Triple Trouble (4 page)

“Right on time,” the school secretary said. “And congratulations to you! You must feel so proud.”

“Thanks!” Well, it was looking like Tess was right. Whew! I wasn't in trouble. This was great!

“You can leave your bag here and go right on into the principal's office conference room,” the secretary said. “Do you know where that is?”

“Yes.” I sighed. It was where Emma and I had our meeting with the principal and our parents and teachers after Twin Switch Fail Number One, the first week of school. At least now the room would bring better memories! I went down the short hallway and saw that the door was slightly open.

“And here she is!” Principal Patel said. “Our star!”

Yay! That's me!

I smiled my best “commercial” smile at the small group of people sitting in chairs. They looked very official, in suits and dresses and other businessy things. A few of them smiled back. A few did not.

Eeps.

“Hello,” I said. I felt a little awkward standing there while they all looked at me, but hey, I wanted to be an actress, so I would pretend this was an audition.

“This is our esteemed school board as well as a few members of the state department of educational success,” the principal said. “You may recognize them.”

I went along with it and nodded. Principal wanted to show off? Okay! I'd redeem myself for all my past wrongs. Now, where was Emma?

“We're very proud,” one of the women said.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling. How nice. I shook
out my hair a little so they could see the shiny hair and friendly “everygirl” look that had won us the role. (That's what the Hollywood director had told us.)

“Would you mind demonstrating some of your prowess to us, Ms. Mills?” one of the women asked me.

“Sure?” I hesitated. Okay, I wasn't sure what
prowess
was. Why wasn't Emma here yet? She would know what the word meant and how to respond. I'd have to wing it without her. I took a guess that it meant I was supposed to show off our lines.

“I love having shiny hair. Shiny hair makes me feel shiny inside,” I said brightly.

I swished my hair, just the way the director had told me they liked. Swish! Swish!

The audience stopped smiling. Hmmm. Swish! I swished harder. The audience looked confused, annoyed, and amused. But not impressed. Okay, I'd try again.

“Um. Teen Sheen shampoo? That's what makes your hair so supershiny?” I continued. Still the same response. Not smiling. Well, I'd saved the best for last. I saw one of the people had a water bottle on the table, and I reached over and grabbed it.

I held it up to my face as if it were a bottle of Teen Sheen shampoo and smiled my best dazzling smile.

“ ‘Shiny, shiny, double the shiny!' ” I said. Yes! I had nailed that line, if I did say so myself. However, my audience was not applauding, or asking for my autograph. Actually, they looked a little freaked out. Two of them murmured to each other.

“Ah, heh-heh.” the principal gave a nervous laugh. “Ms. Mills is demonstrating her
other
talent: acting. Yes, she and her twin sister were recently featured on a national television commercial.”

Everyone in the room went “Ohhh!” and started nodding like they got it. But I didn't get it.

Principal continued. “Does anyone have a question?”

Yes, actually, me! I had a question. If they weren't talking about the commercial, why was I here? What questions were they going to ask me? And where the heck was Emma?!?!

“Ahem.” One of the men cleared his throat. “What was your winning question and answer?”

“Winning question in . . . ?” I asked nervously.

“Oh!” Principal said. “I need to be more clear. She's so brilliant, she wins many competitions—science, Geobee, spelling. We're talking about your recent win in Mathletes. What was the winning question and answer?”

Oh. OH! Oh. Uh-oh.

They thought I was Emma! You could probably see the lightbulb go off over my head right then. I must have accidentally gotten a letter for my sister.

“I'm not—” I started to explain, but Principal Patel looked kind of desperate. I realized she had brought me/Emma in to show off. I didn't want to embarrass her. Okay, I just had to answer one question and—ta-da!—all would be fine.

The good news was, I knew the answer to that question! Yes, I did! Not that I would have been able to figure out the math problem myself, obviously. But because after the competition, Emma kept saying it in the car on the way home.

“They asked me that angle blah blah secant problem!” She kept saying over and over, endlessly. “And I answered forty percent! And then they said, ‘That is correct! Emma Mills is the Mathletes champion!' ”

Her reliving that moment had drilled it into my skull. Phew. Right now I was thankful that my sister had been so totally annoying! I repeated what Emma said.

Everyone at the table murmured approvingly and applauded me. Awesome! I did a little bow, like I thought Emma would do.

This was working out just fine. Actually, it was a
good thing they had mistakenly called me in because Emma was so stressed and well, messy, today. In her sweats and with her unwashed look, she wasn't really representing.

“Emma, to what do you owe your math success?” somebody asked.

I caught Principal Patel's eye. Okay, Payton. Think like Emma.

“Well, I have great advanced-math teachers, and I'm able to take advanced courses online too,” I said. Everyone nodded, so I went on, encouraged. “And of course, I couldn't do it with my fabulous twin sister, Payton!”

“Ah, two skilled mathematicians in one family?” a woman said.

Wait, uh, no. Let's not go there.

“Well!” I said brightly. “I should probably get to my . . .” Second period . . . Emma had . . . um . . . some class.

“Oh, I'll write you an excuse,” Principal Patel said. “We have time for a few more questions.”

“Ms. Mills, what is an asymptote?” the woman asked me.

