Times Squared

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Times Squared Page 2

by Julia DeVillers


  “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.

  I was so excited, I started seat dancing too.

  I did a (seated) moonwalk on the floor mats.

  “Whatever we get to do, it will be awesome, because it’s in New York City!” Payton said. “Well, except for your dancing. That’s not so awesome anywhere.”

  I was formulating an appropriately scathing remark when our mother interrupted our NYC fantasizing.

  “Girls!” She turned around to look at us. “This all sounds interesting, but first tell me—why are your faces all banged up?”

  “Oh yeah,” I said, remembering. “Minor collision.”

  “Totally accidental,” Payton said. “Can we have some ice when we get home?”

  “And a pain reliever?” I added. “I prefer ibuprofen, but acetaminophen will suffice. Payton, when we get home I want to do a search for the school where they’re holding the competition. And find out the previous winners. And—”

  “Maybe one of us will be discovered and become a Broadway sensation! As long as it’s not Sydney. Gag.” Payton gagged.

  “I’ll have to prepare extra hard if I’m going to destroy Jazmine James and the rest of the mathletes of New York State! I wonder what that T-shirt and trophy will look like? Obviously, totally impressive,” I mused out loud.

  “Excuse me?” our mother said. “Girls?”

  “What?” we both said, still half in our NYC fantasy worlds.

  “You’ve forgotten one little thing,” Mom said.

  “What?” I repeated, looking at Payton. She shrugged.

  “Your parents’ permissio
n,” our mother stated. “Your father and I will need to have all the information about this trip before we can make a decision.”

  A decision? Did she mean they might say no?

  I received a text. It read We ARE going. Mills twins in NYC!

  I texted back, You and me! NYC!

  It wasn’t grammatically correct, but I was pretty certain Payton wouldn’t notice.

  “Emma? Payton?” Mom said, pulling the car into our driveway. “Stop texting behind my back.”

  Ulp.

  We quickly stuffed our cell phones into our bags and tried to look innocent. Innocent and mature and responsible enough to go to . . .

  New York City!!!

  E + P = NYC.

  Now that’s a formula even Payton would like.

  Finally we were sitting down at the dinner table. Finally our parents were ready to discuss the trip to New York City.

  “I checked my e-mail,” Dad said, “and I received information from your school along with permission slips. The school will provide transportation. We are responsible for paying for the hotel.”

  Hotel?

  “Hotel?” Payton looked as puzzled as I felt.

  “It’s an overnight trip,” said our father. “Properly chaperoned, of course.”

  “Sleepover in New York City?” Payton squealed. “Squee! Eeeee! Yay!”

  Payton sounded like her usual airhead self, but she also looked even more silly than usual. Our ice machine was broken. So my sister was holding a bag of frozen peas against her forehead.

  I couldn’t make fun of her, though. I had a bag of frozen corn niblets against mine.

  “Mom, Dad,” I said. “May we peas go on the class trip to New York City?”

  “That was corny,” Payton shot back.

  “Okay, Veggie Twins,” our mother said, checking under our bags. “It looks like the swelling has gone down.”

  Whew. Emma and I put down our bags.

  “You realize that next weekend is my annual medical-supply conference,” our father said.

  “Oh!” our mother exclaimed. “I’ve got a speaking engagement at the science writers conference! The girls would have to go without us.”

  “There will be other chaperones there,” I said.

  “And we’ll be just a phone call away,” my sister reminded them. “Thanks to your generousness of giving us our own cell phones.”

  “Generosity,” I said, correcting her.

  “Whatever,” Payton said. “The point is that we will be extra good.”

  “And it is a wonderful opportunity for both of us,” I added. “May we go?”

  Our parents looked at each other. Payton and I looked at each other. It didn’t take twin telepathy to know we were both thinking, Say yes!

  “I’d say it’s a yes,” our father said, looking at our mom.

  “A double yes,” our mother said, looking at both of us. And smiling.

  “Aaaaaah!” Payton and I screamed, and jumped up from the table. “We’re going to New York City!”

  We danced and jumped around and screamed some more.

  “Give me those peas.” Mom sighed and held the bag up to her head.

  “It’s going to be a long two weeks,” Dad said, reaching for the bag of corn.

  Three

  FRIDAY AFTER SCHOOL IN THE SCHOOL PARKING LOT

  “Drama Geckos are in the spotlight!

  “Drama Geckos will go far!”

  Sydney was calling out a cheer for the Drama Club. We were all standing in front of the bus, waiting to board. It wasn’t even a yellow school bus! It was one of those big travel buses with the dark tinted windows!

  And it would take us to New! York! City! I was so cheery, I was even enjoying Sydney’s cheer.

  “Drama Geckos are in the spotlight!

  “Drama Geckos are superstars!”

  “Okay, now here are the motions we can do with it,” Sydney said. “Split, jump, high V, turn, and finish off with a back handspring!”

  Sydney flung herself backward and flipped over.

  Uh, I think I’ll stick to the yelling and clapping part. This would be an excellent time to start boarding the bus.

  “Come on, guys,” Sydney said. “Do the motions.”

  “Are you supposed to do that?” Tess asked her. “Be careful of your ankle.”

  “Doctor says I’m healed,” Sydney said. “So come on.”

