Times Squared

by Julia DeVillers

  “Okay, maybe I don’t want to sit with you, after all,” Payton grumbled.

  “Oh, you twins,” Tess said. “You’re like a comedy team.”

  I started to take a seat in the front. I couldn’t wait to hear the tour guide’s fascinating facts.

  “Oh, come on, the back is more fun,” Payton said, poking me to move on. Then she grinned. “Oh, looky, Ox is sitting near the back.”

  Why, yes, yes he was. Sitting near the back. I stood up and followed her to the back.

  “Emma,” Ox said. “Sit here!”

  Oh, yay. He pointed to the seat in front of him. Really pointed—with a giant foam finger with a baseball team on it.

  “Got this from the street vendor,” Ox said, poking me with the giant finger.

  I had a sudden flashback of how I had been given the giant foam finger at our first Geckos pep rally. Everyone in the gym had looked at me and I’d had to lead a cheer in front of the whole school. Then I remembered that it happened during our twin switch. I’d been pretending to be Payton! Ox had thought he liked Payton, but it was really me. It was crazy! But look how it worked out.

  Ox still liked me. Me!

  “Give me that.” I grinned and pulled the foam finger off his hand and put it on mine.

  I stood up on the bus seat and waved the foam finger.

  “Geck!” I yelled out.

  “What the heck?” Payton said, looking up at me.

  “Geck!” I yelled out even louder.

  “O!” Ox yelled back.

  “Geck!” I waved the finger

  “O!” everyone on the top floor of the bus screamed back at me.

  “Nice spirit!” Ox said admiringly.

  “Payton Mills, please do not stand on the seat!” Coach Babbitt called out. “Sit down and be safe!”

  Oopsie!

  “Hey, you just got me in trouble.” Payton took the foam finger off my hand and bopped me on the head with it.

  “Sorry,” I told her. “But that twin mix-up is understandable. Of course Emma Mills wouldn’t behave so crazylike.”

  “What have you done with my sister?” Payton asked me “You being silly in public?”

  “Pht,” I replied smugly. “That was nothing. I’m world-champion silly.” And about to prove it.

  Because that’s when I saw Nima coming down the aisle toward us. She had been down in line at the street vendor when I had last seen her. And I’d given her some money for a few souvenirs.

  “Here, Emma,” Nima said, stopping in front of me. She handed me what I’d asked for: two very tall foam hats as big as my head. One was a Statue of Liberty crown. I put it on Payton’s head.

  The other was shaped like the Empire State Building. I put that one on my own head.

  “See? I can be frivolous in the spirit of good fun,” I told her. “And fashionable, too! Thanks, Nima!”

  I shook my head so the spiky top of the Empire State Building wiggled. We all laughed.

  “Hey, there’s Nick!” Tess waved for him to come back our way. Nick, Sam, and Reilly came down the aisle carrying giant bags.

  “Whoa, Payton, Emma,” Nick said. “Nice hats.”

  “It was a present from Emma,” Payton said, and gave me a little hug.

  “Well, Sam and I have a present for everyone too,” Nick said, waving his bag in the air. “Street food!”

  “Hot dogs! Dosas!” Sam started passing out food to people.

  “Roasted nuts! Knishes!” Nick said. “Giant pretzels!”

  Everyone was like, No way! This is awesome!

  “Thank Mrs. James for the treats,” Nick said. “She got them for us.”

  “Seriously?” We all craned our necks to see Mrs. James squeezing into the seat where Jazmine and Hector were sitting. Jazmine was reading the tour map. Hector was looking squished.

  “Thank you, Mrs. James!” we all called out.

  “Meh.” She shrugged. “Jazmine thought we should feed the whole team. I don’t know where that came from, but—”

  “Thanks, Jazmine,” I called up to her.

  “Go, Geckos,” she responded dryly, and looked back down at her tour map.

  I took a pretzel. Payton took a dosa and Tess took a bag of honey nuts.

  “Let’s take a picture of us to send to Mom and Dad,” Payton suggested. She pulled out my phone and held it up. “Say, NYC!”

  “Mom and Dad will be thrilled to see us in our matching hats and dresses,” I said, leaning in.

  She clicked the picture just as Sydney and Cashmere came down the aisle toward us.

