Take Two (17 page)

“Tess, you look so cute in your Dorothy dress!” I heard Sydney say. “You're like the best actress ever! I hope I'm half as good as you.”

Ugh, now I really was going to throw up.

“That's so nice of you,” Tess answered. “But you're a great actress, too! You make a perfect Glinda. And you look gorgeous in that dress.”

Gak.

“Aw, thanks,” Sydney said. “You always look gorgeous. I mean, like your hair? It's uhmazing! Hey! I'm going to the mall this weekend with Cashmere. You should totally come with us!”

I suddenly had a flashback. The first time I met Sydney in homeroom she complimented my skirt. She invited me to the mall. She totally sucked me in with her PopularPersonality!

Then she squashed me flat as a bug when she humiliated me and dropped me publicly when I stood up to her. (And oozed a burrito all over the lunch table.) Sydney was using her EvilPopularCharm to suck Tess in!

Tess was the new Payton!

Tess!
I silently begged.
Say no! Don't do it!

“Um, okay,” Tess said.

Noooo! Tess was sucked in! And then I realized what that meant for me. There was no way Sydney was going to share her with me. Bye, Tess. You were a good friend while it lasted.

Sigh.

Could I be any more left out? No! No, I could not. I needed a break from this. They could bond and become BFFs. They could dress rehearsal their play. They could float off together looking gorgeous in their plastic bubble. But that didn't mean I had to be tortured by any of it. I stumbled out of the stage basement, blinking back tears.

I stood in the hall and leaned against a locker. I just needed to breathe air that wasn't under the stage.

“Hi, Payton,” someone said. It was Ox.

Ox! Ox who broke my sister's heart and stomped on it into a million teeny pieces! He was walking down the hallway to me.

I narrowed my eyes and glared at him. There. Now he'd go away.

“So,” Ox said. “What's up?”

Or, he would stop and lean against the locker next to me.

I glared at him again. What's up? Well, for starters, you dumped my sister! My sister, who didn't even want to like a boy until you came along and used your EvilPopularCharm to suck her into your trap!! You squashed her flat as a bug and dropped her publicly!

And look what happened! Emma was so crushed she turned back into the old Emma! The Emma where people don't matter and she didn't care about anything but her schoolwork!

She wouldn't even hang out with anyone . . . including me.

I scowled at Ox fiercely and started walking.

“You two twins are masters of freezing me out,” Ox said. “But just do me one favor. Just tell me what I did wrong.”

“You hurt my sister,” I replied. “Maybe she's awkward with boys and things and maybe she seems like a totally cold-fish person when she's doing her mathletes and stuff. But you really hurt her.”

“I hurt her?” Ox looked confused.

I turned to him. “I know you didn't want to be boyfriend/girlfriend or whatever,” I said. “But Emma really liked you, ok? And then you have to go and dump her. And now she's ignoring everyone—even me—and it's all your fault!”

There. I'd said it. Emma might not be happy about it, but I couldn't let this boy just squish her heart like a little bug.

“Payton,” Ox said slowly. “I didn't dump Emma.
She
dumped
me
.”

Wait. What?

“She dumped you?” I asked him.

“I thought things were cool,” Ox said, looking miserable. “I know Emma is too busy for a boyfriend, but we were hanging out and then one day she said she was too busy to even talk to me. Even
talk
to me. Bam. That was it. Over.”

My jaw dropped open.

“So you didn't crush her heart, causing her to become the old Stressed-Out-Only-My-Grades-Matter Emma?” I asked him.

Ox shook his head.

“I thought it was you,” I said. “So wait. Then what
did
cause it?”

“I don't know,” Ox said. “But if there is a way to change it back, let me know.”

Wow. Ox looked really sad.

“I miss Emma,” Ox said sadly.

Aw. He really liked my sister.

Something needed to be done about this. Because, I missed Emma, too.

What could have made Emma change back, if it wasn't Ox?

“Something doesn't add up here,” I said.

“Add up!” Ox suddenly got a look of panic on his face. “Adding! Subtracting! Exponential carrying! I have to get back to mathletes! I was just taking a bathroom break!”

And Ox raced off down the hall, muttering math things.

