I watched as they each took a chair. I scanned them for differences. Even with my keen eye, I couldn’t find any. No extra freckles, no hair that was springier, no eyebrows that were thicker. They were seriously identical.
As much as it was weird for people to do that to me and Payton (yes, her nose is bigger), I really wanted to identify which triplet was which. As a twin, I knew how I felt when people just lumped me in with my sister as “one of the twins” and didn’t bother to figure out who was who.
Plus, for some reason I felt like they were being sneaky.
“Just so I don’t mix you guys up and offend you,” I said, “which of you is which?”
“We’re DexterOliverAsher,” one of them said, waving vaguely.
I was right. They didn’t want us to know which was which. Fine, two—or four—could play that game. I would call them all Triplet.
“Mrs. Burkle, we have some ideas for Multipalooza segments. Since our aunt is on the board, we can get all the VIP behind-the-scenes access that other people can’t.”
They looked pointedly at Payton.
I knew it. They were being sneaky. I didn’t know why, but I needed to find out.
“Why don’t you all work together and make a list of your ideas? Then you can divide them up,” Mrs. Burkle said.
I spoke quickly.
“Since this was Payton’s idea, why doesn’t she start?” I said, and smiled at Payton.
“Um,” Payton said, looking panicked.
“Nothing? Well, here’s what we need to do,” a triplet jumped in. “We’ll start the first segment, introduce our aunt, and then show everyone around.”
“Since our aunt is on the board, we know the history of the festival, who the important people are, and where to go,” a triplet said.
“I think that clinches it,” Triplet #3 said, and nodded. “Plus, there’s three of us. On-screen together, what could be better to introduce a festival for multiples? So, we’ll start with—”
“No,” I said firmly. “Payton will introduce the first segment. Payton, how do you want to start it?”
“RRfbflt,” Payton stammered. “I can skkrbltff.”
The triplets snickered in unison.
Oh no. Payton was choking under the pressure! Like I had once choked under the pressure of my first spelling bee (age three at the Precocious Pre-K Bee). I needed to help her save face.
“Brilliant,” I told her. “Just brilliant.”
The triplets, Mrs. Burkle, and Payton all swiveled their heads and looked at me, confused.
“Krrrzikni mlinokoff,” I said. “Rflbt.”
“What are you talking about?” a triplet said.
“Oh, sorry,” I smiled. “Payton and I are talking in our secret twin language. We didn’t mean to leave you out, right, Payton?”
I gave her a look. Hopefully she could understand that look meant, work with me.
“Right?” Payton said weakly.
“What Payton was suggesting was that she introduce the scene with myths about multiples, and then we can all do news stories to dispel them. Right, Payton?” I said.
Like the myth of triplet ESP, I was thinking.
“Right!” Payton said more confidently. “Pflmpt.”
“You two have a secret twin language?” Mrs. Burkle clasped her hands. “I’ve always found that so fascinating when twins have their own language. Did you speak it as babies?”
Okay, maybe we weren’t speaking a secret twin language now. But one of the common twin questions was “Do you have your own language?” And actually, Payton and I used to.
My mom has us on video talking to each other and making no sense at all—except to each other. I have to admit, we were quite adorable. Especially me. I was particularly verbal.
“We had a secret language too,” one of the triplets said, butting in. “Back when we were babies.”
“Well, there we go!” Mrs. Burkle said so loudly we all jumped. “Your twins segment will be interviewing twins about those questions we all have.”
“Yes!” Payton finally got her voice. “Emma and I made a list of our Top Ten Questions People Ask Twins once.”
“Divide the list between you, and there’s a segment for the show,” Mrs. Burkle said. “Payton can introduce it since it was her idea.”
Bzzzt. The bell rang. It was time for the school day to start.
I walked out into the hallway and waited for Payton to join me.
“Ta-da!” I said to her. “Now you’ve regained control of your VOGS cast!”
The triplets came out into the hallway.
“Skkkblfffle,” one of them said to us, and they all laughed.
“Kerblooey, Emma,” another one said. “Poopy-doopy doodles.”