  “Nice hats, twins.” Sydney smirked.

  “Nice hats, twins,” Cashmere echoed.

  I ignored them as they sat in the row ahead and across from us.

  “Nice hats, twins!”

  “Okay, enough!” Payton growled and stood up. But I grabbed her arm and dragged her back down. Because Mrs. Burkle had said that last one as she came down the aisle.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Burkle,” I replied, patting my Empire State Building spiky top. “Sydney and Cashmere had just complimented us on them too.”

  “I didn’t know you had it in you, Emma,” Mrs. Burkle said. “You’re so free-spirited on this field trip. And perhaps you should join drama. Your frog was so convincing.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “But I’ll leave the drama to Payton.”

  “Ah, yes—Payton, improv at its finest!” Burkle smiled at Payton. “Perhaps a wee bit out of control, yes. But the audience loved you!”

  Payton was beaming! She had even been asked for an autograph after the show.

  “It has been a successful trip,” I mused as Burkle went up and down the aisle doing a head count. “Not quite what I expected, but a successful trip.”

  “You didn’t win the math competition, but you won the heart of Ox and an entire audience,” Payton said quietly.

  “Shh.” I looked up, but Ox hadn’t heard.

  “You got to spend quality time with Ashlynn,” I shot back. “And sing on a Broadway stage—so high-pitched it made dogs howl.”

  I smiled when I thought of the dogs. After the play Mrs. Burkle had told us that mathlete Ava had seen how poorly Ashlynn had treated the poofy Pomeranians. And Ashlynn’s mother said enough is enough; the dogs must go! So Ava had texted her parents, who gave her permission to adopt the puppies!

  “I can vouch for Ava’s family,” Coach Babbitt had told Mrs. Burkle. “They’re very responsible and supportive.”

  “Then Ava will give the puppies the love they deserve,” Mrs. Burkle had said. “Bebe, Barbra, and LeaMichele will want for nothing!”

  I smiled.

  “And, Emma,” Payton said, continuing the teasing, “you got to be a frog and jump awkwardly around in front of hundreds of people. But seriously, you did get up onstage with no fear. Remember when you were petrified to in front of people?”

  I did remember. I’d just about had a panic attack when I had to fill in for Payton, who was trapped under the stage looking for Mason’s runaway gecko, in the school’s Wizard of Oz play. But I’d actually been a decent Glinda the Good Witch. (Although what a relief when Payton emerged and took her rightful place onstage. She was a great Glinda.)

  “You’ve really expanded your horizons at school this year,” Tess said to me. “From fashion to being onstage to tutoring. What’s up next for Emma? Spirit Club with your foam finger? Cheerleading?”

  “Oh no, not Emma and cheerleading!” Sydney called out to us, groaning.

  “Don’t worry, Sydney,” I called back. “I’m not cheerleading.”

  “You could play football.” Ox leaned over to me and smiled. “With me.”

  “Actually, I’m still giving thought to water polo,” I said. “Adding a sport will make me rather well-rounded.”

  “What about you, Payton?” Tess asked. “Are you going to try water polo with Emma?”

  “Yeeps, no,” she said. “I’m kind of thinking, though, of taking dance lessons. That way, if Drama Club does
a musical, maybe I can be in it. Without tripping and hurting anyone.”

  “Speaking of dancing.” Nick leaned over from his seat. “Payton. Uh. There’s homecoming coming up in a couple weeks. Do you, uh, want to go to the dance with me?”

  “Yes!” Payton said.

  Yay! Yay for Payton! I was about to say, but the bus horn went off.

  Blarrrrt! Blaart!

  “Please be crackle crackle seated,” the tour guide’s voice said over a loudspeaker. “Crackle We’re off on our touronyorksty crackle, pop.”

  “They must be having technical difficulties,” Nick said.

  And then the bus took off down the street. I leaned back and felt the sun on my face. The wind blowing across my foam hat. Aahh . . . the sights and sounds of New York City.

  “Mmmmmmble. Crackle. Mmmmble.”

  And the sound of a malfunctioning loudspeaker.

  “I can’t hear what the guide is saying,” I complained. “All I hear is mmble mmble. How are we going to hear the fascinating facts about New York City?”

