Triple Trouble (2 page)

EARLIER . . . BEFORE HOMEROOM

I had just shrugged off my jacket and hung it up in my locker when my twin sister made a sound like
“Agh!”

“Agh?” I said. “What's agh?”

“Emma,” Payton said, ignoring my question. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?” I responded irritably. I looked at myself in my locker mirror. Oh. My grumpy face. “I look this way because of Jazmine James! She got my science fair project disqualified from the competition, remember?”

“Of course I remember,” my twin said. “You haven't shut up about it.”

“She accused me of unethical research!” I complained.
“Which is impossible since I hadn't
begun
the research; I was still in the proposal stage and seeing if lip reading was even a viable topic. But now it's too late to enter!”

“Emma—” Payton hissed.

“It's unacceptable” I ranted. “There's a competition going on, and I'M NOT IN IT!”

“Emma, quiet down.” Payton shut her locker door. “Now you're embarrassing me for TWO reasons. Yes, it stinks you're not in the science fair, but you WON the whole Mathletes competition down in New York City.”

“That was so last month,” I said, dismissing her. “You're only as great as your last win. And last week, Jazmine James won the school Geobee.”

“Only because we were in Hollywood,” Payton said. “Remember?”

Yeah. Okay. That was a lot of fun. But middle school was not supposed to be fun and games. I was losing my edge; couldn't Payton see the problem?

“The problem,” Payton said, “is why do you look like that? Like the old Emma, the first-day-of-middle-school Emma who wore schlumpy clothes and didn't care at all about how she looked? And also didn't care
that people might confuse her with her identical twin sister and think YOU are ME?”

I grabbed my books and closed my locker. Then I looked down at what I was wearing. OH. I'd thrown on my clothes in the dark this morning and apparently hadn't noticed that my brown oversized hoodie clashed with my black track pants. And holey orange sneakers.

Payton was kind of right. But I was in no mood to let her know.

“Payton, I have more important things to think about,” I told her.

“And your hair,” Payton continued. “I thought you took pride in being the twin with the shinier hair. Not that it's true, of course. Mine is shinier. But today your hair is totally shineless.”

“Hmmm,” I mumbled. “I guess I forgot to wash it.” I pulled a green scrunchie out of my hoodie pocket and quickly put my hair up.

“There.” I looked at my sister. “It's fixed.”

“Emma!” Payton shrieked. “We have a year's supply of Teen Sheen shampoo! We are their national spokestwins!”

“Now who's being embarrassing?” I said. “Shh! I'm
sorry your priorities are superficial and shallow, but I don't have time for this. I'm going to homeroom.”

“Not with that scrunchie you're not,” Payton said. She reached out and ripped it out of my hair. “Don't move.”

“Ow!” I rubbed my head as she scrounged around in her tote bag. She handed me a regular ponytail band, and after I threw my hair up, I stomped away without saying bye.

“Represent the Mills Twins, Emma,” Payton called after me. “Represent!”

*   *   *

I felt a little bad, stomping away without saying bye, but sometimes being a twin was irritating. Being Payton's twin was seriously irritating. Like sibling rivalry times two. Still. I had been a little too harsh. I'd catch up with her later and explain how stressed I was.

“Hi, Emma!” I looked down the hallway. There was my friend Quinn. She was standing outside my homeroom with . . . Ox.

Ox, my more-than-a-friend-but-less-than-a-boyfriend.

“Ox is helping me put up my posters,” Quinn said as I got closer. “I needed someone tall to help me.”

“Cute poster,” I told her.
And cute boy hanging up that
poster
 . . . Ox. With his brown hair and his hazel eyes, which were now looking at me.

“Done,” Ox said. “Hey, Emma. Quinn, you're a really good artist.”

“Thanks,” Quinn smiled. “I know dancing geckos are pretty weird, but my art teacher told me I had to use our school mascot.”

“No, it's great,” I said. It was true—I liked her artwork. What I DIDN'T like so much were the words on it: autumn dance! tickets on sale now!

Ulp.

“The dance is going to be so much fun,” Quinn said excitedly. Her brown ponytail bounced as if it were excited too. “I'm so happy you guys will both be there.”

Yep. We would. Me and Ox. Like a date. A couple. Where we would have to . . . dance. I started feeling dizzy. I did not dance. I had no idea how to dance. The thought of Ox and me on a dance floor made me start to hyperventilate. I was going to make a fool of myself! In front of Ox—and the whole school.

“Uh,” I said weakly. “I've got to get to homeroom.” I turned and crashed right into someone.

OOF!

“Watch where you're going!” a familiar voice hissed.

“Jazmine Jones,” I said through gritted teeth. I stepped back and faced my arch nemesis.
Groan
. Jazmine looked as stylish as ever, with her dark braids in perfect rows and her designer outfit with platform heels.

“Oh, hi, Emma,” Jazmine said in a sticky-sweet voice. “I'll see you in science class. I'm handing in my final draft for the science fair. How about you . . . oh, I forgot. You're not going to be in it.”

“Too bad, so sad,” Hector cackled. Hector was Jazmine's omnipresent sidekick.

“Oh, by the way, Emma,” Quinn said, jumping into the conversation. “I cannot wait to see your new dress for the dance!”

“You,” Jazmine said, her eyes raised, “are going to a school dance? Aren't you afraid to fall behind?”