“If you’re trying to embarrass us, it’s not working,” I said, hoping they wouldn’t notice Payton blushing in embarrassment. “You’re just irritated because we are going to rule the VOGS cast.”
The bell to start school went off, and I grinned as the triplets walked away.
“We did it,” I told Payton as we walked toward our lockers. “We’re a good team!”
“Bluh,” she said.
“What? We totally dominated those triplets,” I said.
“We’re supposed to be a team,” she said. “Everyone on VOGS works together. It’s not one of your competitions.”
“Well, those triplets made it one,” I said. “Did you see how they were trying to take it over from you?”
I looked at her sternly.
“This is like Ashlynn making you a fashion slave or Sydney trying to boss you around,” I said. “You need to stand up for yourself. Go, Payton! Go, Twins!”
“Go, Geckos!” someone walking by called out.
“Go, Geckos!” I responded, punching the air.
“Thanks,” Payton said. “You’re right. This is my chance to show Mrs. Burkle and everyone my mad reporting skills.”
“And if you need help,” I said, “I’ll be there.”
“Thanks for the pep talk,” Payton said. “Go, Team Mills!” She punched the air, like I usually do.
“Go, Team Mills!” I agreed. We both laughed. I was glad my pep talk worked. There were times to cooperate, and there were times to compete.
Multipalooza would be . . . both.
Fifteen
EARLY MULTIPALOOZA MORNING
Emma and I were doing something we hadn’t done since our mother made us do it when we were four.
We dressed alike. Exactly alike. On purpose.
I had never felt more identical . . . and closer to my twin. Even though we were dressed the same for the Multipalooza festival, I felt like we were bonding, having a moment of closeness. I looked at Emma. Was she feeling it too?
“This is . . .” Emma paused. “Weird. I feel like we’re clones, a science experiment gone wrong.”
Nope. Identical outfits don’t make for identical thinking.
“I thought we were kind of cute,” I said.
“Oh,” Emma said. “Sorry. That too.”
“I think you both look great,” my dad said from the front seat of the car. Our car pulled in to the school parking lot, where we were going to meet up with everyone going to Multipalooza.
I had wanted to be the best on camera we could be and had researched what real news reporters wore. No white (it glows and I didn’t want us to be ghost twins), no patterns (they can look like they’re moving), and no shiny jewelry (it can reflect light).
The websites had recommended blues, purples, or greens. I also noticed a lot of news reporters wearing blazers. So at the last minute I had begged Mom to take us shopping and forced Emma to match me. We were both wearing:
* Deep blue blazer
* Pale green tank
* Skinny black pants
* Small gold earrings
* Black flats
“We do look professional,” Emma said. “You did well. It will add credibility to our reporting, and later, when I interview subjects for
my science fair project.”
This was the busiest day of my entire life! First, our road trip to Multipalooza! Being a VOGS reporter! Assisting Emma with her science fair project! Then tonight was the Autumn Dance!
Eek! Yayyy! Eeeekkk! Could I handle so much excitement and nervousness? The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the answer might be no.
My heart was racing, my skin was clammy, and I felt dizzy.
“I’m freaking out,” I whispered to Emma. “Being on VOGS at Multipalooza and the dance tonight. I think it’s too much for me.”
“Deep breaths,” advised Emma. “In through the nose, out through the mouth.”
I breathed as Emma gave me more advice.
“I’ve been in this situation many times,” she said. “Remember when I had the regional spelling bee, went to Dad’s office picnic, and got stung by a bee all in one day?”
I nodded. She was making me feel better. First, by being nice. And second, at least I didn’t have to be doing all these things with a swollen, bee-stung nose.
“You girls have a fun time,” my dad said. “Break a leg for your video show!”
“Thanks,” we said.
We said good-bye to Dad and walked toward the group of people in the parking lot. I headed over to where Nick was standing with some of the video equipment.
“Hey,” Nick said. “You look nice.”
“Thanks!” I said. “I’m kind of nervous for the VOGS.”
