Trading Faces (20 page)

“This looks like math,” Payton had complained when I first gave her the schedule.

“Well, it is similar to algebra, where variables represent —,” I mused.

“Emma!” she'd said.

Okay, okay. We'd start the day as ourselves. And be ourselves all the way through fourth period.

“And then we'll meet at the janitor's closet, the JC, to trade places. So fifth period I get to be Payton. And have lunch at the same time as . . . well, you know.”

I felt my face turn purple.

“With your boyfriend,” Payton sang. “Your BF, your true love . . .”

“Ahem. Continuing on,” I said. “It's back to ourselves for sixth period. You'll go to your own English with Mrs. Burkle. Then the big switch is for seventh and eighth periods and last-period assembly.”

“Yeah, because I've got VOGS rehearsal seventh period,” Payton said. “So I've got to be you.”

“And we'll stay switched until dismissal, when we'll quickly flip back and go home,” I finished.

It really wasn't that complicated. And it was just for one last day. Then everything would be back to normal. I'd be regular Emma. For the rest of my life . . . well, I
wouldn't think about that now. One period at a time.

Starting with homeroom. Which was kind of weird, because people I didn't know said, “Hi, Emma.”

“Er, hello,” I mumbled as I lugged my backpack to my seat. Sheesh, was it always this heavy? I opened my vocabulary study book.

Loquacious: talkative

“Hey, Emma,” a boy said.

“Oh, hey,” I said. It was the boy who sat behind me. I looked back at my vocabulary word, but something really strange happened. The boy kept talking, something about VOGS and reporting techniques and . . .

“Uh huh, yeah.” I kept nodding like I knew what he was talking about.

“You were great yesterday,” he said.

I was? I mean, Payton was?

“So were you,” I said.

“Uh, great at what?” he asked me.

Oh. Uh . . .

“Just great in general!” I managed.

He gave me a weird look, but fortunately, the teacher started taking attendance.

I bolted before he could say anything else. It was a relief when I could get to Science. Where everything would be normal.

Dr. Perkins told the class to pair up for an experiment on density.

“Jazmine,” she said, “please help Ahmad today.” Ahmad was wearing an arm cast and sling. He moved beside Jazmine. Everyone was moving toward their friends. I sat. And waited. Hoping there'd be someone who needed a partner.

But no. There was an odd number of students today. I was left the odd one out.

“Emma, psst,” I heard someone say.

Huh?
Tess and Hector were waving me over to where they were setting up their little metal masses.

“Okay,” I said, joining them.
They must either feel sorry for me or want to use my science brain
. I was used to both.

“Emma, Hector and I were talking about what you said in math yesterday,” Tess said. “You were so right. It's why I don't join after-school clubs unless Jazmine and Hecky are there to protect me.”

“Yeah, I felt like that the time I went to band camp and was the only one who brought my instrument to the
Saturday night dance,” Hector said. “What a faux pas! I couldn't even hide it, because it was my harp!”

Tess burst into giggles. I was completely lost. What the heck was going on here? Why were these virtual strangers—friends of Jazmine James—confessing their embarrassing moments to me?

I started moving the little metal weights onto the measuring scale.

“Density,” I said, changing the subject to classwork, where at least I would have a clue. “How thick an object is. How much mass it displaces.”

“She's right,” Hector said. “Time to focus.”

“It's funny, Emma,” Tess said. “Sometimes it seems like you're two different people.”

“It does,” Jazmine said, coming over from the table next to us. She looked at me thoughtfully. “It does seem like you're two different people sometimes.”

“Er,” I said.
Change of subject! Change of subject!

“Density!” I said, picking up the mass. “Ten grams. So, how many fluid ounces will it displace?”

Luckily, just then Ahmad knocked over their scale with his cast. Jazmine hurried back to her partner.

We went to work on the science experiment. On the outside I was focused. But inside? I was counting down
the minutes to fifth period. When I would see Ox. In Payton's lunch period.

But first I had three more classes to get through. I had thought it would be a relief to be my comfy Emma self, but nothing was making any sense.

“Do you really think they'll improve the lunches?” a girl with braids and a baggy sweater asked me in Social Studies. “I liked what you said at VOGS about better nutrition and better taste making better students.”

Um, thanks?

Then, a little later . . .

“Awesome speech in Math yesterday!” some boy said, giving me a thumbs-up in the hall.

What the heck did Payton do in Math?

The most bizarre moments came during lunch. I was sitting with Tess, Hector, and Jazmine. I'd pulled out my language arts novel and pretended to be riveted by it, so no one would interrupt. (And ask me about music lessons.)

First, Hector couldn't get his chip bag open.

“It's okay to ask for help,” Tess told him. “Right, Emma?”

I looked up, and she winked at me. Wha—?

“Jazmine, would you please, please help me?” Hector said, dramatically. “I need your help, Jazmine. But then,
we all need a little help sometimes—right, Emma?”

“Right?” I agreed. What the heck?

Jazmine James did not look amused. She took one long slurp of her smoothie. Then she glared at me.

“Never mind; I got it open.” Hector dug into his chip bag, and I went back to my book.

Jazmine took another long, loud slurp of smoothie.

“Ladies do not make noises while eating,” boomed a loud voice.

