Triple Trouble (19 page)

“That's a hard question to answer,” Emma said. “I've never NOT been an identical, so I have nothing to compare it to.”

“I thought you would answer it's the best thing in the world because you had
me
for a twin.” I pretended to be disappointed.

“Sure, we'll go with that,” Emma said with a grin.

“Let's ask our fellow Geckos: Asher, Dexter, and Oliver,” I said. The camera panned over to the triplets. “What's it like being an identical?”

“Awesome,” two of them answered. “You get a lot of attention.”

“Although sometimes, you want to be an individual, so then it can be a pain,” one said. Yep, that definitely would be Asher.

“Let's see what everyone else thinks!” On-Screen Emma said.

We went to interview people in the crowd.

“One of the coolest things about being a twin is that there's always someone who gets what you're talking about,” a twin said.

“You have people that get you,” said a certain zombie princess, with her zombie brother and sister.

“I love freaking people out when they don't know we're triplets,” the triplet girls with the black curly hair said.

“You always have a best friend,” another twin said.

The camera went back to me and Emma, standing together.

“That's all from our special on-the-scene VOGS cast,” I said. “I'm Payton and this is—”

“I'm Emma,” Emma said, interrupting me.

“You're supposed to just say Emma,” I hissed at her.

“I didn't know,” Emma said. “What do you think, I can read your mind or something? Twin telepathy?”

 . . . and the screen went dark and everyone clapped. Emma and I most of all.

AFTER SCHOOL

“What are Mom and Dad doing standing on our front porch?” I asked Payton. We'd just gotten off the bus and walked home from the bus stop.

“I have no idea,” Payton said. She waved to them. They waved back.

“They're smiling,” I observed. “So it's not bad news.”

“Happy half birthday!” our parents called out.

I stopped. And did a quick calculation in my head. “We're twelve and a half today!” I said. With everything going on, we'd forgotten the Mills family tradition of celebrating the halfway point between birthdays.

Payton stopped too. “Only six months away from
being teenagers!” she exclaimed. We looked at each other.

Wow. Teenage twins . . . Twin teens . . .

“Emma! Payton!” Mom shouted. “Hurry!”

We hurried. All the way to our house and into our parents' arms. Because they grabbed us for hugs.

“Moom,” Payton said. “You're smothering me. In public.”

“I gave my father a squeeze and extricated myself from his grasp. I opened the front door and went inside, Payton right behind me. For a moment there was only the sound of our backpacks falling to the floor. Then . . .

“SQUEEEEEEEEE!!!”

My sister squealed the world's longest squee. I just stood there with my mouth open.

On the floor were two baskets. One had a pink bow, and the other had a blue bow. Peeking out from each basket—fluffy white fur and a pair of blue eyes.

Two baskets. Two . . .

“Kittens!” Payton and I shrieked.

“They're twins,” Mom said. “Actually, twin girls.”

“Twin kitties!” Payton sighed.

“Is the one with the blue bow for me?” I asked tentatively. I mean, we'd been pestering our parents about getting a pet for
years
. It seemed too good to be true.

“Happy half birthday!” Dad said. “And the one with the pink bow is for Payton. We got those colors right, didn't we?”

“Yes! Thank you!” Payton and I responded. We raced over to the baskets and sat down on the floor. Our parents continued on toward the kitchen, both smiling.

“Mew.”
My kitten—
my kitten!
—looked up at me and blinked. I put my face close to hers.

She gazed back at me. She looked intelligent.

“I'm going to name her Twinkle!” Payton said. I looked over and saw her kitten climbing out of its basket. “Her eyes are so twinkly! Emma, what are you going to name yours?”

“Einstein,” I said.

“Einstein?” my sister said. “That's not a girl's name!”

I carefully picked up my kitten. She snuggled into my arms as I walked over to Payton.

“Okay,” I said. “Princess Einstein. Called Einstein.”

“Twinkle and Einstein.” Payton sounded a bit doubtful. But then I put my kitten down near hers, and the two put their noses together.

“They're kissing!” said Payton. Then the kittens started playing with each other, rolling around on the floor.

And I admit it. I squeed.

TWO SECONDS LATER

Emma picked up her kitten and snuzzled it by her face.

“Um, are you sure about the name Einstein?” I asked.

“She likes Einstein,” Emma said, turning to her kitten. “Don't you?”

“Mew,”
said her kitten.

“See? It's unanimous.” My twin nodded firmly.

I scooped up Twinkle, who started purring like a little motor. “Presenting Twinkle and Einstein, the kitten twins,” I said, holding Twinkle up.

“Or Einstein and Twinkle,” Emma said. “Hey, do you think they're identical?”

We looked at each other's little fluffball and then back at our own.

