Trading Faces (22 page)

Jazmine rolled her eyes.

“Fine,” she said. Then she spoke in a monotone, reading right off the prepared PowerPoint. “Show your school spirit by cheering on our football team tonight. Captain Ox Garrett says the players are out to finally beat our rivals, the Raiders. Rah. Go, team. And all that.”

Jazmine rolled her eyes.

“You're up next!” Nick whispered to me. He pointed to an empty seat next to Jazmine.

I took a deep breath and joined Jazmine at the desk.

“And for our next report, here's Emma Mills.”

The camera turned to me. I could see my face in the
monitor. I stared back at myself, in Emma's ponytail and her clothes. It was weird to see the name
EMMA MILLS
on the screen underneath my face. I wanted to make her proud.

Here goes.

“Thanks, Jazmine,” I said, my voice shaking a little. I had written my report myself. Emma was going to edit it, but she'd ended up doing her math homework until bedtime. So it was all me. I hoped it was okay.

“Hi, I'm Emma Mills,” I said. “With a special report.”

I had practiced my report so much, I had it practically memorized. It felt like it just flowed out of my mouth. I forgot that people were watching me. I forgot everything, except for the words I wanted to share with my audience.

It felt like I'd barely started when suddenly I was saying, “And now back to you, Jazmine.”

I waited a second until I saw the camera had moved away.

Whew! I hadn't screwed up! I did it!

I saw Nick give me a thumbs-up. I grinned.

“Emma, that was simply marvelous! Glorious! Stupendous!” Mrs. Burkle said. “You make our honors program proud.”

I made the honors program proud? Me? Payton Mills, who could barely make the low achievers proud?

“Really?” I asked.

“You have a nice way of connecting with the audience,” she said.

“How about me?” Jazmine James came up to Mrs. Burkle.

“A little constructive criticism,” Mrs. Burkle said to her. “If you could show a little more enthusiasm for the pep rally, that would be appropriate.”

Jazmine frowned.

I, however, had no criticism, constructive or otherwise! I did great work! I made the honors program proud!

Yeeeeesssss!

NINTH PERIOD, PEP RALLY

“Honors passes are only for honors students,” the librarian told me.

“But I
am
 . . .” Oh, wait.
I'm not Emma. I'm Payton, who is NOT in Honors and canNOT get a pass to go to the library
.

“You need to go to the assembly, or I will have to report you.” The librarian looked at me. It was a different librarian this time. More no-nonsense. This was so unfair. What? Just because I wasn't in honors, I wasn't allowed to go to the library? Wasn't reading one of the basics of education?

“Go,” the librarian ordered, getting back to arranging a stack of books.

Guess not. Guess pep rallies took priority over literature.

I looked down to check the time. Oh, that's right, I wasn't wearing a watch. I was wearing my twin cuff. The one that was supposed to say
E
for “Emma” this period. But instead it said
P
.

I slunk through the halls toward the gym. I walked in.

Holey kamoley. The place was a zoo. People everywhere. I stayed against the back wall, trying to scope out a hiding place. I recognized Payton's PE teacher waving a giant green foam finger around. She pointed at our side of the gym. And then everyone screamed.

“GECK!” my half of the gym screamed.

“O!” the other half shouted back.

“GECK! O!”

Gack.

I watched as the gecko-costumed mascot danced around. Well, at least everyone's attention was focused on the gecko, and not on the geek looking around for a seat. That would be me—or at least it would be as soon as this period was over and I morphed back into my usual geeky Emma self.

Sigh.

“YOU!” Payton's PE teacher suddenly appeared
and yelled in my face. “Mills! Where's your spirit?”

The PE teacher shoved a giant green foam finger at me. I took it, not sure what I was supposed to do with it.

Tweeeet!
The PE teacher blew her whistle at me. Okay, so much for inconspicuous. With all this yelling and whistling, half the crowd turned to look.

“GECK!” he yelled.

“O,” I said. I waved the foam finger weakly.

“There's the spirit, Mills!” the PE teacher yelled. I pointed at the crowd. “Geck!” they shrieked. I spotted Margaret from the spelling bee standing up on her seat cheering. Boy, she was short. And Ahmad was raising his cast. I pointed at him. “O!” he and all the others yelled.

Oh, this was fun. Someone, get me out of this misery. Fortunately, Quinn and Cashmere spotted me.

“Payton!” Quinn yelled. “We saved you a seat!”

She pointed to a spot next to her on the bleachers.

I bolted in their direction to get away from Coach Hoen. I walked very carefully up the bleachers in my (Payton's? Ashlynn's?) platform shoes.

I slid into the seat next to Quinn.

“Where's Sydney?” I asked her.

She pointed to the front of the gym. And that's when I saw them.

Front row center. Sydney and Ox, sitting next to each other. Sydney was doing a hair-flippy thing and giggling. Ox was looking . . . hot.

Sigh. Well, that's the way it goes in Popular World. What Queen Bee wants, Queen Bee gets. Just like Jazmine James, Queen Bee of the Academic World.

And that's when the giant green gecko mascot headed up the bleachers. And toward me. I moved to the side to let it through, but it stopped at me. And pointed at me.

“You've got the green gecko finger, Payton!” Quinn squealed. “Lead the cheer!”

Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

I give up. I absolutely, totally give up.

I stood up on the bleacher. I held up the stupid giant foam finger and pointed at the other side of the gym.

“GECK!” they screamed.

Then I pointed at our side.

“O!”

“GECK!”

“Hey, Payton!” I looked up. That wasn't part of the cheer. It was Ox, yelling over the crowd and pointing at me and waving at me to come over to him.

I would just pretend not to see him. I led the crowd in another round of the cheer.

“GECK!”