  Tess copied Sydney’s jump and arm move thing and threw a back handspring. I stood there.

  “Payton, where’s your Drama Gecko spirit?” Sydney yelled loudly. “Jump, high V, and back handspring!”

  “Sydney, you know we can’t all throw back handsprings,” I told her. “I can barely do a round-off.”

  “Ohhh,” Sydney said, with a mock sad look. “That’s really sad.”

  She threw another back handspring and cheered loudly.

  “Go Drama Geckos!”

  Bleh.

  “Go Gecko mathletes!” someone yelled back.

  A crowd of mathletes were standing in a clump at the other end of the bus.

  “Yeah! Gecko mathletes rule!” someone yelled. Oh, great. That was my sister, leading a new cheer.

  “Trapezoid, octagon, dodecahedron!

  “Bring your A-brains ’cause the competition is on!”

  Emma’s fist pumped above the crowd. Agh.

  “Good thing your sister didn’t try out for cheerleading either,” Sydney muttered to me.

  “Oh, Emma would never want to be a cheerleader!” Tess said cheerfully. “When would she have the time? Mathletes, spelling bee. Science Olympiad. Payton, your sister is a true role model.”

  That was true. And I was proud of her. But maybe not at this exact moment, as Emma added an awkward jump and clap.

  “Keep trying, math people,” Reilly, one of the cutest boys in drama club, snorted. “Drama Geckos rule. Especially since our cheers make sense.”

  We all watched the mathletes cheer. I had to stop Emma. I pulled out my cell phone to text her that.

  Brrrzt!

  My phone was vibrating. Oh, I had a text message from my mom waiting.

  Remember both of your bags! Xoxo Mom

  Yup, I’d remembered my bags. I had a little rolling suitcase that was bright green. I was carrying it very carefully because there was something very, very important in it.

  My dress!

  I was bringing a dress I’d been saving for a special occasion. It was the most beautiful dress I ever owned! It was a Summer Slave dress. This past summer, I’d gone to camp with a bunch of girls who were total fashionistas. One of them was a girl named Ashlynn. She had the coolest clothes, and she traded me some of them in exchange for doing her bunk chores.

  To get this dress, she made me go to the canteen every day and wait in the long line to get her a frozen fruit bar. (Okay, that part wasn’t so bad. But she also made me curtsy in front of the whole cabin when I gave it to her. Totally embarrassing, I know, I know!)

  But the dress really was worth it.

  I also had brought a tote bag with things for the bus:

  iPod with my new mix

  Lip gloss (apple flavored, for the Big Apple!)

  Watermelon gum

  Water bottle

  Mostly I figured I’d be talking with people, though, like Tess! Tess had asked me if I wanted to sit with her on the bus. Definitely.

  I was a little worried about Emma. The Drama Club was sitting at the front of the bus. The mathletes were sitting at the back of the bus. Usually on buses I sat with Emma. I hoped she had someone to sit with.

  I looked over to check on her. Thankfully, she had stopped cheering. But also . . .

  Ooohhhhh!

  She was talking to Ox. Ox! Maybe she’d sit with Ox on the bus! That would be so, so sweet. Sharing a bus seat, a love seat, to New York City together.

  So romantic!

  Ox walked away and Emma stood there smiling. I went over to Emma and squealed.

  “What?” Emma sai
d to me.

  “You and Ox!” I squealed.

  “Yes.” Emma sighed happily.

  “You and Ox, sharing a seat on the bus to New York City.” I clapped my hands. “It’s so, so romantic.”

  “And so, so not happening.” Emma shook her head and frowned. “I’m sitting with Nima. She’s in mathletes.”

  “Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?” Emma asked. “I asked her to sit with me. This is a mathletes competition. Nima aces her conic geometry questions, which as you know, is my weakest section, so she’s going to dissect previous years’ problems. See how much better that works out?”

  Um, no.

  “No distractions,” Emma said sternly. Then she smiled. “Until maybe after the mathletes competition.”

  Bus ride home = Emma + Ox! Romance!

  “Dramatic Geckos!! Be ready to board!” Mrs. Burkle was yelling.

  “Okay!” I said. Then I leaned over and gave Emma a huge hug.

  “Even for a Dramatic Gecko, you’re being a little overly dramatic,” Emma pointed out. “We’re going to be on the same bus.”

  “But still! You’ll be in the back with the mathletes. I’ll be in the front with the drama crew. We go our separate ways, and then the next time we meet we’ll be in New! York! City!”

  Emma shook her head as she walked to the mathletes line.

  “See you in Manhattan!” I called to her as I went back over to the drama group.

  And then we climbed on the bus! It was huge! There were doors in the front and near the back. The seats were high and soft and separate from one another. There were two seats on each side of the aisle.

  I followed Tess until she stopped at a row halfway to the back.

  “How’s this?” she asked me.

  “Great!” I said, and Tess sat down in the seat by the window. I stuffed our bags in the overhead above us.

  “Here’s a seat!” someone across from me said.

  Cashmere? Sydney’s BFF (best friend/follower).

  “Cashmere?” I said. “You’re not in Drama Club.”

  “She is now.” Sydney followed behind Cashmere. “She just joined.”

 

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