I looked up from my book. And looked even farther up. A very tall woman with short dark hair stood over our table. Whoa. Her face was the grown-up version of Jazmine's face. And this woman's face was not smiling.

“Hi, Mama,” Jazmine said.

“Is that the way you show respect? Stand up and greet me properly,” Jazmine's mother said.

Jazmine rolled her eyes and stood up. People at other tables had quieted down and were watching.

“I'm here to see that your middle school is running smoothly,” Jazmine's mother said. “I've already met with a few of your teachers and reminded them of our family's high standards and expectations of excellence.”

“Hello, Mrs. James!” Hector jumped up.

“Nice to see you, Mrs. James.” Tess stood up too.

“Hector, Tess, darlings!” Mrs. James nodded. “And who is this?”

Jazmine's mother looked at me. Yikes. Her eyes were like laser beams.

“Mama, this is Emma Mills,” Jazmine didn't seem too enthused to introduce me. Mrs. James looked even less pleased.

“And what brings you to my Jazmine's lunch table?” Mrs. James asked me.

Uh . . . desperation?

“Emma won the state spelling bee last year,” Tess offered.

“Ah, yes, I believe I've met your father,” Mrs. James said. “Talkative man. And I'm sure you'll be a gracious runner-up when my Jazmine wins this year.”

With that, she spun around and started to walk away.

“Good-bye, children,” she said over her shoulder. “I have an appointment with the principal. Study hard! Strive for perfection!”

And she was gone.

Our table was quiet. Whoa. Now I knew where Jazmine got her personality. I almost felt sorry for her,
having a mother like that. At least my own parents never pushed me or pressured me. Or hunted me down in the cafeteria.

Hector looked around at the people still looking at us.

“The show is over, people,” Hector announced loudly. “There's nothing to see here.”

“I need to stop at the library before next class,” Jazmine said, gathering her things. “Bye, Hector. Bye, Tess.”

Jazmine spun around, just like her mother had, and left.

Oookay.
I'd been dissed. I didn't feel sorry for that girl anymore. Can you spell n-a-s-t-y?

“Emma, I—” Tess started to say something.

Clang! Clang!
The bell drowned out the rest of Tess's sentence. Whatever. Any friend of Jazmine's is no friend of mine.

I wouldn't think about Tess, Hector, or Jazmine right now. There was no time to waste. I had more important things to do. I was off to meet Payton.

BETWEEN FOURTH AND FIFTH PERIODS

Knock. Knock-tap-tap. Knock!

I knocked our secret code on the janitor's closet.

“Payton?” Emma opened the door a crack.

“Payton about to be Emma!” I whispered back cheerfully. “Open up!”

The door opened and a hand pulled me inside. I turned my locker mirror light on, shining it on Emma's face. Oops.

Emma stood there looking at me accusingly.

“What the heck did you do?” she asked me.

“Um,” I said. “I'm not sure?”

“Why are people talking to me in my classes?” Emma demanded.

“Oh, that!” I said. “Well, I said hi to people.”

“What else did you say?” Emma said. “I thought you were supposed to have otolaryngitis and not speak?”

“Well, excuse me,” I said. “I thought I'd perk up your social life. Make you a little approachable.”

“A
little
approachable?” Emma said. “Tess and Hector were telling me every awkward moment they've ever had! Like we're all close friends, sharing deep secrets. And I'm practically being mauled by people high-fiving me over some non-answer you apparently gave in math class . . . ?”

Oh. That. Um, yeah
.

Clang!

The warning bell for class!

“No time to talk!” I said. “We have to switch!”

And the first switch of the day was on! Clothes were tossed back and forth!

Lip gloss put on; lip gloss wiped off! Hair up; hair down! Bags handed over!

And . . .

Ta-da!

And . . .

Clang!

“I need answers later,” Emma said. “This morning was very confusing to me. And you know I don't like being confused.”

“Gotta run!” I said, before she had time to grill me any more. “Good luck, Payton-Emma!”

I opened the door and walked very casually out. Two seconds later Emma followed.

I went left down the hall. She went right.

LUNCH

I went right to the lunchroom. I was nervous. And excited. I was about to see Ox! And spend one more day sitting at the popular table.

Did I just think that?
Incredibly shallow of me, I know. But maybe I could soak up some more compliments about my incredible fashion skills and do a little girly bonding with my peeps.

Is “peeps” a kewl word? Maybe not
. Anyway, I walked into the lunchroom. Smiley. Cheery. And Paytony.

I slid into my seat next to Sydney, Cashmere, and Quinn.

“Hey, guys,” I said. I noticed that Sydney was wearing
the necklace I'd picked out for her at the mall.

“Hi, Payton,” Quinn said. “The shirt looks so cute on you!”

“Thanks!” I said. “And that necklace I picked out looks so cute on you! And Sydney, I love your shirt.”

“Don't the earrings I picked out for Sydney look so cute too?” Cashmere asked.

“Sure,” I said. “Although I found this pair in a magazine I have got to show you, Syd.”

“Ooh, I can't wait,” Sydney said. “Let's go shopping again. How about after school Thursday?”

“I've got jazz and tap on Thursday,” Cashmere whined.