Triple Trouble (13 page)

“Genius! We can film the competition on VOGS!” Jason clapped.

“Gak!” I sputtered. This was getting worse and worse!

“That's not a bad idea,” Emma said.

That's it. Emma was losing her mind.

“Emma, I need to talk to you
privately
,” I hissed.

I pulled her off to the side.

“A competition against the triplets filmed on VOGS?” I whisper-shrieked. “How could that possibly be a good idea? Just because you need to compete, don't drag me into it.”

“I admit, I get carried away when challenged with a competition,” Emma agreed. “But it has benefits for both of us.”

Benefits? Being humiliated on VOGS in front of the entire school? We'd already done that! When we'd done our first Twin Switch and then been busted on VOGS and gotten in a fight on VOGS!

“Think about this objectively for a minute,” Emma said. “You wanted to win a spot as a VOGS anchor,
right? So think about this: What does Mrs. Burkle want? An exciting VOGS cast that people will watch, so the principal will give her more budget and airtime.”

“How do you know these things?” I asked.

“Mrs. Burkle had me proofread her annual performance review when I finished my English test,” Emma said, and shrugged.

“So focus on your goal: making a splash on VOGS,” she continued. “With this competition, you'll be a traveling reporter who actually is part of the action. Instead of just standing and interviewing people we don't know.”

It would be something students would want to watch, I had to admit. But . . .

“But it could be embarrassing,” I said.

“But FUN embarrassing,” Emma said.

I opened my mouth to protest and then shut it. Since when did Emma think about FUN? I looked at her suspiciously. Whoa, I think Emma actually meant it. Emma was convincing
me
to have fun?

“Okay,” I said weakly. Then louder. “Let's do it.”

I marched back over to the triplets.

“We officially accept your challenge,” I said. “Multipalooza MILLS TWINS Versus Whatever Your Last Name Is TRIPLETS!”

“YEEESSS!” Mason and Jason hooted and pumped their fists.

Well, okay. Maybe we could have some fun with this.

“Twins Versus Triplets!” Emma pumped her fist and did an awkward little hoot. “Woot, woot!”

And the “fun” embarrassment had begun.

“We need to set some guidelines,” Emma said. “The competitions have to be fair since obviously you have three and we have two . . .”

“You two can take their three!” Mason cheered. “Twins rule, Triplets drool!”

“Triplets rule, Twins will be schooled!” a triplet responded.

“Yeah! SuperTwins rock!” New voices cheered from behind us. Sydney and Cashmere were bopping up, holding their SuperTwins posters.

“Emma and Payton are going to take down your SuperTwins!” Mason yelled.

“You're going to perform in a band too?” Cashmere asked us.

“Yeesh, no,” I said. Emma and I couldn't sing. That would be beyond embarrassing, and not the “fun” kind.

“Hey, Mrs. Burkle said she's almost done making
the VOGS arrangements,” Ox said as he walked up with Nick and the tech crew.

“What'd we miss?” Nick asked us.

MULTIPALOOZA TWINS VERSUS TRIPLETS DOUBLE-TRIPLE CHALLENGE!

It was ON!

MULTIPALOOZA MERCHANDISING

“Twins are TWICE as NICE!”

“We're TWINspiring!”

We all stood at the merchandising stand, looking at the T-shirts for sale.

“Oh, that one is perfect!” I pointed at a bright green shirt with glittery silver foil letters that said “Twins are TWO-riffic!” with two pink lipstick kisses on it.

“Yes, that one is a definite,” Payton agreed.

No, we hadn't lost our sense of fashion. We weren't picking out T-shirts for ourselves. We were checking out T-shirts we hoped the triplets would be wearing later today, on VOGS.

This was our bet: Whoever lost TWINS Versus TRIPLETS would have to wear T-shirts the other twins chose on VOGS. If they lost, we'd get to talk about why twins are better than triplets. I won't even mention the other outcome.

Of course, we'd be picking out “Twins are better”–themed shirts for the triplets to wear. I have to admit, I glanced over at the T-shirts in the triplets' section of the stand.

“Triplets are THREE TIMES the awesome!”

“Triple trouble!”

Some were really cute. Others were painful. I shuddered and hoped I didn't have to wear any of them.

“Heh!” Mason laughed and pointed at the stand. “That baby T-shirt says ‘Parents of twins have double duty.' Doody! Heh!”

“Think we can force the triplets to wear those?” I grinned at Ox.

“Checking out what you're going to wear later?” The triplets came up behind us, followed by Sydney and Cashmere.

“Choosing
your
clothes,” I said. “You can let the whole school know twins are better.”

“What do you mean wear later? The whole school?”
Cashmere asked. “Wait, you're not wearing those T-shirts to the school dance, are you?”

“No!” Not only did Payton and I yell that in unison, but the triplets did too!

“The losers have to wear them on VOGS,” Payton explained.

“Plus, we're not going to the dance,” one of the triplets added.

“You are now,” Sydney said. “I saw your mother at the sign-in area and convinced her to get you there, since it's your new school and you should participate. You'll just be a little late.”

“What?” the triplets said in unison.

“Sydney's date has food poisoning,” Cashmere explained. “So she needs a date. She chose you guys.”

Well, this was an interesting development! I looked to see the triplets' reactions. I seemed to recall they already had turned her down once.

