Take Two (16 page)

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Authors: Julia DeVillers

BOOK: Take Two
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I shouldn't be interrupting her tutoring, but it seemed like I hadn't talked to my twin in forever. She'd been buried in her studies. Emma would probably appreciate a break from all her seriousness.

How's Ox?
I texted, figuring I'd bring a smiley to Emma's thoughts.

Ox who?
Emma texted back.

What?

What?
I texted.

G2G,
Emma texted.

Perfect. Emma finally uses textspeak . . . to cut me off.

Ox who? What did she mean by that? Emma and I talked about everything—but she hadn't mentioned anything about Ox.

I sat down on a stool painted like a tree stump. (Sheesh, this Drama Club used a lot of trees in their plays.)

Then it hit me. Emma didn't want to talk/text about Ox, because . . . Ox BROKE UP WITH HER!!! Wait. They weren't officially going out. But it was still obvious that they liked each other. Or did.

Poor Emma.

Poor, heartbroken Emma.

I looked at the time and realized my shift was over. I should go to Emma, and help her through this traumatic time. I trudged across the basement and climbed the ladder. I thought about my sister's first boy crush crushing her heart.
Grr . . . boys.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Nick asked as I emerged from the underground and onto the stage.

Oops. I must've been looking angry.

Nick was moving the trees off the stage. Everyone else was
in the audience seats, while Burkle was passing out papers or something.

“Sorry,” I said. “Not your fault.”

“Sorry you got nailed with an apple,” he said. “Mason and I felt bad about that.”

“It's okay.” I smiled at Nick. He was a nice boy.

“I know sometimes I would do something like that on purpose,” Mason said to me. “Like if you were mean, it would have been kinda funny.
Bam! Splat!
Hit with an apple! But this time it was really an accident. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” I told him.

“Hey, nice shirt,” Nick said.

I looked down and rolled my eyes. CALCULUVS!

“It's really Emma's,” I explained. “Only my twin sister would advertise that calculus goes with . . . well, um . . . love.”

I looked at Nick. Was it my imagination? Or were his cheeks turning pink? And why did my face feel hot?

“Hey, tech guy!”

Reilly came over. Now my face felt even hotter. Could this boy be any better looking?

“Could you adjust the lighting during my scenes?” Reilly asked Nick. “I think I'd look better with a bit more light.”

“You're a scarecrow,” Nick said. “You're supposed to look like you could scare away crows.”

“Well, you can't see me enough,” Reilly was saying.

“It's so true,” Sydney cooed as she came over. “You can never see enough of you good-looking Drama boys.”

She gave Reilly a flirtatious smile. Ugh.

“And that includes you, Nicky,” Sydney said, turning to Nick. “I don't know why you want to be backstage. You could be an actor, too!”

Double ugh.

“Good thing he's backstage.” I surprised myself by speaking up. “I mean, without Nick's tech stuff, the play wouldn't be nearly as good. Backstage is important, too!”

I had a moment of happy when I saw Nick smile at me, but it was soon eclipsed by Sydney's less genuine grin. Sydney moved over so she was standing next to me.

“Backstage
is
important,” Sydney said loudly. Then, under her breath, so only I could hear her, she continued, “However, under the stage? So NOT important. A place to hide
loooosers
.”

“But Payton's under the stage,” Mason said, apparently also hearing her.

“Exactly,” Sydney said to him.

Mason's eyes became slits and he walked away.

“Anyways, dude, work on that lighting,” Reilly said to Nick.

“Ooh, and that gives me an idea,” Sydney squealed. “I can put glitter face powder all over my face and then when the light hits me I'll sparkle! It will highlight my—OUCH!”

Sydney suddenly jumped and grabbed her butt. And something clattered across the stage. An . . . apple?

“What happened?” Reilly and Nick asked her.

“Something hit my butt!” she wailed.

Reilly snickered.

“I mean my
back
.” Sydney looked embarrassed.

“Ooopsie!” a voice called from offstage.

We all turned to see Mason, next to the apple launcher, calling over. “I was just moving this and it accidentally went off. My bad!”

