Trading Faces (19 page)

She got up to go to the computer.

“Calm down, Emma,” I said. “Breathe.”

Emma shrieked instead. “My e-mail is down! Oh, no!”

“I'm sorry!” I said. “I got caught up being . . .”

Being Emma, I guess.

People had called me smart two times that day. I couldn't remember the last time anyone had told me I was smart. I'd . . . kind of liked it. Plus, I couldn't have let that Jazmine James win a spot if Emma didn't. Wow, was I getting competitive like Emma? Wait! What was Emma doing when I was being her?

“So then where were
you
all this time?” I asked Emma.

“At the mall with Sydney and company,” Emma said, sitting down on her bed and taking a deep breath.

“What?! WHAT?” I screamed. “How did
that
happen?”

“Well, I told you I'd fix things for you,” Emma said, modestly. “All in a day's work.”

“Wait.” I got worried. “Are you sure they didn't ask you to make fun of you or anything?”

“Does
this
sound like they're making fun of me?” Emma handed me her cell phone—my cell phone—and showed me two text messages:

Luuuuuv my new clothes cu at lunch! Q

“
Q
stands for Quinn,” Emma informed me.

I'd figured that out. I was busy scrolling through to read the next text message.

Tooo much fun. Mall again this weekend? xoxox Syd

“AHHHH!” I screamed. “You not only made up with Sydney, but she's inviting you to the mall
and
saying you were fun?! YOU?”

“It's true,” Emma said. “I was fun. And, dare I say . . . cool.”

“Whoa,” I said. “Unreal.”

I watched Emma as she took some lip gloss out of my tote bag and expertly put some on her lips.

“Ahem. And now you're putting on lip gloss,” I pointed out.

“Oh,” Emma said. “Habit, I guess. Plus, this peach mango flavor is kind of tasty.”

“Um, that's my lip gloss from my tote bag,” I pointed out. “May I have it back?”

“Fine,” Emma sighed, handing it over. “I bought my own cherry cola flavor at the mall anyway. So, in sum, this was a successful experiment. You are so in with Sydney. You can go back to being you without any more burrito embarrassment.”

“And you have experienced being popular and having friends,” I said. “So, now we can go back to being ourselves.”

I flopped back on my bed and looked at the ceiling. Emma was lying on her bed too.

“Emma?” I said. “I know this is a dumb question but . . . you
do
want to switch back, right?”

Emma didn't answer. She just chewed on her hair.

And then my cell phone rang. I rolled over on my bed and looked at the caller ID. I didn't recognize the number.

“Hello?” I said.

“Payton?” a guy's deep voice said. “Hey, it's Ox.”

Ox? The burrito guy?

I muted the phone.

“It's the guy I spilled the burrito on!” I said to Emma.

“Ox?” she said. And then her eyes got all huge. “Ox is calling you? I mean me?”

“He's calling you?” I was confused. “Why? For homework help? But he's not in any of your classes . . .”

I handed her the phone.

“What do I say?” she asked me, frantically. And then I saw her turning purple.

“Put him on speaker!” I said.

“Sorry, Ox,” Emma stammered. “I'm here.”

Ox's voice boomed loudly over the speaker-phone.

“Hey, Payton,” Ox said. “Tomorrow's the pep rally. The football players have to sit near the front, 'cause, you know. Everyone cheers us on or whatever.”

Emma looked at me. I shrugged back at her.

“Well,” Ox continued, “if you want, I can save a seat for you.”

“But I'm not a football player,” Emma said back.

“I figured that out,” said Ox. “But friends sit with us, and I . . . dunno. I just thought I could save you a seat or something.”

Emma's eyes got wide. And that's when I realized it.

EMMA HAD A CRUSH!

And even more major:

EMMA HAD A CRUSH WHO CALLED HER!

AND WHO ASKED HER TO SIT WITH HIM AT THE PEP RALLY!

!!!!

Emma muted the phone again.

“Did he just ask me to sit next to him at the pep rally?” Emma asked me.

“Yes!” I said. “Well, he asked me. But really, he wants to sit by you! Pretending to be me!”

“I get it, I get it!” Emma cut me off. “So what do I say?”

I looked at her, sitting there, all nervous.

“You say
yes
.”

Emma unmuted the phone and said, “Yes.”

“Cool. See you tomorrow at lunch,” Ox said, and hung up.

“EMMA MILLS!” I screamed. “A BOY JUST CALLED YOU! And asked to sit next to you! In public!!!”

I saw her blush. I'd never seen her like this before!

“You liiiike him,” I sang. “Emma and Ox! Sitting in a tree! This is so major! I never would have thought you would like a big football jock guy!”

“Oh, be quiet,” Emma said, but she was grinning. “He's actually more than just a football guy. Did you know he wants to work protecting animal habitats? This is phenomenal! No, wait . . . this is disastrous!”

Emma wasn't smiling any more.

“Disastrous?” I said. “How is it disastrous? You have a sort-of date at the pep rally!”

“No,” Emma said. “
You
have a sort of date. Think about it. Tomorrow, I'm back to being me.”

Oh.

That.

“Oh,” I said. “You're right.”

Emma lay down on her bed again and chewed her hair.

“Payton,” she said. “I kind of . . . well, it's just that . . . he's cute and interesting. I mean, I know that after he hangs out with me a little more he won't like me, but . . . I wish I could just go to the pep rally and sit near Ox!”

She really was crushing on this guy!

“Of
course
you have to go with him tomorrow. Whatever it takes, we will make it happen. Whatever it takes.”

“Well, we could switch for the pep rally,” Emma said.

Which would be perfect! Because while Emma was being me at the pep rally, I could go be her at VOGS!

That
was
perfect! Because I'd had fun being the VOGS news anchor. But it was only for honors students, so I'd never get a chance to do it as myself.

I opened my mouth to tell Emma that.

“Pleeeease let me be you again,” Emma begged. “Just to see Ox. I owe you big time.”

I was about to tell her she didn't owe me anything, but I kept quiet. I'd never seen Emma so desperate.

“Okay, here's an offer you can't refuse,” she said. Emma went over to the side of the room and picked up some shopping bags.

“If you let me be you, all these will be yours!”

Emma reached in and pulled out some way cute
clothes that had tags on them. She spread them out on my bed.

“Whoa! These are sweeet!” I said. Sydney must have really given her some good fashion advice. They were so un-Emma. They were so
me
. Maybe Sydney or Quinn had helped her pick them out.

“I can have them?” I asked.

“If you let me wear them first to the pep rally with Ox,” Emma said.

“Emma,” I said. “Toss in this pair of sweats for me to study in tonight, and you have a deal.”

“Deal,” Emma said, solemnly. “I promise to be the best Payton I can be for one more day.”

“And I promise to be Emmarrific for one more day,” I said.

Emma stuck out her pinky and so did I. We linked them.

“TWIN-ky swear!!!”

TUESDAY MORNING

I made a chart, copied it, and gave one copy to Payton.

“Remember, do not lose this paper,” I told Payton, as we stood at our lockers.

“Duh.” Payton rolled her eyes. “I've got the paper. Don't start stressing. You've got everything planned perfectly.”

True.

The homeroom warning bell rang. I walked to my own homeroom. I was starting the day as myself.

“Bye, PAYTON!” I said.

“Bye, EMMA!” My sister waved and went off to homeroom. Boy, those clothes looked cute on her. I'd picked out:

a blue sweater

a blue and white cami

a gray cami under that

a cute skirt

Her outfit was extra important, because I'd be the one wearing it when I saw Ox. We'd decided not to switch places all day. Just at a few key times. I'd made up the schedule.