  “I’m sure you already know every fact about New York City,” Payton said.

  “That is true!” I perked up. “I have a near-photographic memory for trivia.

  “For example,” I said loudly as we cruised through Times Square. “Look over there. The LED electronic ticker tape displays letters and numbers that are ten feet high.”

  Payton groaned a little.

  “And for you Dramatic Geckos,” I said, forging on, “we’re now passing the oldest Broadway theater, the Lyceum Theater, built in 1903.”

  I noticed people starting to quiet down and listen.

  “And there’s Bryant Park!” I pointed out.

  “Oooh!” squealed Sydney from her row. “That’s where Colin Christopher won season six of Fashion Catwalk!”

  “I know!” Payton exclaimed. “I totally thought Lizzie had the best collection, though.”

  “Me too,” Sydney agreed.

  Then they both went silent. Sydney and Payton bonding? Awk. Ward.

  “Ahem,” I said. “Did you know that beneath the park is a storage area holding over seven million books?”

  “Really?” Mrs. Nicely piped. “They should be out and available to the public! With all the literacy problems we face, we need to get books in the hands of as many people as possible!”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Nicely,” I said. “But look! We’re at the New York Public Library, which holds more than seven million items that anyone is free to read!”

  “Emma, remember when we visited that library? When we were five? I was scared of those two lion statues, but the librarian in the children’s room was so nice I got over it.”

  “Oh yeah,” I said. “Miss Robbins! She told us the lions were kind and brave, and their names were Patience and Fortitude.”

  “Spell those, Jazmine,” I heard Mrs. James say.

  “Mo-ther!” Jazmine whined. (She whined? Who knew?) “Oh-kay. P-A-T-I-E . . .”

  “And here we are, already at Rockefeller Center,” I continued. “Where the Top of the Rock offers a full three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view.”

  “Ugh!” Cashmere said. “Three hundred sixty degrees? That sounds really hot! And sweaty! Who’d want to go there?”

  Silence from the mathletes.

  “I’m guessing geometry is not Cashmere’s strongest subject,” Tess said quietly.

  The double-decker bus was waiting for a light, to make a turn.

  “Hey, did you know that goods that were worth twenty-four dollars—or a thousand dollars today—were traded to acquire Manhattan from the Native American Lenape tribe?” Ox said.

  Yay! Ox facts rocks! I mean rock. I mean, his trivia facts are always interesting.

  “What a bargain!” my twin sister said.

  Sure. Now she enjoys trivia. When it’s someone else’s.

  “After the Revolutionary War,” Nima joined in, “the population exploded. From 1800 to 1900 it went from seventy-nine thousand to three million people! And now there are eight million New Yorkers in the city!”

  “Of all cultures and personalities,” Hector added. “Which is why I want to live here when I grow up.”

  “There’s the Empire State Building!” yelled a lot of people. We all looked up. Whoa. Dizzying. I focused on more facts.

  “Did you know that its high-speed elevators travel at up to one thousand feet per minute?” I announced. “And the world record for running up the 1,575 steps from the lobby to the eighty-sixth floor is nine minutes and thirty-three seconds!”

  “Cool!” I heard people say. This was awesome! Finally my wealth of trivia was being appreciated!

  “Emma.” Ox leaned closer to me. “Do you want to go to the homecoming dance with me?”

  I froze. Suddenly my tongue was tied.

  “Er—em—yeh. That would be—lovely.”

  That would be lovely? Huh? Was I in a British historical novel?

  “I mean, yes!” I regained my composure and smiled at Ox. (Ox!) Ox smiled back. (Ox’s smile! So cute!)

  “Well, okay, so there’s Madison Square Garden!” I went back to my tour-guide persona. “And we know what that means!”

  “Professional basketball!” Ox cheered.

  “Pro hockey!” Sam and Reilly shouted.

  “The Westminster Dog Show!” the eighth-grade mathlete Ava squealed.

  “Yay! Yes! Woohoo!” yelled all the sports fans and dog fans. Which was basically everyone not in the James family. And me. I had actually been thinking about Penn Station, which was underground beneath Madison Square Garden and served six-hundred thousand rail passengers each day.

