Times Squared

by Julia DeVillers

  “Hey, Payton,” Emma said. “Lighten up. It’s one more wacky moment from this trip.”

  Emma was telling me to lighten up?

  “A really whack-y moment,” my twin added.

  “Okay, okay,” I said. “Nick, you can keep it. As long as I didn’t look too dumb. Did I?”

  “You looked cute,” Nick assured me.

  That was nice, even if he wasn’t telling the total truth. Although I hoped he was.

  “You looked ridiculous!” Sam laughed.

  “In the best possible way,” Nick added.

  “Look! Look! It’s the Statue of Liberty!” somebody called from up front.

  “We’re at Battery Park,” Emma said. “Just offshore is Ellis Island, where half of today’s American population can trace their roots. Almost twelve million people passed through its gates as they immigrated here.”

  The bus slowed to a stop at the side of the road. We all posed for photos with the Statue of Liberty in the background.

  When the bus began moving again, everybody with a camera phone started sending pictures.

  “I’m sending one to Mom and Dad,” I said.

  “I’m sending mine to Quinn,” Emma told me. “My friend Quinn. She couldn’t come because she’s not a mathlete or in drama.”

  “I know who Quinn is.” I rolled my eyes. Emma was so proud of having her first real, non-competition-related friend. Actually, I was happy for her. “Tell Quinn I say hi.”

  We were all so busy sending and texting, we didn’t notice when the bus began to head north.

  “Looks like we’re heading back,” Emma said.

  “This has been one pretty amazing trip,” Tess said. “I’m glad I got to share it with you twins.”

  Awww.

  “Oh, I don’t want this trip to end,” I said. “It’s been so much fun.”

  Emma got a text on her phone.

  “It’s a text from . . . Mason?” Emma groaned. “Oh no. He says he and Jason got their own cell phones from the giant Apple store. And now he can text me all the time.”

  Brrrrzt. Brrrrzt. Emma’s cell phone kept getting texts.

  “And apparently he means all the time,” Emma sighed. “It’s a picture text. What the heck is it?”

  I peered over her shoulder closely.

  “I think it’s Mascot the gecko’s eyeball,” I said. “Extremely close-up.”

  “Ack!” Emma said. “Yeeks! Ick! Those boys are crazy!”

  “You have to admit, they aren’t boring.” I laughed.

  “That is true,” my twin admitted.

  The breeze blew through our hair, and the sun shone down.

  “It’s a good thing those twins aren’t here,” Emma said. “Because the ultimate sparkly, shiny thing is just up ahead. Mascot the gecko would have gone nuts.”

  “Wow, that skyscraper is beautiful!” I said.

  “I have one more fact to share with you all before this tour is over,” Emma said, speaking loudly in her tour-guide voice. “That is the Chrysler Building. It is considered one of the city’s best-known buildings because of the shiny steel spire on top. But on the outside there are creatures made of steel as decoration. And you know what they are?”

  Everyone was listening.

  “Gargoyles!” Emma said.

  “Like the home team at the mathletes competition?” Tess asked.

  “Exactly.” Emma nodded.

  “Well, good-bye, gargoyles!” I called out as the bus passed the building. “And Go . . .”

  “Geckos!” everybody shouted.

  This time, no tree attacked me. So I said it again—“Go!”

  “Geckos!” Everyone was cheering. Well, except for Jazmine James and her mother, who were looking at some sort of study-type book.

  Well, some things never change. And some things I never wanted to change.

  “You know, Emma,” I said, “there may always be mean girls and confusing boys and middle school madness. But one thing I know is that I’ll always have you.”

  “Awww,” my sister said. “Payton, I don’t say this often enough, but I am glad you are my twin.”

  “I love being twins too.” I smiled.

  “Even when you’re called the wrong name?” Emma asked. “Or when you get in trouble when I’m at fault? Even when you almost lost your chance at getting your first boyfriend because people thought he liked me? Or even when you’re trapped under a stage while I perform—not very well—as your stand-in double?”

  “Even with all that,” I said, laughing. “And also when we have to answer stupid twin questions, and when people compare us to each other, and I have to say for the zillionth time that I have the bigger nose.”

