Free Give and Take by Laura Dower

room.
    “Over heeeeere!” her brother Chet said, imitating her. She promptly smacked him on the knee.
    Madison laughed and made her way up the row toward Fiona, Aimee, Hart, Drew, and the rest of the gang. Thankfully, they’d saved Madison a seat. And it was in the middle of everyone, not such a bad place to be.
    The band started its warm-up as more kids filed in. The teachers waited until the room was nearly packed before starting the vocal warm-ups.
    Tap, tap, tap.
    At three forty-five, Mrs. Montefiore tapped her music stand and asked the band to play some scales—finally.
    Do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, ti, do.
    It didn’t matter if some kids were off-pitch, like Madison. This was all about the experience and the act of trying to help, and not about being a supersinger, right? That was what Madison hoped.
    When Egg sang, every ahhh sounded like quaaack —like a duck.
    Hart rubbed his hands together when he was trying to remember words.
    Aimee bounced when she sang.
    Madison glanced around. Fiona was the most exciting. Her voice sounded like a flute, the way she jumped from high note to low note and back up again. And a few rows away, someone else was singing just as beautifully.
    Madison listened close, straining her neck to see.
    It was Ivy Daly. And she knew she was good. Ivy was flipping her hair before every chorus of “Sleigh Ride.” Madison watched her from behind.
    “‘Oh, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with yoooooo,’” Hart sang loudly and poked Madison in the back until she jumped.
    “‘Giddyap, giddyap!’” Egg cracked.
    “‘Giddyap, let’s go,’” Aimee trilled, bouncing her knees.
    “‘We’re riding in a wonderland of snooooooow,’” Fiona sang.
    Mrs. Montefiore stopped the class at least three or four times so the kids could get the lyrics and notes right. But Madison was more interested in the singers and not the song. She kept her eyes glued to the enemy.
    “Beautiful job!” Mrs. Montefiore exclaimed as soon as the band played the final note. “We’ve got a wonderful concert or two ahead of us.”
    The room buzzed with voices and energy—the holiday spirit Madison had in mind. Parents would love the concert at school. And the folks at The Estates would love theirs, too. Madison knew Mrs. Romano would be singing right along for sure.
    Kids hushed up as Mrs. Montefiore blew a new note into her gold pitch pipe. She frantically waved her arm into the air to get everyone’s attention for the start of the next song, “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch.”
    Madison snickered to herself. She remembered Fiona’s words from the very first meeting for the Winter Jubilee: “The Grinch song should be dedicated to Ivy and her drones.”
    That was no joke.
    “SNOW!” Madison screeched. “Look! Snow!” She held out her hand to catch a falling snowflake and watch crystals melt in her palm.
    Aimee stuck out her tongue to taste it. “I wish this came in chocolate or butter crunch,” she said.
    “Look, it’s the sticky kind,” Fiona said, leaning over to touch the sidewalk with her brown, knit mittens.
    The three friends walked home slowly from singing practice, evaluating the weather—and their fellow classmates—every step of the way.
    “Rose Thorn fell in dance class today,” Aimee said. “I started to laugh. We had visitors, and I didn’t want to act rude. But it was hysterical.”
    “How can you laugh at someone when she’s down?” Fiona asked.
    “You sound like a self-help commercial!” Aimee said.
    Madison grumbled. “Fiona, they laugh at us. Why can’t we make fun of them, too?”
    “Karma,” Fiona explained. “You get what you give.”
    Madison gasped. “What did you say, Fiona?” It was what Gramma Helen always said to Madison.
    “You get what you give, Maddie,” Fiona repeated. “If you’re mean to someone, then you’ll get meanness in return. I totally believe that.”
    “Wow-weeee,” Aimee joked.
    “Quit making fun,” Fiona said.