“All of us?” a triplet asked.

“Don't you think you should ask us first?” A triplet turned to her.

“Hmmm. Remember when you asked me to autograph the pictures of you to give away after your performance today? The five hundred photos?” Sydney
asked, putting her hands on her hips. “And said you'd owe me one?”

“I didn't say that!” two of the triplets said.

“I did,” one groaned.

Heh. Usually it was annoying to see Sydney win and get her way. This time, it was actually entertaining. Emma was grinning too. Hee hee hee.

“Time to pay up,” Sydney said. “The SuperTwins are going to the Autumn Dance! And don't worry. I told my mom to pick out a corsage, so you don't have to worry about it. Pink and white.”

“Yeah, that's what I'm worried about,” the triplet next to me muttered. I was about to think of a good comeback when I noticed he was clutching his stomach. His face looked kind of greenish.

I recognized that look. It was a look I always tried to hide before sudden-death rounds in competitions. A combination of stage fright, competitive spirit, and possibly too much dairy. At least in my case. And the look of trying to hide it from everyone else so nobody would notice his nerves.

I'd been there. When he walked away, I wasn't surprised.

“Be right back,” I said to Ox. I followed the triplet.

“Hey,” I said. “You okay?”

“Me? Yeah, great,” he said. “Ready to beat you twins. Yeah.”

Then he clutched his stomach.

“There's a garbage can there,” I pointed out. “If you need to throw up. Do you want me to get your mom?”

“Aughhh,” he moaned. “No. Not yet. I just need a minute.”

“And an antacid?” I pulled a little bottle of stomach tablets out of my backpack.

“Thanks,” he said, taking one. “Wait, is this a trick? Are you trying to take me out of the competition?”

“Nah,” I said. “I fight fair. If you can't participate, there is no competition. Plus, I don't want you vomiting on the playing fields. I can recognize the signs of nerves anywhere.”

He ate an antacid tablet.

“Don't tell my brothers,” he said. “They call me the ‘wimpy triplet.' It's bad enough my mom calls me the ‘sensitive triplet.' ”

Aha, this would be Asher.

Asher's cell went off, and he pulled it out to read a text.

“Sydney says everyone has arrived, so get over there,”
Asher said. “I can't believe I'm going to the dance with that girl. She's going to boss us around.”

“Well,” I said carefully. “A lot of guys in school would be happy to go to the school dance with Sydney. She's in charge of the dance committee, so I'm sure you guys can rule the dance together.”

“I think I'll just stay home sick all day,” Asher said, clutching his stomach. “I can miss the dance and the performance.”

“You don't want to perform?” I asked him.

“Nah,” he said. “My brothers want to be rock stars. I get sick just thinking about being onstage later.”

He turned a darker shade of green.

“Diagnosis: stage fright,” I said. “What do you usually do to get over it before you perform?”

“I don't know. We've never performed before real people,” he said.

“So those stories about the SuperTwins being a big group in your old town?”

“We played in our garage. Don't tell my brothers I told you that,” he said. “The only reason we got this gig was because our aunt runs the event. We're going to make total fools of ourselves. I mean, we're okay on the guitars, but we really can't sing.”

“You sang on VOGS,” I said.

“The only three notes in the key we can pull off,” he said miserably. “Anything higher or lower . . . It's painful. I think my brothers are tone-deaf. They really think they're good.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I know what it's like to feel compelled to do something you don't want to do because of twin pressure.”

We had a moment of empathy between us.

“Usually when I am doing something humiliating, I just pretend I'm Dexter or Oliver,” Asher said. “Then people think
they're
embarrassing.”

We both laughed.

“But now we'll be onstage all together,” he groaned. “I can't hide. This is going to be the worst day. Performing, then having to go to this dance . . .”

Suddenly, I saw the other two triplets coming up behind Asher. I knew he wouldn't want them to see him being upset—especially talking to me.

“ . . . Having to wear a–T-shirt about how it's better to be a twin on VOGS,” I added loudly.

“Yeah and—wait, what?” Asher asked.

“Twins will win,” I said, confidently and very loudly.

“Twins will LOSE!” the two triplets yelled back.
Asher looked startled and turned to see them.

“Yeah!” Asher stood up straight and took a deep breath. “SuperTwins will win!”

“Why are you hanging out at the trash can, Wimpy Twin?” one of the triplets said to Asher.

“He's
trash
talking,” I said. Heh. That was pretty clever. “How is that wimpy? He thinks you guys can beat my sister and me? Ha!”

Out of the corner of my eye, Asher shot me a grateful look. I felt good about helping him feel better. But that was the last help he was going to get from me.

“Everyone's here, and the VOGS is set up,” a triplet said. “It's time.”

LIVE! FROM MULTIPALOOZA

“We're live from Multipalooza! A festival for twins, triplets, and multiple identicals! I'm Payton! And this is my—”

“Emma!” Emma said.

“Cut!” I said.

Nick put down the video camera.

I looked at Emma. “You're supposed to wait until I say ‘my identical twin.'
Then
you say Emma.”

“Sorry,” Emma said. “I thought you were saying, ‘And this is' and I was supposed to say my name.”

“It did look like that,” the girl who was backup for tech crew said. “Payton, you pointed at your sister, so it looked like she was supposed to—”