  “What about hiding in the janitor’s stinky closet?” Emma giggled, remembering where we’d first switched places.

  “Okay, don’t remind me.” I shuddered. “Anyway, our switching days are done. In the past. No more trading places or faces. I’m Payton, and I like being me very much.”

  I had a flashback to the first days of middle school, when I tried so hard to be like Ashlynn and fit in with the popular girls. Wow. I had come a long way.

  “Remember the first day of middle school, when I was so intense and socially clueless?” Emma asked. “And then we switched and both of our lives changed forever? You got drama and VOGS cast and Nick and Tess. I got to face my fears and get some balance in my life. And a real friend and a great boy-more-than-just friend. If we hadn’t switched, I’d never have gotten to know Quinn and Ox.”

  “True.” I nodded.

  “So we probably won’t have to switch ever again,” Emma said.

  “But if that’s what it takes to help each other out, maybe—just maybe—we’d do it again?” I asked her.

  “Never say never,” Emma agreed.

  “Just twins forever,” I added.

  And that deserved a twinky swear. We linked pinkies.

  Who knew exactly what the future would bring? But as the double-decker bus pulled into Times Square, I was confident about one thing.

  “Ready?” I asked Emma. She nodded.

  “Twins forever,” we both said. “Twinky swear.” And we shook on it.

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks squared to:

  The family: Greg Roy, Adam Roy, Dave DeVillers, Jack DeVillers, and Robin Rozines.

  The Simon & Schuster crew: Bethany Buck, Fiona Simpson, Mara Anastas, Alyson Heller, Paul Crichton, Andrea Kempfer, Lucille Rettino, Bess Braswell, Venessa Williams, Karin Paprocki, Katherine Devendorf, and Angela Zurlo.

  The agents: Alyssa Eisner Henken and Trident Media Group; Mel Berger, Graham and William Morris Endeavor Agency.

  And: Mark McVeigh, Lauren Heller Whitney, Anna DeRoy, Anne Elisa Schaeffer, Daphne Chan, the Ginley girls, and Meridian and Adrienne.

  And: Paige Pooler! Paige Pooler! Paige Pooler! (For three amazing book covers!)

  Read on for more twin-tastic adventures with Payton and Emma in . . .

  By Julia DeVillers and Jennifer Roy

  One

  ON THE MORNING SCHOOL BUS

  Sunglasses! Did I remember to bring sunglasses?

  I opened my tote bag and scrounged around looking for them. I felt my brush and mirror. My cotton-candy- flavored lip gloss. A chocolate-chip granola bar for after school.

  And, phew, my sunglasses. I pulled out the pair of huge, round, white plastic sunglasses from my bag. I was going to need them after school for Drama Club. We were each supposed to bring a prop to fit the scene. My group was going to act out a scene on the beach, so I thought sunglasses would be perfect.

  Plus they were cute. I slid my sunglasses on and chilled, just looking out the window of the school bus. My sunglasses made it a little more challenging to see, but there really wasn’t much to look at anyway. The usual houses, trees, people waiting for the bus. Definitely not as exciting as the bus I had been on earlier this week. That bus was a double-decker bus. In New York City!

  Yes! I went to New York
City with the Drama Club. We went to see our drama teacher’s friend who was producing an almost-on-Broadway show. It was amazing! We went on the double-decker bus and toured the city. We also went to a giant toy store, stayed in a cool hotel room, and swam in the hotel pool.

  And if that wasn’t amazing enough . . .

  We got to go onstage in the off-Broadway show! It was almost like we were Broadway stars!!!

  Oh, and by we, I mean me and my sister, Emma. My twin sister. Emma and I look pretty much exactly alike.

  I’m PAYTON, the twin who:

  • is one inch taller.

  • has slightly greener eyes.

  • is dressed quite fashionably in her black T-shirt with the word “Broadway” across it in glitter, skinny jeans, and tall boots and is sitting in the back of the bus, where it’s coolest to sit because it’s bumpy. (And farthest away from the bus driver, of course.)

