Triple Trouble (10 page)

“And here's the rest of the Multipalooza team!” she announced.

And in walked the triplets. Dexter. Oliver. And Asher. They were dressed in matching gray shirts, black jeans, and gray sneakers.

“Why are they here?” Payton whispered to me.

“My five correspondents for Multipalooza! Behind the scenes, part of the scenes,” Mrs. Burkle said. “Identicals make great television!”

Payton slumped.

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.

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.”