“Well, mine's nose is a little more pink,” said Emma. “And she's slightly larger than yours.”

“Mine has a teensy bit bigger eyes,” I observed. “And her tail is a little fluffier.”

“The differences are infinitesimal,” Emma said. “Therefore, I now pronounce you identical twin kittens!”

Just then, both kittens let out a big
“MEW!”

I looked at Emma, and we both laughed.

“Twinx!” we said, our version of “jinx.”

LATER THAT NIGHT

“Can you believe it's only been a few months since we started middle school?” Payton asked me.

“It sure has been eventful,” I agreed.

We were home in our bedroom, Payton sitting on her bed with Twinkle, me lying down on mine with Einstein. It was nighttime, but neither of us could sleep. This was one of the times that made being a twin special. Just the two of us, talking about things no one else in the world would understand.

“I was trying so hard to fit in,” Payton mused, dangling a piece of string so Twinkle could play with it. “And then . . . I oozed Ox.”

“With a flying burrito,” I remembered, laughing. Einstein was curled up against my neck, purring contentedly.

“And that,” Payton said, “was the beginning of . . .”

“Twin Switches!” we both said at the same time.

“Twinx!” Then we sat in silence for a moment, just relaxing.

“Emma,” my twin said. “Remember our first switch in the Janitor's Closet?”

“How could I forget?” I said.

“You're going to pretend to be me?”
Payton had asked.

“Yes! I can be Payton with her head held up high,”
I had told her.
“Me, ‘Payton' Mills. Well, for one afternoon anyway. That's just four periods.”

“Let's do it,”
Payton had said.

“And then we switched the next day on purpose,” I remembered. “And you met Nick and told off Jazmine James in my math class.”

“And you met Ox and showed off your new fashion skills to Sydney and Cashmere at the mall,” Payton added.

“And I met Quinn,” I said happily. “My first real friend.” I scratched Einstein behind her ears, and she closed her eyes.

“But then the next day, things got all out of control with your crazy P equals E, E equals P chart,” my twin said, while Twinkle pounced on the string and batted it around with her paws.

“You did meet Tess and get involved with VOGS,” I reminded her. “So it wasn't a total disaster.”

“You're right!” Payton smiled. “But then . . .”

“Jazmine James!” We both groaned. “Twinx!” Einstein opened one eye, then closed it again.

“Jazmine outing us on the live broadcast in front of the whole school was bad enough, but then we had to go fight with each other while the camera was still rolling,” Payton continued.

“So embarrassing.” I winced.

“Humiliating,” Payton agreed.

“But then we redeemed ourselves by doing that truthful VOGS cast, and everything turned out okay,” I said.

“Better than okay.” Payton smiled.

I yawned, finally feeling a little sleepy. My twin and her kitten still seemed wide awake.

“But things got worse again,” she said. “Our punishment for switching. Mine resulted in Sydney dumping a bucket of dirty water on my head.”

“Right,” I remembered. It led to our next Twin
Switch. “And just after that, I did
my
first community service and met . . .”

“Mason and Jason!” We both giggled. “Twinx!”

“And our friend, Mascot the Gecko.” I rolled my eyes.

“Girls!” Our mom poked her head through the door. “It's late. Go to sleep.”

“Good night,” our dad said from the hallway.

“Good night, Mom! Good night, Dad!” I picked up Einstein and got out of bed. I carefully placed my kitten in her new bed. Payton carried her kitty over and put her down in the same bed. Payton and I stood there looking at the two little fluffballs, now both asleep.

“How adorable are they?” Payton said.

“Cutest kittens ever,” I agreed. I turned off the light and climbed back in bed.

Our room was dark and quiet. Until I heard the
flump
of Payton flopping down in bed.

“Remember the Glinda bubble?” I whispered. This memory cracked Payton up.

“The
Wizard of Oz
play!” she snorted. “When I went under the stage to rescue Mascot . . .”

“And I had to go onstage in your place,” I continued her sentence. “Performing as Glinda the Good Witch in her giant plastic bubble! Thank goodness you were able
to switch back and finish the play. Which you were really good at. Hey, when we grow up, do you want to be an actor?”

“Maybe,” Payton said. “I mean, I had such an amazing time in Hollywood acting in the shampoo commercial.”

“Shiny, shiny, double the shiny,” we both said, and then said, “TWINX!”

One of the kittens made a little “meow” sound.

“Shhh,” I said.

We were quiet for a moment.

“And then we ran into Ashlynn from summer camp . . . ,” Payton whispered.

“Summer
slave
camp for you,” I whispered back. “But then Ashlynn got what she deserved, and you got to fall into Dustin Weaver's arms.”

“More like fall
on
Dustin Weaver,” Payton said. “But still, who'd have imagined I'd be that close to an actual celebrity? He was such a hottie.”