I tried to hide a grin behind my hand.

“I think I need to go supervise the props,” Nick said, also looking like he was going to smile.

“Smile all you want,” Sydney growled to me. “You won't be smiling when I'm onstage and you're underneath it.”

Yeah, yeah. I know. Sydney could always get the last word. But at least she had to say that while rubbing her . . . back.

“Exit everyone!” Mrs. Burkle clapped her hands and shouted. “Shoo, people! Go home and practice your lines. We do not have much more rehearsal time until our performance!”

Everyone filed out of the auditorium, excitedly talking about the play. I sighed. There were different plays put on during each year, so the tryout-rehearsal-performance schedule took place over a few weeks. I would probably still be stuck doing school service when auditions for the NEXT play were held.

All this just because Emma and I had traded places.

Emma!

I just remembered. Ox! I picked up my pace and made it to the bus in time to save a seat for my sister. When she got on and sat down next to me, she looked miserable.

“Emma, if you want to talk about Ox I'm here for you,” I said, quietly, so no one else could hear. Inside my head, though, I was screaming
Talk! Tell me what happened! I need details!

But all Emma did was sigh, and then grumble, “Math and romance can
not
coexist.”

Whew. Good thing I'd put a jacket over the borrowed T-shirt.
CALCULUVS
! was the last slogan she needed to see.

Emma

Eighteen

MONDAY AFTER SCHOOL

I was in full AcadEmma mode, and had gotten all my old habits back. At first it was tougher than I'd anticipated. While
I
knew my new equation (0% social + 100% academics = ME), other people did not.

Quinn had grabbed me earlier in the day in the halls between PE (waste of time) and Study Hall (best use of time). “Emma,” she'd asked. “So when do you want to do something after school? This week?”

“Oh,” I'd said, startled out of solving a math proof in my head. “Quinn. No. I mean, I can't. I've got too much work to do.”

“Okay,” Quinn said. “Next week?”

I'd looked at my newish friend. She was bouncy and fun, and it looked like she'd gotten her hair cut. I'd fought the urge to comment on it. No. My social life had to be ripped away
like a Band-Aid. Fast and painful at first, but no nonsense. No second thoughts.

“Quinn.” I took a deep breath. “I'm really trying to focus on my studies these days. You know, with the mathletes competition coming up; and then there's the Geobee and Scrabble-lympics not far behind. . . .”

My voice had trailed off as I watched Quinn's face go from smiling to not smiling.

“I understand,” she said. “I really do. Good luck with all that. I just hoped—well, I had lots of fun with you that time you came over.”

Quinn gave a little half wave and walked away.

I had fun, too!
the voice in my head yelled after her.
Lots of fun!

“Bad voice,” I'd muttered. “Go away.”

I heard some giggling. I looked. Yup. The girls were laughing at me, talking to myself.

I ignored them. Things were back to normal.

I had been polite but monosyllabic to anyone who had tried to engage me in conversation today. I was beginning to feel like I had my time and my brain to myself.

Except for one tiny exception.

“Hey, Emma.”

Okay. Not so tiny. Very tall, actually.

“Uh—hi, Ox,” I squeaked.

I was at my locker. I pretended to ponder which books to bring home. (The real answer? All of them.)

“What's going on?” Ox asked me.

“Oh, the usual,” I replied, trying to stay cool.

“No,” Ox said slowly. “I mean, what's really going on? You've been acting . . . distant. I thought we were going to go over some mathletes problems this weekend on iChat.”

I had ignored his chat request.

“And you didn't answer my text,” he finished.

I know. Sigh.

“Emma, did I do something wrong?”

Yes,
I thought.
You distracted me.

“No,” I said. “Not at all. It's just that I'm really, really busy these days.”

Even to me, that sounded weak.

“Okay,” Ox said, after a moment. “It's just that maybe you should give someone a clue, before you blow them off. Instead of leaving them hanging.”

Clangggg! Clanggg!
The bell rang. Ox didn't move. I knew if I spoke I might break down. I knew it was best to let him go. I knew Sydney and most likely many other girls would go after him, try to get his attention. Because he was handsome and the quarterback on the football team.