  “Attention, Geckos!” Coach Babbitt turned around in his seat in the front and hollered back. “The bus driver apologizes for his sound system not working. He is willing to bring us back, and we can ride a different bus if you all wish to hear the tour facts from the beginning.”

  “No!” a whole chorus of kids yelled at once.

  “Coach Babbitt, we like this bus tour!” Tess called.

  “Keep this bus! Keep this bus!” people started chanting.

  “I’ll tell him everyone’s happy,” Coach called, and turned back around.

  “Thanks to Emma and her cool tour-guide facts,” Nick said loudly.

  The people around me began a new chant. “Em-ma! Em-ma!”

  I felt my face turn red. But it was a happy shade of red. Finally—finally—I was being appreciated for my passion for knowledge. And not in a competition, either. On a double-decker bus, in New York City, surrounded by my friends. And Payton’s friends.

  And Payton. Who was smiling at me. So I smiled back to make a mirror image.

  Then I looked around and said, “You know what’s made this tour—this whole trip—so great? It’s all of you. All of us. Team Gecko!”

  “Mmmble. Brooklyn crackle Bridge mmmble left,” the loudspeaker said. We all looked left.

  “Did you know—” I started to say.

  “Did you know—” Ox said at the very same time.

  We stopped and looked at each other.

  “That the total length of the Brooklyn Bridge is 5,989 feet from end to end . . . ,” I said, smiling.

  “And it took sixteen years from conception to completion . . . ,” Ox said, smiling back.

  “And it was finished in 1883 . . .” I poked him in the side with the foam finger. He grabbed it off my hand and started poking me back.

  “In 1883 . . . ,” I repeated, squirming. It tickled so much, I couldn’t finish my sentence.

  “In 1883, the same year the Metropolitan Opera opened on Broadway,” Cashmere said.

  Cashmere? We all turned to stare at her.

  “What?” Cashmere shrugged. “I like opera.”

  “Did I hear someone mention the Met?” Mrs. Burkle squealed. “I remember seeing the most exquisite performance of Madame Butterfly there. Of course, now the Met is located uptown in the same complex as the American Ballet Theatre and the New York City
Opera!”

  And then she burst into song!

  “ ‘Three little maids . . . ,’ ” she trilled.

  “ ‘From school are we!’ ” Cashmere sang, joining in with her.

  “Who is this?” Mrs. Burkle shrieked. “What a beautiful soprano voice! Why aren’t you in the dramatics club?”

  “Um . . . ,” Cashmere said. “Sydney says I have no star power?” Sydney sort of shrank down in her seat.

  “Who is in charge of the dramatics club?” Mrs. Burkle yelled. “Me, Mrs. ‘recognizes talent when she sees it’ Burkle! You, young lady, will be our star in the next musical!”

  Little gagging noises were coming from Sydney’s direction.

  “This is hilarious,” my twin whispered to me.

  “Could this tour get any better?” I whispered back. Then, poke. Tickle.

  “Ox, quit poking me.” I snatched the foam finger and bopped him over the head with it. But I was laughing, and so was he.

  “You two,” Payton sighed, “are perfect for each other. But you are starting to get on my nerves.” She stole the foam finger out of my hands and rose out of her seat, almost standing.

  She held the foam finger up high and yelled, “Go!”

  But before anyone could yell “Geckos!” we heard a—

  Thwap!

  A big, leafy tree branch smacked my sister directly in the face.

  Twenty-three

  DOUBLE-DECKER BUS

  Thwap!

  “Gah!” I sat down in my seat, hard. “I’m okay. I’m okay. Phttt-ew!” I spit out a leaf.

  “That thing just came from out of nowhere,” Emma said consoling me.

  “How, in the middle of New York City, do I get whapped by nature?” I complained.

  I felt somebody picking leaves out of my hair.

  “All gone, tree goddess,” said Nick. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Being called a goddess helps,” I told him. “Yeh, it just stings a little.”

  “Then I have some good news and some bad news,” Nick said. “The good news is you’re okay. The bad news is—er—I happened to be filming everybody having a good time, and I—um—caught the whole tree-in-the-face thing on video.”

  “Aack!” I reached for his minicamera. “Delete! Delete!”

  “No, keep it!” Sydney yelled. “Let me see it!”