Times Squared (2 page)

But as she was telling me that, Sydney put her crutch down right on my foot. And I yelped! And the box fell open and a bunch of pictures came flying out!

“Oh no!” I cried. And then . . . Oh no.

They were pictures of people's faces from Drama Club.

“Oh, they're our headshots!” Sydney squealed.

We had gotten headshots taken. That was one of our twin-switch times. Sydney had dumped a bucket of dirty water on my head so Emma had pretended to be me for the photos.

And I was staring at the result. There was a picture that said
PAYTON MILLS
. And on it was Emma's face. Emma had her head crooked at a weird angle.

“Hey, it's me!” Emma said, leaning over.

I elbowed her. Nobody knew about that particular switch.

“I mean, it's
you
!” Emma said quickly to correct herself. “Payton.”

“Even they can't tell each other apart.” Sydney snorted.

“I must say, Payton, you look better than ever in that picture,” Emma said, grinning.

I tried to grab the picture off the floor but Sydney put her crutch on it and stopped me.

“Why is your head crooked?” Sydney laughed.

“It's at a twenty three-degree angle so that the light would reflect off her shiny hair,” Emma said. “Duh.”

“Then why is her barrette crooked?” Sydney asked. “And oopsie! Your lip gloss is smeared like a mustache. Heh.”

I glared at Emma. I used my twin telepathy to yell at her for not checking in the mirror before she got
my
headshot taken.

“Well, it's been swell, but I have to go,” Emma said. “Like we say in mathletes, be there or B squared.”

Augh
.

“Bye, Emma!” Tess waved cheerfully.

“Sydney, what are you doing?” I asked her. Sydney was knocking pictures around with her crutch, spreading them out even more.

“Trying to find my headshot,” Sydney said. “Yeesh, who
are
all these people?”

“You're making a mess—” I tried to say, but Sydney squealed.

“Squee! There's my headshot! Payton, pick it up off the floor for me since I'm injured?”

I picked up Sydney's model-perfect-of-course headshot and shoved it at her. Then I helped Tess pick up the rest of the pictures while Sydney gazed at her face.

“Oh, I love it,” Sydney cooed at her face.

“Tess, you look amazing in yours,” I said as I picked up her headshot. She did!

“Thanks!” Tess smiled, picking up the last picture. “Okay, I think we're good.”

We all walked slowly down the hall.
Really
slowly, as Sydney hobbled along trying to gaze at her headshot and walk on crutches at the same time. I followed Tess and Sydney into the auditorium.

“There's Nick,” Tess said, and we all went toward the front near the stage, where Nick was.

Nick! Okay. Nick. I took a deep breath in through my nose. Then I breathed out through my mouth. That was a trick Emma used when she was nervous about a
spelling bee or math competition. Because, yes, seeing Nick made me a little nervous.

It happened after the play and right before the cast party. I kind of sort of figured out that maybe I might kind of like Nick. And that also he might maybe kind of like me. And so I spent the entire cast party turning purple whenever he came by me. Pretty much we didn't say one word to each other.

Yes, I am awkward.

Sydney and Tess sat in the row in front of Nick. I sat down next to them. Okay, I just needed to turn around and say hi. A normal hello like friends would.

“Hiyo,” I said.

Nick looked at me funny. I turned back around and faced forward. Hiyo? Did I just say hiyo? I felt my face burning with embarrassment.

“
People!
Your attention, please!” a loud voice boomed out. It was Mrs. Burkle! Our drama teacher. “All eyes on me, please!”

I turned around and put my eyes on Mrs. Burkle. I tried not to think about Nick sitting right behind me. I wondered if he was looking at the back of my head. I hoped my hair wasn't messy. I smoothed it down. It was my best feature and I thought it looked especially shiny since I'd
gotten new conditioner. (That I had hidden in my closet to keep it away from Emma, who thought her hair was shinier than mine.)

“When I was a young theatrical ingenue, I had grand dreams of being on Broadway,” Mrs. Burkle told us. “However, that was not to be.”

Burkle paused and shook her head sadly. Well, that was kind of a downer.

“Mrs. Burkle!” Sydney raised her hand. “But if you had become a star, we would never have had you for a teacher.”

I rolled my eyes. Sydney was such a suck-up. It was so obvious to everyone (except teachers and parents, who ate it up).

“Ah, yes, Sydney. Blessings in disguise!” Mrs. Burkle said, perking up. “And now you will benefit even more! My college roommate has made it to the Broadway stage. Well, close. She is the director of an off-Broadway show!”

That was pretty cool. New York City was about five hours away from where we lived. Emma and I had been there once when we were five. I loved all the sparkly lights. Emma had loved counting the windows in the skyscrapers out loud (until our dad had paid her to stop doing it).

I was daydreaming about New York City so I almost missed Mrs. Burkle's major announcement.

“My friend has invited us to see her show. Which means . . . the Dramatic Geckos Club will take a field trip to New York City!”

Tess and I looked at each other. Sydney and I looked at each other. Everyone was silent for a second.

And then there were squeals, screams, and applause! Mrs. Burkle took a bow. And she deserved to!

We were going to New York City!!!!

AFTER EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES

Cell phone! My cell phone was ringing with the obnoxious (but #1!) pop song. I reached into pocket number three of my backpack to answer it.

“Hello?” I said.

“Emma, it's me,” my twin sister, Payton, said.

Uh-oh
.

“I'll call you back! Bye!” I hung up on her.

“Why didn't you tell her?” Ox asked.