Um. Uh. Er. I broke out into a sweat so cold I probably looked as unwashed as Emma. Um. Uh. What
should I do? I didn't want to embarrass the principal. So I did the first thing that came to mind.

I sneezed. I did the biggest, grossest fake sneeze that I could possibly fake.

“Excuse me!” I gasped. “The answer is . . . achoo!”

I held my arm up to my mouth and sneezed harder. Then I went into a cough-choking-gag noise.

“Emma! Are you okay?” the principal asked.

“Water!” I gasped, and pointed to the hallway.

“Goodness, well, perhaps you should go to the water fountain,” one of the woman said authoritatively. “Thank you for sharing your accomplishments with us, Emma.”

I backed out of the room and fled down the hall before they could stop me. I didn't stop until I had fast-walked up the stairs and into the empty hallway. I leaned against a locker to catch my breath.

Whew. Emma might have academic awards, but I deserved an
Academy Award
for that performance!

ALSO BACK TO CLASS

I slid the note into my tote bag as I walked quickly to my science class. The note I'd gotten from the principal's office. All it said was:

Please report to Classroom B13 at 10:43.

Mrs. Burkle

I assumed Payton had gotten the same note. Last time we'd had a special meeting with Mrs. Burkle, we'd ended up going off to Hollywood. I didn't know what to expect this time, but I hoped it didn't add to my
workload. I couldn't worry about it now. Right now I needed to focus, and my focus was 100 percent science. I pushed open the door to my science class. Everyone looked at me as I walked in.

“ . . . are called metamorphic rocks.” Dr. Perkins stopped her lecture and looked at me. “Emma, I'll take your pass, and you may have a seat.”

I handed her my pass and tried to head unobtrusively to my usual seat in the second row. Except someone was in it. Someone had stolen my prime seat. I scanned the room, ignoring Jazmine's smirk. The only empty seat was in the back, behind Cashmere.

I hated sitting in the back. Plus Cashmere had really big hair that was hard to see over. But I sat down and listened to Dr. Perkins.

“What are metamorphic rocks with mineral crystals arranged in parallel layers called?” Dr. Perkins asked.

My science teacher hadn't even finished the question before my hand shot up. Jazmine James raised her hand at least three milliseconds after mine, but since she was sitting in the prime seat in front-row center, the teacher must have seen her first.

“Jazmine?”

“Foliated,” Jazmine answered.

Whatever. That was an easy question. I'd save myself for a more challenging question.

“Class, what is an example of a mpppf mpppf rock?”

What? What had she said? Dr. Perkins had turned toward the chalkboard, so I couldn't hear the end of the question. I tapped Cashmere in front of me. Her hair wasn't blocking as much as usual because she was leaning forward, as if she were trying hard to hear as well.

“Psst, Cashmere,” I whispered. “What did the teacher say?”

“Yes!” Cashmere's head suddenly jerked up, and she shouted, “Yes, I'll marry you, Ron Weasley!”

Half the class—including me—jumped. And then everyone except me started cracking up.

“Wha—? Where am I?” Cashmere sputtered.

“I'm sorry, did I wake you up?” Dr. Perkins said sarcastically.

“No,” Cashmere said. “You didn't. Emma did. She jabbed me in the back.”

Everyone turned to look at me. Ahem.

“Jabbing is frowned upon.” Dr. Perkins frowned at me.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“But sleeping in class is also frowned upon, Cashmere,” Dr. Perkins said. “Although Mr. Weasley would be a fine
choice for a husband. But I digress. Let me diagram the rock formations on the Smart Board for you.”

Dr. Perkins started Smart Boarding. Cashmere turned around and glared at me.
Puhlease!
Like it was my fault she was sleeping through an important class. Far more troubling was who had turned around and was looking at me from the front of the room: Jazmine. And she was grinning.

Nooooo! I had talked my way out of the nurse's office for this? Jazmine. A worthy opponent. Jazmine turned around, flipping her ponytail as she faced the teacher. Her nice, neat ponytail. I put my hand up to my hair and grimaced. Jazmine was wearing a color-block shirt, black pants, and wedges. I had to admit she looked cute, stylish and organized, and put together. I, in my sweats and old T-shirt, looked like I was falling apart.

This was wrong. If Jazmine could be pulled together, so could I.

It was time to regroup. Organize. Prioritize.

Appearance. Superficial, perhaps, but it would help show that I was back in the game. Luckily, I knew Payton always kept a spare outfit in her locker. I'd change into it after class and before my meeting with
Mrs. Burkle. Yep, change of clothes, change of attitude.

Thinking about clothes reminded me of the shopping trip Mom took Payton and me on. We both got dresses for the dance. . . .

“Blah blah blah your homework assignment,” Dr. Perkins was saying.

Bzzzt
. The bell rang.

Wha—? Class was over? I'd missed the homework assignment! I'd been daydreaming! Me! Spacing out in class?! Oh no. Payton was right. That fall had affected me! My brain was broken.

Onward, Emma. I would start pulling myself together starting
now
. I went to our lockers, but Payton wasn't there. Fortunately, I knew her locker combination. I reached in and pulled out the bag with the extra outfit and her brush. I headed to the nearest bathroom, and a few minutes later, I was in Payton's clothes:

Oversized pink sweater (Pink was Payton's signature color, not my favorite, but beggars can't be choosers.)

Dark jeans with a little rip in them