“Or fall on your face,” snickered Hector.

I froze. Because I knew the answer.

YES. To both. I'm afraid I'll fall behind in my schoolwork and studying if I keep taking weekends off to do so-called fun activities. And, of course, I am terrified of wiping out on the dance floor.

“Hey, Hector.” Ox swooped in behind me. “And Jazzie.”

“It's Jazmine,” Jazmine said through gritted teeth.

I relaxed a little. Ox knew what these two were like.

“Has Emma told you yet about her new project?”

“My wha—?” I started to say, but Ox nudged me. He leaned down and whispered, “Just go with it.”

“Oh . . . right! That project,” I sputtered. “Well, it's still sort of a secret.”

Jazmine's eyes narrowed.

Ha. Keep her guessing.

“Anyway, time for homeroom,” I said cheerily. “Bye, Quinn! Bye, Ox!” I waved and turned and for the second time that morning. . . .

I crashed into something.

BAM!

OW!

I'd walked smack into the CLOSED homeroom door.

It was like slow motion:

First, I crashed into the door.

Then I flew backward into the air . . .

Lost hold of backpack on way down . . .

To the floor . . .

Whoomp!
I landed flat in the middle of the hallway. I shut my eyes to regroup a little bit. And to avoid seeing the crowd of people stepping around me.

“Emma!” I heard Ox's voice. “Are you okay?”

I groaned. This was superembarrassing.

“I think she hit her head!” Quinn's voice said.

My head? Oh no! I hoped my brain was working. I quickly ran through the first ten digits of pi. Easy. Whew.

“Emma, open your eyes,” Ox said worriedly.

I sighed. I couldn't avoid the humiliation forever. I opened my eyes and began to get up.

“I'm all right,” I said, grabbing on to the hand Ox was holding out.

“I've got Emma's backpack,” Quinn said. “We should take her to the nurse's office.”

“No nurse!” I said. “No, really, I'm fine.” I smiled at Quinn to reassure her. Ox pulled me up, and I stood confidently upright.

“See?” I announced loudly so that the people left in the hall would hear. Like Jazmine and Hector, who were snickering nearby. “I'm fine! So I'll just head into homeroom—”

Uh.

Standing a little farther down the hall was a boy I'd never seen before. He had black hair and was wearing an olive-colored shirt, and he was staring at me.

And then he multiplied into two.

Double vision! I was experiencing double vision!

I squeezed my eyes closed and opened them again.

Oh no! It was worse! Now there were three! Three of the exact same person!

Triple vision!!!

Maybe the fall DID damage my brain! I shut my eyes again. Triple vision??? I suddenly felt very, very dizzy.

“Or,” I said meekly, “I could go to the nurse after all.”

IN HOMEROOM

Psst.
It was the new guy. Again.

Now what?
Homeroom was almost over, and I hadn't finished my homework, which was due first period. At least it was in this same classroom. I'd have a few more minutes while everyone changed classes.

“I've got this teacher for social studies next,” the boy whispered. “Is she easy?”

Great. He was in my social studies class. Just great. Would he try to cheat off me in that class too?

“No,” I whispered back. “And I'm not my sister, so don't ask me for ‘help' in there either.”

“So, do you have a headache too?” he asked.

“What?” I answered. “Why would I have a headache?”

“You know, that twin question? If one twin gets hurt, does the other feel it? I guess in your case, the answer is no,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“Didn't anyone tell you? Your twin hit her head a little while ago. BAM! Total wipeout. They took her to the nurse.”

Oh no! Suddenly it didn't matter that Emma's hair wasn't shiny or that she wore a scrunchie on her head. Emma was hurt! All that mattered was that she was okay!

I waved my hand in the air to get permission to leave class.

“Sorry, I didn't know you didn't know,” the new guy said. “Hope it didn't screw up her genius brain.”

Emma! Her brain! I jumped up and ran out of the classroom.

NURSE'S OFFICE

“Are you sure you feel okay?” The school nurse bent over me and peered at me.

I looked at the nurse. Yes, one nurse. The simple, elegant number of one, not two blurry nurses or three blurry nurses. That was an enormous relief.

“I feel fine,” I said. “But perhaps you could check to see if my pupils are dilated, just in case.”

I held up the little flashlight/pen/key chain I'd gotten at last year's state spelling bee and switched it on.

Bzzzt!

“What was that?” The nurse jumped back.

“My flashlight/pen/key chain that I got at a spelling
bee.” I showed her. “It buzzes like a bee. A bee, for a spelling bee—get it?”

Suddenly there was a louder
buzz
from a different direction.

“That's my phone,” the nurse said rushing away from my cot. “Stay right there, honey.”

“Honey?” I called after her. “Like from a beehive?” Heh. Bee puns.

I flicked my flashlight off and on a few times while the nurse talked on the phone.
Bzzzt. Bzzzt.
I clipped the key chain back on my backpack and fidgeted around on the cot where I'd been stuck for the last twenty-one minutes. Twenty-one minutes gone meant there was only twenty-five minutes left of science class. Subtracting the three and a half minutes it would take me to walk to class, that would only leave twenty two and a half minutes left of science.

I couldn't miss an entire science class and let Jazmine get ahead of me. I also had to turn in my plan for the science fair today, so I had to get my A game ready.
A
for
AcadEmma.