Oh! Ox was making his way across the gym, toward the bleachers, and—

“Hey, Payton!” he yelled. “Come on!”

“Why is Ox calling
you
?” Cashmere said.

“Go talk to him,” Quinn said. “I'll take over the gecko finger.”

Ox was looking at me. And looking cute. Well. I had no choice.

I handed Quinn the foam finger, and she started waving it. I walked carefully down the bleachers, step by step. I glanced up to see Quinn dancing around with the foam finger as everyone around me GECKed and Oed.

“I was looking for you!” Ox said. “I got you a seat!”

I followed him down to the first row, front and center. I tried to avoid catching Sydney's eye as she glared at me. Um. There was no open seat. They were full of football players and cheerleader types.

“Sydney,” Ox said. “I found Payton! Okay, she needs her seat.”

I froze. Sydney froze.

“Her seat?” Sydney asked.

“Yeah, I told her I was saving a seat for her,” Ox said. “So, now that I told you about the math homework, do
you have any other questions for me?”

Sydney's eyes narrowed.

How awesome would it be, sitting next to Ox front row center at the pep rally? Cheering him on!

But hello. Reality check. I had to save Payton's friendship with Sydney.

Just then my cell phone rang.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star
 . . .

Sydney snorted.

“That's your new ringtone, Payton? Isn't that a little juvenile? Like,
babyish
?”

“It's Mozart,” I told her distractedly, checking the screen. “Mozart composed this tune, which is genius in its simplicity.”

Okay. It was a text from Payton, saying:

thx again for everything

“Cool factoid,” Ox said, nodding at me.

“Whatever, Payton,” Sydney said. Her face said,
Leave already
.

“It's okay,” I said. “Sydney can have the seat.” And Payton could stay on Sydney's good side.

Sydney smiled. But then—

“Dude,” some guy behind us said. “Tell your girlfriend to sit down and stop blocking us. We can't see the cheerleaders.”

The cheerleaders were flipping and kicking out on the gym floor. Sydney looked out at their performance and frowned. Then she turned back to me and said, “Buh-bye, Payton.”

But I didn't move. Because Ox was holding the strap of my tote bag.

“Hey, Syd, look.” Ox pointed. “There's an empty seat in the back next to Cashmere. I'll see you later.”

Sydney glared at me.

“You—you—,” she sputtered, and then
BAM!
A stray pompom flew toward us and whapped Sydney smack in the face.

“Eck! Blecch!” Sydney gagged, pulling green and white strips from her mouth.

“Hey, Cindy!” one of the cheerleaders called. “Can I have that back?”

“Augh!” Sydney yelled, and threw the pompom down. Then she stomped off.

Ox let go of my bag. “C'mon,” he said to me. “Sit.”

I sat. On a pompom. I handed it to Ox, who threw it right to the cheerleader who'd lost it.
Good aim,
I
thought, watching the pompom.
Nice muscles,
I thought, peeking at Ox's throwing arm.

I didn't bother turning around to see Sydney's walk of shame back up the bleachers.

Sorry, Payton. I did my best to salvage your relationship with Sydney. It's her loss
.

I looked at Ox.
And my gain
. I was sitting so close to him that if I moved a teensy bit over, we'd be touching. I felt all tingly just thinking about it. I pretended to listen to the football coach talking about the season. But I was really thinking about . . .

Ox.

“Good cheerleading,” Ox whispered to me.

“What?”

“You, leading the Gecko Finger Cheer,” he said. “Thanks for showing our team school spirit. I was psyched that I found you.”

“Er, thanks,” I said.
Well
. I'd never been called a good cheerleader before.

My brain felt all swirly. I sneaked a look at Ox, who was now focused on the football coach. I had him for just one day. I felt like Cinderella. When the dismissal bell rang, I'd have to turn back into . . . myself. Emma.

The coach stopped talking and the lights turned off.
And suddenly there was something on the big movie screen.

“Good afternoon, Geckos!” A huge Jazmine James face appeared. She was sitting at a news desk. “Welcome to the first broadcast of VOGS, for students and by students. I'm Jazmine James, this week's host.”

Bleh. A huge, giant Jazmine James. I sneaked another look at Ox. I'd rather look at him. And his huge, giant muscles you could see rippling through his shirt sleeves, and—

“Hey, there's your sister!” Ox nudged me. It was! Payton was up on the screen! Woo-hoo! Go, Payton! I mean, go, Payton-Emma! Go, me!

“Hi! I'm Emma Mills!” she said with a smile. “With your special Gecko pep rally report.”

Yay! There she was. Reporting live on camera. And she was doing well. Really well. She was talking about the game tonight.

“Are you guys ready for the big game tonight?” she said. And then she stood up and cheered. “GECK!”

And the whole audience screamed back, “O! GECK! O!”

“Tell her she should try out for basketball cheerleading,” Ox said.

I was so proud of her. I listened to her talk about the game tonight.

“Hey, isn't that your wrist thingy she's wearing?” Ox asked me.

What?

I looked up at the screen. Oh, no. She was wearing her
P
cuff. I looked down. I was wearing my
E
. We'd forgotten to trade in that last switch.

“Heh,” Ox said. “I know people mix you up, but it's like even you don't know who's who.”

Ha ha ha
. I smiled weakly. Yikes. Well, it was only one little mistake. (Blown up to about one hundred times its normal size on a giant screen.) I looked around, hoping nobody would notice.

And then some boy came on to talk about bus safety. Whew. Payton was done! Over! She'd done great! But I was relieved it was over. There was no longer anything to worry about.

Jazmine's face came back on the screen.

“And now for our student spotlight,” Jazmine said. “Every week we'll surprise a student by putting them in the spotlight. This week, our surprise student spotlight is . . . Emma Mills!”