  Emma has the opposite opinion about where to sit on the bus. Emma always sits in the front seat for everything—buses, classes, and even the front seat of the car. She always wants to be up front and first for everything.

  I’m the twin who likes to chill in the back. Unless there’s a stage involved. Then I want to be front and center. Yes, I love acting. I love being in Drama Club at school and in school plays. And when my parents let me do two clubs, I could be on camera for VOGS club. VOGS is the school’s video news show.

  My parents made me stop doing VOGS, though, because I bombed a test and a quiz in English. Sigh. My parents told me I had to choose between Drama Club and VOGS until I could get my grades back up. I chose drama, but I also want to be in VOGS. I loved being on the school news show and had turned out to be kind of good at being on TV. My English teacher, Mrs. Burkle, was also my drama teacher, so I was hoping to extra-impress her at Drama Club today. It couldn’t hurt!

  I pictured it now.

  “Payton, your acting is so fabulous that I will also give you extra credit in English class!” Mrs. Burkle would say. “A++!”

  Okay, unlikely, I know. But at least I still got to be in Drama Club.

  Emma wasn’t in the Drama Club or VOGS. But somehow she kept getting sucked into performing onstage and on-screen—usually pretending to be me. It had happened our very first week of school. It had happened in our school play. And it had happened on our trip to New York City.

  This last twin switch was pretty epic, not only because we were on an almost-Broadway stage. We also got to get back at this girl Ashlynn who was trying to humiliate us and our classmates on our school trip.

  I had been surprised to see Ashlynn. She lived in NYC, so I hadn’t seen her since she tortured me at summer camp last year. Ashlynn had pretty much turned me into her slave, making me clean things in exchange for her hand-me-down clothes. At the time I’d thought it was worth it so I could look cool in middle school. Let’s just say it didn’t work out as planned.

  But we prevailed in New York City, and now Ashlynn would never bother me again—muah-ha-ha!

  “Why are you making those weird cackling sounds?” A girl who had just boarded the bus stopped in the aisle and looked at me. Oh. It was Sydney. She wasn’t as bad as Ashlynn, but let’s just say she’s not my biggest fan.

  During the first week of middle school I’d thought Sydney would be the cool kind of friend to have. She was already the center of attention, had great clothes, and seemed to know all the cutest guys. Instead, she’d turned out to be a major mean girl. Especially to me. She turned on me after an incident where I’d tripped at lunch and my burrito went flying and oozed all over people.

  Anyway, Sydney usually didn’t ride my bus. I hoped she hadn’t moved to my neighborhood and would be riding my bus permanently.

  “Move,” she commanded two kids who were sitting in a back seat across the aisle from me. Because she was Sydney, they obeyed and scrambled out to sit somewhere else. Sydney slid into the seat and stretched her legs out, putting her feet (in cute olive espadrilles) across the seat so nobody would sit there.

  “Well, hi, Payton,” Sydney said. Hmm. Sydney and I had become temporary allies versus Ashlynn in New York City. So maybe things had changed for the better.

  I cautiously said hi back.

  “Those kids thought they were cool enough for the back seats. Pfft, I don’t think so,” Sydney scoffed. “But apparently, Payton, you think you are. And you think you’re so cool that you even wear sunglasses on the bus.”

  Things had not changed for the better. I reached up to take my sunglasses off but realized that she’d know I cared what she said. And I didn’t. La la la, ignore. I kept my sunglasses on. I did, however, tell myself not to make that cackling sound again. I dropped my hands and pretended to be busy looking for something important in my bag. Yes, very important.

  “Are you wearing sunglasses because you think you’re a major star now?” Sydney kept going. “A glamorous off-Broadway star?”

  La la la, not bothering me at all.

  “Or,” Sydney kept going, “are you wearing sunglasses so people won’t recognize you? After you and your twin totally embarrassed yourselves on school TV when you got in that huge fight, I don’t blame you for trying to hide.”

  Oh, ugh. That was weeks ago! I was hoping everyone had forgotten about that disaster. Emma and I had started our middle school careers as the twins who had switched places, fooled everyone until they were busted, and been filmed on school television making complete idiots of themselves.