But I knew he was much more than that. He was interesting and really smart and nice. I knew too much about Ox. And none of it would help me win mathletes competitions.

“I gotta go,” I mumbled. I stuck my head deeper into my locker. I counted to ten and when I came out, Ox was gone. The hallways were full of people, but I felt very alone.

Just the way I'd planned it.

Payton

Nineteen

FINAL DRESS REHEARSAL

A Few Days Later—Friday

“I can't believe it's final dress rehearsal. I'm so nervous,” I heard Tess say. “I think I'm going to throw up!”

Stage fright! That feeling of knowing you're going onstage in front of a crowd of people. You might feel shaky! Or sweaty and clammy! Or like you're going to throw up!

Emma had told me what to do for stage fright. She'd learned her methods from years of spelling bees, mathletes, and accepting awards for being the best student our elementary school ever had.

Take a deep breath. Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. Press one nostril closed and breathe through the other one. Then switch.

I closed my eyes and pretended I, too, had stage fright and thought I was going to throw up. But I didn't, because while everyone upstairs was freaking out for final dress rehearsal,
I was under the stage clearing out room to store all the stage props after the show. I could hear Tess and the cast directly above me through the ceiling door.

“This is our final run-through, people,” Mrs. Burkle said. “The play is tomorrow! Focus, people, focus!”

I'd seen the set and everyone wearing their costumes on the way in. Everything did look pretty cool. The Yellow Brick Road, which I'd lined up myself brick by brick in the stage basement, looked especially awesome, I thought.

“Dude!” I heard Reilly say. “My straw is itching like a beast!”

Even covered in straw Reilly also had looked especially awesome. I'd seen him on the way in wearing the green Scarecrow hat, overalls, and triangle nose. Okay, maybe it wasn't his best look, but his piercing blue eyes still shone through.

Ah.

Then all of a sudden I heard a huge gasp. And people started going, “Awesome! Check it out! Cool!”

“Hurrah! Bravo!” Mrs. Burkle shouted. “Glinda's bubble has arrived!”

“My bubble?” Sydney squealed.

Glinda, of course, arrived in a see-through bubble when she first met Dorothy. I knew that Nick was psyched about what he'd found to use as a bubble. But they'd had to special order it and it hadn't arrived until today.

Everyone was still going, “That's so cool!” So I had to see
what it was. I climbed up the ladder and peeked my head out for a view.

Oh my gosh! Okay, that
was
cool. Nick was rolling something down the aisles. It was a plastic see-through circle that was bigger than he was. It looked like a giant clear hamster ball.

“Nick!” Mrs. Burkle clasped her hands with joy. “You've outdone yourself!”

“You climb in and walk around,” Nick said. “Sydney, you need to get in it and practice walking.”

I saw Sydney, wearing the beautiful pink Glinda dress, put her hands on her hips and frown.

“I have to get in
that?
” Sydney asked. “I thought I'd float down from the ceiling in a light bubble, that would pop as I made my entrance. Like in the movie.”

“Are you kidding?” Nick asked. “What do you think this is—a major motion picture? I can't pull that off!”

“This is fabulous!” Mrs. Burkle announced. “Now, climb in.”

“That thing is sweet, dude!” Reilly said. “I'd rock that thing.”

“Then Reilly, can you show me how to use it?” Sydney asked sweetly.

Reilly climbed in the giant ball. He did look like he was in a bubble!

“Okay, now just walk really slowly,” Nick told him.

Reilly walked slowly, grinning. When the bubble hit one of the audience chairs, it bounced off a little. Everyone
laughed. Reilly went a little faster and bounced off a wall like a pinball. Then the giant ball was bouncing off walls left and right.

Sydney was seriously lucky. Not only did it look fun, but the audience was going to love the special effect! I stuck my head out the trapdoor even farther to watch as Reilly rolled himself in the bubble down the aisle and bumped off the stage.

Just then Sydney's pink slipper appeared right next to my nose. One more step and she was going to stomp right on me. I quickly closed the trapdoor a little bit so she wouldn't notice me.

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