Times Squared (22 page)

Sigh. I started to slide my phone back into my bag.

Brzzzzt. Bzzzt.

What now? I pulled up her text and read it.

But you may want to take off your sunglasses. They're kind of embarrassing.

Ag. I gave up.

ON THE WAY TO SIXTH-PERIOD STUDY HALL

My lip balm! Did I remember to bring my lip balm?

I slipped my hand into the outside pockets of my backpack. I felt my mechanical pencils (eraser side up), sticky notes (sticky side up, ew), and my extra scrunchie. A cinnamon-raisin granola bar for after school.

And, whew, my lip balm. I pulled out the vanilla-flavored stick from pocket #4. Normally, I didn't wear any cosmetics. Unless Payton forced me to wear lip gloss on “special occasions.” Which, for her, was every day at school. Or at home. My twin sister was a lip gloss expert.

I, however, was a lip-
reading
expert. Well, not exactly an expert—but I was picking it up pretty quickly. Like
on the bus earlier this morning, I could tell that people were talking about my twin's massive wipeout on the bus. Not by listening, but by reading their lips!

Although you couldn't miss their laughter.

Anyway, Payton may be a little spazzy, but she's my best friend. A few weeks ago I might have said she's my
only
friend in my peer group. But then middle school happened. Now I had friends. And I was back in my familiar environs. Yup. It was going to be a normal day.

“What's the capital of Loserland?” a familiar and unwelcome voice said behind me. “Millsville!”

I turned around.

Jazmine James!

“Get it? 'Cause your last name is Mills?” A boy's voice.

And her sidekick, Hector!

“And that's where Emma will be after the geography bee.” Jazmine cackled. “Millsville, Loserland!”

Sigh.
I turned around from my locker. Besides making friends in middle school, I'd also made a few enemies. I leaned back casually.
Don't let her get to you.

“Still hurting after I annihilated you at the mathletes competition?” I faced Jazmine and Hector. “The competition that I
won
?”

“Oh, please.” Jazmine waved dismissively. “That was so last weekend.”

Last weekend we were in New York City! Now we were back to the usual routine. Which I liked. “Predictable” was my favorite word. Besides “winner.”

Riinnnng!
The warning bell rang.

“Well, lovely talking to you, but I must go,” I said, shutting my locker door and turning to head to study hall . . .
YANK!

“OW!” I shrieked as I was slammed backward into my locker. My ponytail. I'd closed my locker on my hair. I tugged. Nothing happened. I was stuck. I was stuck in my locker.

“Heh,” said Hector. Then he and Jazmine burst into hysterical laughter and went off down the hallway. Jazmine's long braids swung freely down her back and she treated the hall as her personal catwalk, elbowing people out of her way when they got too close.

Grrr. Jazmine James. From Eviltown.

“Hi, whichever twin you are!” a girl called to me as she walked by.

“Uh—hi!” I said. I leaned back against my locker, so maybe I'd look like I was hanging out.
La la la, keeep moving, folks. Nothing to see here.

“Hi, Payton!” another girl said to me.

“Er—hi!” I said. Thanks to a public humiliation after our first twin switch, Payton and I had become rather well-known. Although most people couldn't tell us apart. But hey, that was good in this case. They could think my
twin
was plastered to her locker. Payton, not Emma.

“Hey, Emma!” my friend Quinn greeted me.

“Quinn!” I yelled. “Can you, um, come here for a second?”

Quinn stopped and frowned a little.

“Can we talk later?” she asked. “I don't want to be late for class.”

“Please?” I begged.

Quinn came over quickly.

“I'm stuck,” I admitted. “My hair is stuck in my locker.”

“Ow, does it hurt?” Quinn asked, looking concerned.

Note to self: Friends don't laugh when you're in trouble. Unlike Jazmenemies.

“Only if I move,” I said. “I tried to pull it out, but I got nowhere.”

“Okay,” Quinn said. “What's your locker combination?”

“Great idea!” I told her the numbers. And I tried to smile, in case the people walking by saw me in this stupid situation. The very last thing I wanted was for people to think “stupid” and “Emma Mills” at the same time.

“Forty-nine . . . sixteen . . . three,” Quinn repeated. I heard the wheel spinning. “How do you remember your combination? I'm terrible remembering numbers.”

“The square root of forty-nine is seven minus the square root of sixteen, which is four, equals three,” I said. “Did it work?”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot to turn it twice,” she answered. “What was it again?”

I told her. Perhaps even merely a month ago, I would have rolled my eyes. But having a nice friend like Quinn had upped my social skills from “zero” to . . . well, improving.

“Got it!” Quinn said triumphantly, and I heard a
click
.

“I'm free!” I said, shaking out my ponytail. Crisis over.

“Yay,” said Quinn. “Now I've gotta go. Can you hang out after school?”

“No.” I sighed. “I'm tutoring today.” I thought about my new outlook on friends. I wanted them. So I made sure Quinn knew I wasn't just blowing her off.

“Quinn, I want to hang out, so let's plan something
more fun than rescuing me from a—er—hairy situation. Like a Boggle tournament or the mall.”

Quinn smiled and nodded as she left.

Well, I handled that well. Considering I'd been stuck in a locker, that is. Which, yikes, made me late for study hall! I rushed to study hall. Fortunately, it was in the same hallway as my locker. And since I had to tutor Mason and Jason, the Trouble Twins, after school, I needed every spare moment to study in study hall. I was on an intense study mission for my next competition: the Geobee! The schoolwide competition was Friday night and I was going to be ready for it.
Geobee, geobee, geography is fun for me . . . especially when I win.

And with that happy thought, I walked into study hall just in time before the last bell rang. I had exactly forty-three minutes to prepare for the competition. I planned to answer every question correctly. Emma = 100 percent winner!

Also by Julia DeVillers and Jennifer Roy

TRADING FACES

TAKE TWO