We were walking out of mathletes, where we had just gotten some Exciting News. I looked at Ox. (
Ox!
The good-looking, popular athlete/mathlete who is—shockingly—my unofficial boyfriend. Unofficial due to
our parents saying we're too young for dating. Which is okay, because we both have academics and activities to concentrate on. . . .)

“Emma?” Ox's voice broke into my thought-babble.

“Oh, sorry,” I said. My face was probably bright red from embarrassment. “What did you say?”

“Why did you hang up on Payton without telling her what Coach Babbitt said?” Ox asked again.

“It's just that I have to phrase it carefully,” I told him. “Payton is going to be really jealous. She's been wanting to do this for
years
. I just don't want her to feel left behind.”

“How sweet,” a voice sneered behind me. “Emma thinks she's a Siamese twin, attached to her sister.”

I stopped walking and turned around. Jazmine James! My nemesis.

“Miaow,” Hector, her evil henchman, said.

“I don't think we're too attached,” I said haughtily. “I just care about her feelings. But you wouldn't understand that, Jazmine, since you don't
have
any feelings.”

“I have a
feeling
that you're going to
lose
the next mathletes contest . . . to me,” Jazmine responded.

“Miaow!” Hector repeated. “Cat fight!”

“Ignore them,” Ox advised. So I turned around
and walked down the hallway with him. I could hear Jazmine and Hector following not far behind us. I was so glad Ox was with me. He's not a big fan of the gruesome twosome, either.

My cell phone went off again. As the obnoxious pop ringtone played, I realized suddenly that the tune was not conveying the image of intellectual champion. I reached into pocket number three and answered the call quickly.

“Hey, it's me,” said Payton. “I have to tell you . . . I have exciting news!”

Hey. That's my line.

“So do I!” I said.

“I'm going to New York City!” Payton screamed.

Hey. That's my line. Although louder than I'd planned to deliver it.

“Wait, what?
I'm
going to New York City!” I told her. “Are you getting us mixed up?”

“No, you're mixed up,” Payton said. “I'm the twin in the Drama Club who's going to see an off-Broadway show in New York City!”

“Well, I'm the twin in the mathletes who is going to a state competition!” I told her. “In New York City!”

“Awesome times two! Woo hoo!” Payton yelled so
loud I thought I'd lose my hearing. In fact, so loud I felt like I could hear her outside the phone.

Ox and I turned the corner toward my locker.

“Where are—” I started to ask, when . . .
wham!

I crashed smack into Payton. Direct impact.

“Ow!” “Ow!” Our heads banged together. My backpack and Payton's tote bag tangled. One of us slipped, dragging us both down to the floor. We lay in a dazed, twisted heap.

“Oh, I guess they really
are
Siamese twins.” Jazmine James looked down on us. “This twin freak show has been entertaining, but let's go, Hector.”

Jazmine stepped right over us. Tess, who had apparently been with Payton, untangled our bags. She and Ox helped us to our feet.

“Well, that wasn't too humiliating,” Payton grumbled.

“Payton, Emma, are you okay?” Tess asked.

“Do you need ice packs or something?” Ox said. “I can run down to the infirmary and get them.”

“No,” I said, feeling a little wobbly. “I'm okay.”

Ox put his hand gently on my forehead.

He's touching me! Aaah!

“All right,” he said. “I'll text you tonight and check on you. If you're sure you're good, I've got to go meet my dad.”

“I'll be fine,” I told him. “Payton and I are getting picked up too. So we'll be with our mom.”

Ox took his hand off my head (sigh), and we all said bye. Then Ox left.

“Emma?” Tess said. “You look a little dizzy.”

“She's just swoony with love,” Payton said.

“Swoony? There is no such word as ‘swoony,' ” I said indignantly.
Quick, change the subject.

“Tess, how are you getting home?” I asked.

“The late bus,” Tess said. “Oh! The late bus! I'd better run! You sure you're okay?”

“Yes!”

“We're sure,” Payton insisted. “Go! I'll text you later.”

After Tess was gone, the hallway was quiet. Payton and I were alone.

“Let's go tell Mom about our trip,” Payton said.

Yay! Our trip!

We both started walking to parent pickup. I swung my backpack over my shoulder, but that knocked me off balance and I nudged into my sister.

“Watch out for me! Do you have a vestibular disorder or something?” Payton asked me.

She was joking about the first day of school, when my backpack had hooked onto the door as I was going
into science class. And slammed back into the door. Making a scene. Then later in the same class, I'd accidentally tipped my chair back while looking at a poster of Albert Einstein and . . . well, crashing to the floor made another scene. Which caused Jazmine James (nemesis-to-be) to spread a rumor that I had a vestibular (balance) problem. So people erroneously thought I was “dizzy.”

“That wasn't funny,” I said. “And, uh-oh, neither is that.”

I looked at Payton's face.

“Ugh.” I winced. “You have a black-and-blue mark on the right side of your forehead.”

“Emma,” Payton frowned. “You do too.”

We both whipped out our minimirrors and groaned.

“We're still identical.” Payton sighed.

“Identically injured,” I agreed. “But don't worry, I'm sure they will fade by the time we go to . . .”

“New York City!” we both yelled, and headed outside.

When I spotted my mother sitting in our car in the parking lot, I began running ahead. I wanted to beat Payton and be the first one to tell our mom the news.

“Guess what?” I said, breathlessly, jumping into the backseat. “We're going to—”

“New York City!” Payton screamed, flinging herself into the seat next to me.

We buckled ourselves in, talking over each other.

“Off-Broadway!”

“State mathletes!”

“Maybe we'll go see the Fashion District!”

“Or the Financial District!”

Payton did a little dance move in her seat.

“The Empire State Building! The Ferris wheel in Times Square!” she said, shaking her head and pumping her fists.