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gritted her teeth and stayed put. Luckily, by the time her own turn to serve came up, she got two points right away. Even Ivy couldn’t argue with success. On the next go-around, all of Ivy’s serves went under the net.
    After a few more rounds, someone yelled out that it was almost two-thirty. Madison and the rest of the group started to head back toward the docks for one last swim or canoe ride.
    “So—are you guys going swimming?” Ivy asked. “Me and Joanie are. Since we got here late, I mean.”
    Hart turned to Madison. “Want to go back in the water?” he asked her.
    “Uh, no,” Madison said quietly.
    “I promise I won’t splash you this time,” Hart said.
    Ivy chuckled.
    Madison wanted to slug them both.
    “Well,” Hart said. “I’ll see you later.”
    “Yeah, later, Maddie,” Ivy said. She had gotten what she wanted. Ivy ran ahead to the lake without any competition.
    While Madison kept her distance from the docks, Aimee and Fiona raced to take a kayak out for one last go around the lake. Madison sat down on her towel and just stared out at the water, wishing that she didn’t have to leave these friends and head to Chicago that weekend. The lake had turned so many shades of blue during the day. Just like Madison felt.
    Out of nowhere, Hart appeared.
    “Good volleyball game, Finnster,” Hart said, sitting down right next to Madison on the sand.
    She looked up, surprised. “Thanks, I guess,” she said.
    They sat in silence for a moment or two.
    “Hey, I like your T-shirt,” Hart said, tugging at its edge.
    Madison pulled away a teeny bit. “Yeah, it got all wet before, but the sun dried it out. I guess it’s silly that I didn’t just take it—”
    “Huh?” Hart asked, distracted.
    “Nothing,” Madison said. Was he listening to her?
    “Aimee told me you won’t be at the Fourth of July,” Hart said.
    “No,” Madison sighed dejectedly.
    “Bummer,” Hart said. “Everyone’s going to be there. It would be cool—”
    Splash! Splash!
    “Aaah!” Madison wailed.
    While Hart had been talking, Madison had gotten doused with a bucketful of water. Her hair dripped wet.
    Egg jumped out from behind, cracking up. He was holding an empty pail of water. Chet was standing next to him laughing just as hard. Hart couldn’t help but laugh, too.
    “Why did you do that?” Madison screamed. She felt a surge of summer heat inside herself—nerves, anger, and most of all, embarrassment.
    “Lighten up, Maddie,” Egg said. “It’s just for fun!”
    Madison threw a fistful of sand toward him, missing completely.
    Had Hart just been the decoy? Madison looked at Hart as he ran off behind Egg and Chet. She stood up and wrung out the bottom of her T-shirt.
    “Hey, Madison!”
    Madison looked up. Hart was running back over to her.
    “I almost forgot,” Hart said, tossing something onto the towel next to Madison. “I found this before. I think it’s yours.”
    He ran off to the dock, quickly diving into the water before Madison even had a chance to say a word back.
    She sighed when she saw what he’d left behind. There on the towel was the tortoiseshell hair clip she’d lost hours before.
    Back home that night, a slightly sunburned Madison searched her e-mailbox for a new e-card from Bigwheels. But there wasn’t any. In fact, Madison didn’t have any mail at all, which was rather depressing, considering that it was summer. Didn’t everyone write on his or her computer as much as she did?
    The home page on her favorite website, TweenBlurt.com, announced special summer chat rooms, a what-l-did-for-my-summer-vacation writing contest (Madison was thinking about entering that one), and, of course, “Ask the Blowfish.” This was the advice section of the site. She clicked on a puffy-looking fish swimming around on-screen. When a bubble appeared, she punched in a superimportant question about life. After that, all she had to do was wait for a wise, fishy fortune to appear.
    She typed: Will I have a