Okay, he
was
perfect for my sister. So Tess might be perfect for Sydney. I might be perfect for nobody at all.

But Ox + Emma = Perfect Match. How to get Emma to realize that? That was one math equation I was going to figure out.

Emma

Twenty

SATURDAY MORNING MATHLETES COMPETITION

“Ladies and gentleman, we are down to the final three mathletes,” the announcer's voice boomed from her clip-on microphone out into the audience.

Three hours and seventeen minutes ago, our first mathletes competition had begun. One written exam and one Top 20 head-to-head competition later, it was down to the final three.

Destiny Robinson from Vyse Avenue Prep School, Rajeev Sundeep from Shaker Heights, our rival public middle school,

Emma Mills from—well, you know—it's ME!!!

I was sitting onstage, grinning. Because, well, I had just watched Jazmine “Fourth Place” James mess up a question and take a seat in the audience.

Buh-bye.

Okay, Jazmine seemed to have a cold, as evidenced by her bright-red nose, ever-present tissue box (which the judges checked to make sure had no hints or cheats on it), and at least two sneezing fits.

Her last answer sounded like “elebed” instead of “eleven,” due to her stuffed-up nose. Of course, both “elebed” and “eleven” were incorrect. So sorry. Sit down in the seat of shame between your parents.

Hee.

I looked out into the audience at my parents. My mom smiled. My dad looked nervous. Payton, sitting next to them, gave me a thumbs-up. It made me feel good to have my own little rooting section in the filled-to-capacity auditorium of Shaker Heights Middle School. They had a nicer auditorium than we did, I'd noticed, but at least there were NO GECKOS. Their school mascot looked to be some kind of elf. Maybe a leprechaun . . .

“Emma Mills. Your problem is . . .” The announcer read it from her note cards.

I stood up, walked over to the standing uniform, and performed some mental calculations.

“One thousand and seventy-one square meters,” I said.

“Correct!” the three judges said simultaneously.

“Go, Emma!” a familiar voice called out, amongst all the applause.

It was number seven, Ox. Ox had made the Top 10 and
then beat three really tough competitors. Secretly, I had been so happy and proud for him. Outwardly, I showed no emotion. This was my game face, and game on!

Two rounds passed, then Destiny went down on a proportional reasoning problem.

I looked at Rajeev.

He looked at me.

In that moment, it was just the two of us and math. The rest of the world—Jazmine, Payton, and even Ox—faded out of my mind.

Rajeev's turn . . . Correct!

Emma's turn . . . Correct!

Rajeev's turn . . . Correct!

Emma's turn. Uh-oh, this was a bad one. I wasn't sure about my answer . . . Correct!

Rajeev's turn.

“I'm sorry,” the head judge said. “That is incorrect. Emma Mills must answer this next problem to become today's winner.”

It was an algebraic expressions problem. Have I mentioned how much I l-o-v-e algebra? Especially when I give the correct answer and win the first mathletes competition!

“You won!” Payton cried, and rushed to the stage to give me a hug.

Then I had to get my picture taken holding my trophy. Then a picture between Rajeev and Destiny.

Finally, I was set free to celebrate. My parents, Coach Babbitt, and Counselor Case were all in a group. When I reached
them they were all “Congratulations!” . . . “You were wonderful, honey!” and “You should be so proud of yourself!”

And I was. Proud of myself. Proud, excited, a little dizzy, and . . . something else. An emotion I couldn't identify.

“See you at Swirly's!” I heard someone say. Swirly's was a nearby ice-cream and sorbet shoppe.

My family was not going to Swirly's. Because it was not just a big day for me, it was the night of Payton's play.

“It's not my play,” Payton grumbled whenever my parents called it that. “I'm not even
in
it. Just under it.”

“I'm sure your behind-the-scenes efforts have helped,” my mother told Payton. “Any activity you've contributed to, we want to support.”

“Yes! We are
so
there!” my father said.

“Dad!” I hissed.

“Shhh . . .,” Payton shushed.

I held my six-inch trophy in one hand and dragged my dad toward the exit with the other.

Just before we reached it, I heard someone say, “Congratulations, Emma.”

I turned. It was Ox.

