become your love slave.
digger90: What are you, ugly?
tanaquil: go up to the boy you like and lick his hand, it’s an animal signal. His primal urges will come out but he won’t know what’s happening to him.
roto: call him on the phone late at night, breathing heavily.
Don’t tell him who you are at first. His imagination will start to go crazy. He’ll have to have you.
breaker 19: wear those super-low-cut jeans and a tiny top. Shouldn’t take too long.
redmenace: find a really desperate boy, close your eyes, hold your nose, and think of viggo mortensen.
digger90: just pick a guy and lunge.
Digger90 made more sense than anyone, Mads thought. Just pick a guy and go for it. Why not? The perfect opportunity was less than a week away. Mariska Frasier’s party on Saturday night. It was no big deal—Mariska was a sophomore, so Sean would only show up if there was nothing better to do that night. But it was a good chance to put some of this advice to the test.
11
Hot for Teacher
To: linaonme
From: Your daily horoscope
HERE IS TODAY’S HOROSCOPE: CANCER: The bad news: Today you will sink to a new low. The good news: You won’t hit rock bottom—for a few weeks.
All right, Karl, let’s hear your latest proposal.” Dan leaned against the front of his desk with his patient face on, but Lina could tell he was struggling. Karl Levine still hadn’t decided what to do for his IHD project. Dan had rejected all his ideas so far, with good reason: they were all dumb, and most were illegal. Spying on his sister in the bathroom, putting a camera in the girls’ locker room, trying to get a date with his mother’s manicurist. Lina felt sorry for Dan that he had to pretend to tolerate so much stupidity. At the same time, she admired him for keeping his cool.