“You shouldn’t be,” Nick said. “You do a great job. Plus, it’s not live, so we can always edit it. This will be a cool show.”
Suddenly loud guitar music started playing. Everyone turned to see where it was coming from.
“It’s the triplets,” Emma said, nudging me. The triplets were wearing identical gray hats, black T-shirts, checkered short-sleeved shirts, and black jeans. And making an entrance, as they strutted up toward the parking lot. One of them was strumming his guitar.
“Eeee! It’s the SuperTwins!” Girls came after them, screaming. Well, two girls anyway.
Sydney? Cashmere?
“What are they doing here?” Emma whispered to me.
I looked closer. Sydney was wearing a white T-shirt that had what looked like ironed-on letters: SUPERTWINS.
“Yay, SuperTwins!” Cashmere squealed. She held up a yellow poster board covered in glitter:
Supertwins
The next big SUPERgroup!
“Looks like the triplets have SuperFans,” Nick said.
“SuperGroupies.” Emma nodded.
“Do you think they’re just here to wave them good-bye, or do you think they’re coming with us?” I asked, hoping for the first.
Sydney and Cashmere at Multipalooza? Bleh.
“Hi, everyone!” Sydney said as they both came up to us. “Surprised to see me?”
“Well, you’re not a multiple, you’re not in VOGS, so—yes,” Emma said.
“We’re officially helping out the SuperTwins,” Sydney said. “They invited us!”
“Just like Sydney invited the triplets to the dance with her,” Cashmere added brightly. “But they said no!”
“Because they’d be at the festival,” Sydney said quickly. “That’s why.”
“Well, we’ll be at the festival and the dance, so why can’t they?” Cashmere shrugged.
Sydney’s face crumpled, and as she gripped the poster board, I felt a little sorry for her.
“Well, their mom and aunt are running the festival, so they probably need to get back late,” I offered. “Maybe they won’t have time to pick up dates and everything. Lots of people are going without dates, anyway.”
“Well, now I’m going with Reilly instead,” Sydney said, perking up. “He’s an eighth grader and a great dancer. I bet Ox is a great dancer. You should be so excited to dance with him!”
I was expecting some gratitude, but I should have known better. Sydney knew Emma couldn’t dance—and wouldn’t in public. Fortunately, Emma couldn’t be tortured on this one.
“Sure,” Emma said to her.
“I’ll dance with him if you don’t,” Sydney said.
Emma clutched my arm. I sent her twin telepathic messages:
—Don’t let Sydney get to you! We have enough to worry about.
—It’s probably not true, anyway!
—And if it is, well . . . make sure everyone knows it’s you dancing and not me!
“Aren’t you on the dance committee?” Nick stepped in smoothly. “Shouldn’t you be back there setting up or something?”
“A good leader delegates,” Sydney said. “I’ve got my committee hard at work.”
That would include Quinn and Tess, hard at work. I’d texted Tess earlier, and she told me they were already at the gym decorating and setting up for tonight.
“I knew the SuperTwins would need me,” Sydney said. “Nick, have you met them?”
“I met Asher,” he said. “He’s in my French class, but I haven’t met his brothers.”
“Hey!” Sydney suddenly yelled. “SuperTwins! Get over here!”
I wasn’t surprised when the triplets hustled over.
“Boys. This is Nick. If you haven’t met him, he’s in charge of the VOGS cast today,” she said. “He’ll film you at your most flattering, right, Nick?”
“I guess you could put it that way.” Nick grinned. “So, you psyched for your performance today?”
“Yep,” two of the triplets said in unison. The third one said it a split second later. “Yep.”
“We’re going to rock Multipalooza,” one said. “Get it all on video. It’ll be worth something.”
“Soon,” a triplet added.
“I can’t wait to see you play,” Sydney cooed. “I bet you’re amazing.”
“Oh yeah, that reminds me,” one of the triplets said, and turned to Sydney. “Some of our equipment needs to be loaded into your car. So you can go take care of that.”
“What?” Sydney asked him.
“The amps, the mike,” a triplet said. “You can load it into the car you’re traveling in.”