“I know how much this means to you,” Ox said. He had his hands in his jeans pockets and looked a little . . . sad.

“Thanks,” I said. I wanted to say something meaningful back. But keeping away from Ox had been the right thing to do. No matter how wrong it felt. Because, I was the mathletes champion! Emma = Winner. My goals had to be clear.

“Are you going to Swirly's?” Ox asked me.

“No.” I shook my head. “We're going to the school play.”

“Well,” Ox said, “see ya.” And he walked out the exit door.

And then
they
walked by.

“Claudine! Martin!” my father called out.

Mr. and Mrs. James stopped next to my family. With, of course, Jazmine.

“Great first competition, huh?” my dad said cluelessly. “Our girls really know their stuff!”

The Jameses all just looked at my trophy.

“Jaz!” Hector called. “Swirly's?”

“No!” Mr. and Mrs. James said simultaneously.

“Jazmine has a bad head cold,” Mr. James said. “She needs to go right home to bed.”

As my family (well, my parents) waved them good-bye, we heard Jazmine's mother.

“Right to bed with your math books,” Mrs. James said to Jazmine. “The next competition is in just ten weeks, and you, young lady,
you
will be holding that trophy.”

Jazmine sneezed. The only thing she was holding now was a tissue to her nose. I almost felt sorry for her, with a pushy mom like that. Suddenly, a white something came flying through the air and landed in my trophy.

Payton and I looked in.

“Ewww. It's a tissue.” I grimaced.

“A
used
tissue.” Payton gagged.

“Jazmine boogers,” we both groaned. “Gross!”

I wanted to tell Jazmine to take it out, but she and her parents were long gone.

So here I was, holding a trophy full of Jazmine sneeze. As the last of the mathletes and their families left the building, laughing and joking around, I did not feel quite as happy as I'd expected.

I mean, I'd gotten what I'd wanted. (Hadn't I?) Yes! I had won.

Payton

Twenty-one

SATURDAY EVENING

Backstage Before the Play

“Toto!” Tess cried out dramatically as an eighth-grade girl was tying a bow into the end of each of her braids. “Where's Toto?”

“You sound very convincing,” I said to Tess. “But I think the line is ‘Toto, come back!' when Toto runs after the Wicked Witch.”

“No, I really mean, where is Toto?” Tess wailed. “My stuffed Toto is missing! I can't find him! I can't be Dorothy without my Toto!”

“Um, Tess?” I said. I pointed to the chair, where her blue-and-white checked dress was puffed out. “You're sitting on him.”

“Oh,” Tess said, pulling the stuffed terrier out from under her petticoat. “Thanks. Wait! Where's my bow?”

“In your hair.” The eighth grader sighed.

Tess was really nervous. But I didn't blame her. The play was tonight! I'd come to the school with my family after Emma's big mathletes win. Emma and my parents were out getting their tickets, and taking their seats with the rest of the audience.

Mrs. Burkle had asked me to help out backstage. When she'd asked, I'd thought she was going to say
under
the stage, so this was a relief. I watched everyone getting the final touches to their stage makeup and costumes. I saw Nick checking the light boards. I saw Mrs. Burkle running around like a crazy person.

And I saw Tess practically hyperventilating.

“Take deep breaths,” I told Tess. “In the nose, out through the mouth.”

Tess breathed in and out. I hoped that was helpful.

“Payton!” Mrs. Burkle raced over to me. “What are you doing?”

“Um, helping Tess breathe,” I said.

“Breathe? I would think she could breathe on her own, yes?” Mrs. Burkle said loudly. “Come with me!”

I didn't have time to explain the whole breathing thing, so I just followed Burkle across the stage. She stopped to talk to The Munchkins and signaled for me to wait a minute.

And that's when I saw more munchkins backstage. Named Mason and Jason. And Emma was chasing them.

“Payton! Save me! Your sister is after me!” One of them ducked behind me.

“What are you guys doing back here?” I asked. I turned to Emma. “Are they allowed backstage?”

“No!” Emma said. “That's why I'm after them! First, they came and sat with me in the audience. They begged! They pleaded! I couldn't say no to their mother, the woman who holds my future in her hands, could I? But instead of staying with me, the boys took off!”