  But that was supposed to be totally in the past. And I wanted to keep it that way. So I changed the subject. And if there was one topic of conversation that could distract Sydney, it was . . . Sydney.

  “Sydney, why are you on my bus?” I asked her.

  Sydney’s face lit up.

  “I slept over at my aunt and uncle’s house,” she said. “For a seriously exciting reason. A seriously exciting secret reason.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “But if you want to know”—Sydney leaned over—“I’ll give you a clue.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I don’t need to know.”

  I shrugged and went back to fake-searching my tote bag. I’d gotten much better at learning how to handle Sydney. If there was something Sydney hated, it was being ignored. I leaned back in my seat so she would know that I really didn’t want to know about her excitingly secret secrets. (Although I was curious.) (But so not worth it.)

  “Payton?” Sydney gave me her squinty look. “Payton?”

  Ignoring you, Sydney. Doo dee doo.

  “Payton? Why is your twin sister waving her arms around freakishly?” Sydney was no longer looking at me, but toward the front of the bus.

  Sydney knew just how to get me to un-ignore her.

  I leaned forward and looked up the aisle. Sure enough, I could see the top of my sister’s head and her hands waving wildly around above the seat. Oh no, what was she doing? I thought about ignoring her but I noticed people were also leaning forward to look at her. I pulled out my cell phone and texted.

  E! Chill. Hands down.

  No response. I could still see Emma’s hands waving around in the air for some unknown reason. Sigh. She didn’t realize it, I was sure, but she was embarrassing herself. And not just herself—us. Here was one of the major problems with being an identical twin: People didn’t always know who was who. That meant people could be thinking that it was me in the front seat. Me, Payton, waving my hands wildly around and making a scene.

  She must be stopped.

  I fastened up my tote bag and left it on the seat so nobody would try to snag my back seat. I couldn’t let Sydney rule my bus entirely. I did my best to ignore her as I slid out and walked up the aisle.

  There went Emma’s hands, waving. I could hear people cracking up as I walked up the aisle. I picked up my pace to stop her as soon as possible. However, I’d forgotten I was still wearing sunglasses, which meant I couldn’t see very well. For example, I didn’t see somebody’s violin case sticking slightly
out into the aisle until I tripped over it. I stumbled forward just as the bus lurched into a left turn.

  Ack! I grabbed on to the closest seat back and accidentally yanked somebody’s ponytail.

  “Ouch!” The ponytail owner yelped. Loudly. Unfortunately, that meant pretty much everybody on the bus looked away from Emma’s hands and saw me trip and stumble my way up the aisle, out of control. And anybody who hadn’t looked yet definitely did when the bus driver yelled at me.

  “You! In the sunglasses! Sit down while the bus is moving!”

  I felt my face turn bright red. I quickly sat down on the edge of an empty seat and waited until the bus became more stable. Then I ducked down and half-crawled up the aisle toward my sister, trying to stay under the bus driver’s radar.

  I slid into the seat next to Emma, which was open because the only other person I knew who liked to sit in the front seat for everything was Jazmine James. And her mother drove her to school every day.

  “Why hello, Payton,” Emma said calmly, her hands now in her lap like a normal person’s. “What are you doing up here in the front of the bus?”

  “I’m here to ask you to stop waving your hands wildly,” I whispered. “The whole bus can see you and it’s embarrassing.”

  “More or less embarrassing than stumbling up the aisle, yanking somebody’s hair, and getting yelled at by Morris, the bus driver?” Emma peered at me. “While wearing oversize sunglasses on a bleak day?”

  Agh! I slumped back on the seat in defeat.

  “I was hoping you didn’t notice my approach,” I said.

  “Of course I saw it. I see everything on this bus,” Emma said. She pointed to a large mirror that was attached to the back of the bus driver’s seat. “I convinced Morris to angle an additional mirror so that I can monitor the goings-on of my fellow bus mates. This way I can alert him to any shenanigans.”

  “Are you serious?” I asked her.

  “Oh, she’s very serious,” the bus driver chimed in.

  “Oh, Morris, does this mean I can speak now?” Emma called up to the driver.

  “No,” Morris replied.