“I’m a groupie, not a roadie,” Sydney said. “Yeesh. I’m not lifting anything.”
“Do it yourself,” Emma said.
“We’re the talent. We can’t risk injury,” a triplet said, and held up his hands.
“Maybe that muscley dude will do it,” a triplet said, pointing to someone.
I saw Emma’s eyes light up and turned to look. Yup. Ox was walking toward us.
“He is muscley,” Emma agreed, smiling.
“Hi,” he said to everyone. Then he turned to Emma. “Hey.”
“Ox, you’re not on VOGS,” Sydney said. “Why are you here?”
“He’s here to help with equipment and things,” Emma told her.
“Oh, good, we need a roadie,” one of the triplets said.
“We need the amp and the mike brought over,” another said. “And fast.”
Ox raised an eyebrow at them.
“He’s here to help with the VOGS equipment,” Emma said. “You have Sydney and Cashmere to help you out.”
“I’ll do it!” Cashmere said brightly. “My brother always tells me that my arm muscles are stronger than my brain muscles!”
She flexed her arms.
Nobody even touched that one.
“People!” Mrs. Burkle said, heading our way. “People of our first remote VOGS ever. Huddle!” We all gathered around her. “Thank you, chaperones and drivers. There will be three vehicles in the caravan. Students, report to your assigned vehicle as follows:
“Car Number One: Dexter, Oliver, Asher, in your mother’s car.
“Car Number Two: Sydney, Cashmere, and Lakiya. You’ll be in my car.”
That was one car I was glad I was not in.
“In Car Number Three: Emma, Payton, Ox, Nick . . .”
Ooh! Ooh! Also eek and yay! It was like a double date in our car. Maybe it would be a big SUV with three rows of seats. I could sit with Nick in t
he back, Emma and Ox in front of us. Nick and I could hold hands. It would be romantic.
Emma and I smiled.
“ . . . and . . .” Mrs. Burkle kept talking. Wait, and? And who?
“Mason Case-Babbitt and Jason Case-Babbitt. You’ll all be in with Coach Babbitt and Counselor Case.”
Emma and I stopped smiling.
A silver minivan pulled up in front of us. The door rolled open to reveal Mason and Jason sitting inside.
“Get in!” Jason called out. “We’re road trippin’!”
“Woot! Our car rocks!” Mason hooted.
“And smells!” Jason said, wrinkling his nose. “Ew, what stinks?”
“I took my shoes off to get comfortable.” Mason stuck his sock in the air and wiggled his foot around.
Emma and I looked at each other and simultaneously sighed. So much for the double date.
“I call you sit in the backseat with Mason and Jason,” I whispered to Emma.
“I call we put Mason and Jason in the trunk,” Emma whispered back.
Sixteen
ON THE WAY TO MULTIPALOOZA
“I want to sit next to Emma! We can talk about math!” Jason said, leaning forward from the backseat. He slid over in his seat and patted it.
“I’ll sit next to Payton,” Mason said from the middle seat. “She won’t talk about math with me! Wait, I want to sit next to Ox, too. Ox, did you see the game last night?”
“Good, because I want to sit next to Nick,” Jason said. “Nick, can we shoot a movie in the car?”
“Don’t you boys want to sit together?” Payton asked them, trying to sound cheerful.
“We can’t,” Jason said. “We have to sit in these stupid seats with these stupid kid seat belts. Like we’re babies.”
Ah, they were sitting in booster-style seats in each row.
“Mom keeps us separated as far as possible in the car,” Mason said.
“Mason has to sit closer to Mom so she can make sure he doesn’t get in trouble,” Jason said.
“No punching, kicking, or poking,” Mason sighed.
“Well, if I sit next to one of you guys, that rule has be enforced,” Ox said. “I don’t want to get hurt.”
I smiled at Ox. One of the best things about Ox was that he looked so tough, but he was really sweet.
“I won’t! I won’t hurt you,” Mason said, banging on the seat next to him. “Sit here!”
Triple Trouble Page 7