"Madison," she corrected. "I go by Madison. And no. I don't make it a habit to lounge around in laundry rooms."

"So just mine then? I feel so special."

The conversation lulled into a comfortable silence. Neither moved, content to sit and listen to the faint sound of people chattering outside. Madison's eyes strayed to a black windbreaker with white initials and a yellow logo lying on top of the dryer. She hated the familiar looking jacket. Hated everything it represented. Swallowing the lump of resentment stuck in her throat, she looked away.

"Rough being a cop's kid." His voice was deceptively light.

"You don't seem to have a problem with it." She'd noticed the ease of his family's interaction right off the bat. They laughed and teased each other, no sign of strain between father and son.

"We have our issues just like everyone else, but for the most part it's good."

"You're one of the lucky ones then." Her mother and her weren't so fortunate. She knew her mother's job was important, she solved cases and put criminals' behind bars, but it came at a high cost. Growing up, she was never around. She missed Madison's recitals and soccer games, science fairs and open houses. She never made items for the bake sale or participated in the PTA. She hadn't even been there for Madison's first period. Freaked out, she told her dad, who in turn freaked out and called their next-door neighbor, Mrs. Burns. Unfortunately, Mrs. Burns was an eight-five year old lady who kept pinching her cheeks and calling her a "real woman."

"Maybe things will get better now that you've moved."

She highly doubted that. Sixteen years of broken promises and missed holidays didn't disappear overnight. "You're a real Pollyanna for someone who considers themselves to be a journalist."

"Have to start somewhere. Besides, I have a few years to go before I become a full blown cynic." He stood up and straightened his shirt. "What do you say we venture out and get some lunch? I think my dad is finally done grilling the meat." Madison hesitated, not sure if she wanted to face more people. "Or we can hang out here," he offered.

Guilt nudged her conscious. Clearly, he'd been tasked to fetch her. Poor guy didn't know what he signed up for. She should quit being so difficult and suck it up. She went to stand when he spoke again.

"You know, this meeting in the laundry room has really enlightened me. I found a whole new appreciation for them. Thank you."

"It's my calling in life."

"One day we'll have to try out the pantry in the kitchen. Not only is it impeccably clean, but it's also stocked with copious amounts of food."

The corners of her lip twitched as they walked out into the hallway. "I don't know. You could be luring me there for some nefarious reason."

"Gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins." 

"Nice to see yo—"

"Madison!" She turned to see her mother's scowling face. Her mouth set in a firm line Madison was accustomed too. "Where have you been? You went to the bathroom forty-five minutes ago and never came back."

"You know how it is Mom. When you have to go, you have to go," she said in a flat voice.

The lines bracketing her mother's mouth deepened as she planted a hand on her hip. It was a familiar pose; one indicating a lecture was about to come. Already tuning her out, she started playing with the ends of her hair. The strawberry blonde curls were the only feature she gained from her father. Everything else was the mirror image of her mother. She had the same pale skin, light green eyes, Cupid's bow lips and round chubby cheeks. She even had the dusting of freckles that dotted the bridge of her mother's nose.

"—and I don't understand why you can't for once speak to me without sarcasm. It's—"

"Mrs. Chase," Carson politely interrupted, "I'm afraid it's my fault she was gone so long. We were talking and lost track of time."

She sent him an indulgent look. "Thank you for defending her Carson, but there's no need. I know my daughter." Then she turned to Madison and said, "We'll continue this discussion at home."

"I look forward to it," she said to her mother's retreating form who threw her a warning look over her shoulder. "Another happy day at the Chase household," she muttered under her breath.

"Give her a break. She was worried about you. It's in a cop's nature."

She threw him an accusing glare. "I was wrong. You're no Pollyanna. You're a Boy Scout."

"I'm guessing by the disdain and contempt in your voice you're not a fan?"

"I find do-gooders exhausting."

"You'd rather I be eternally optimistic than someone who always does the right thing?"

"Yes."

If she expected him to scoff and ridicule her she was sorely mistaken. Instead, his face was one of delight, as if he discovered a new planet.  

"You're a fascinating girl, Madison Chase."

"I'm really not," she answered honestly.

"Well, now that I've done my good deed for the day I'll leave you to your hiding. Wouldn't want to expose you to any more of my toxic altruism." He winked at her. "See you around, Maddy."

A large stack of folders landed in her lap, breaking her reverie. Startled, she realized Carson had been speaking for quite some time.

"—and don't forget that besides being the sport's editor, Adam also helped me with the feature section. I have a couple ideas I want to run past you." He rummaged around his desk, lifting newspapers and toppling over stacks. "I know it's here somewhere..."

Her fingers itched to push him aside and start organizing. She'd done it once, categorizing and filing everything while he was out of the classroom. He didn't yell or berate. No, Carson Marks did something much worse. He forced her to work at his messy desk for a week without being able to move one single thing. She admitted—albeit grudgingly—it was an adept punishment. And while she sat at that desk moaning and groaning, her estimation of him grew. Not only was he smart, but he was clever too.

"Here it is." He held a ripped piece of paper. For the next half an hour they discussed the pros and cons of each suggestion. They differed in opinion quite a bit, but it felt natural and organic, each playing off each other's thoughts. As they packed up their belongings, Carson asked, "Are you coming to the cross-country meet this Wednesday?"

She thought of the study group Avery invited her to. "I'm not sure. I may have other plans."

He hitched his backpack over his shoulder and held the door open for her. Her arm brushed his as she passed. She never noticed it before, but he was a couple inches taller than her. "Well, if your plans fall through, you should come. It'll be a great meet. We're competing against Crosswell."

"That's your rival school right?"

"Our rival school. You go here too."

She waved aside his comment. "Do we have anyone covering it?" The newspaper tried to report every sports event, not just the football games. 

"I believe Daniel is, but there's no reason why you can't come too. You can even sit in my cheering section."

"How magnanimous of you."

"Must be the do-gooder in me. My friends and I usually get something to eat afterward. If you can't make the track meet, maybe you can join us there."

Two offers in one day? It was enough to give her a complex.

They reached the end of the hallway and stopped. Carson motioned over his shoulder to the track and field area. "I'm going this way."

"My car is parked over there," she told him, pointing in the opposite direction. She shuffled her feet, suddenly feeling awkward. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow during class."

His dimples peeked out from his cheeks. "Till then, Maddy."

She shook her head and walked away. She hated that damn nickname.