Times Squared (19 page)

“Thanks, Jazmine,” I called up to her.

“Go, Geckos,” she responded dryly, and looked back down at her tour map.

I took a pretzel. Payton took a
dosa
and Tess took a bag of honey nuts.

“Let's take a picture of us to send to Mom and Dad,” Payton suggested. She pulled out my phone and held it up. “Say, NYC!”

“Mom and Dad will be thrilled to see us in our matching hats and dresses,” I said, leaning in.

She clicked the picture just as Sydney and Cashmere came down the aisle toward us.

“Nice hats, twins.” Sydney smirked.

“Nice hats, twins,” Cashmere echoed.

I ignored them as they sat in the row ahead and across from us.

“Nice hats, twins!”

“Okay, enough!” Payton growled and stood up. But I grabbed her arm and dragged her back down. Because
Mrs. Burkle
had said that last one as she came down the aisle.

“Thank you, Mrs. Burkle,” I replied, patting my Empire State Building spiky top. “Sydney and Cashmere had just complimented us on them too.”

“I didn't know you had it in you, Emma,” Mrs. Burkle said. “You're so free-spirited on this field trip. And perhaps you should join drama. Your frog was so convincing.”

“Thank you,” I said. “But I'll leave the drama to Payton.”

“Ah, yes—Payton, improv at its finest!” Burkle smiled at Payton. “Perhaps a wee bit out of control, yes. But the audience loved you!”

Payton was beaming! She had even been asked for an autograph after the show.

“It has been a successful trip,” I mused as Burkle went up and down the aisle doing a head count. “Not quite what I expected, but a successful trip.”

“You didn't win the math competition, but you won the heart of Ox and an entire audience,” Payton said quietly.

“Shh.” I looked up, but Ox hadn't heard.

“You got to spend quality time with Ashlynn,” I shot back. “And sing on a Broadway stage—so high-pitched it made dogs howl.”

I smiled when I thought of the dogs. After the play Mrs. Burkle had told us that mathlete Ava had seen how poorly Ashlynn had treated the poofy Pomeranians. And Ashlynn's mother said enough is enough; the dogs must go! So Ava had texted her parents, who gave her permission to adopt the puppies!

“I can vouch for Ava's family,” Coach Babbitt had told Mrs. Burkle. “They're very responsible and supportive.”

“Then Ava will give the puppies the love they deserve,” Mrs. Burkle had said. “Bebe, Barbra, and LeaMichele will want for nothing!”

I smiled.

“And, Emma,” Payton said, continuing the teasing, “you got to be a frog and jump awkwardly around in front of hundreds of people. But seriously, you did get up onstage with no fear. Remember when you were petrified to in front of people?”

I did remember. I'd just about had a panic attack when I had to fill in for Payton, who was trapped under
the stage looking for Mason's runaway gecko, in the school's
Wizard of Oz
play. But I'd actually been a decent Glinda the Good Witch. (Although what a relief when Payton emerged and took her rightful place
on
stage. She was a great Glinda.)

“You've really expanded your horizons at school this year,” Tess said to me. “From fashion to being onstage to tutoring. What's up next for Emma? Spirit Club with your foam finger? Cheerleading?”

“Oh no, not Emma and cheerleading!” Sydney called out to us, groaning.

“Don't worry, Sydney,” I called back. “I'm
not
cheerleading.”

“You could play football.” Ox leaned over to me and smiled. “With me.”

“Actually, I'm still giving thought to water polo,” I said. “Adding a sport will make me rather well-rounded.”

“What about you, Payton?” Tess asked. “Are you going to try water polo with Emma?”

“Yeeps, no,” she said. “I'm kind of thinking, though, of taking dance lessons. That way, if Drama Club does a musical, maybe I can be in it. Without tripping and hurting anyone.”

“Speaking of dancing.” Nick leaned over from his seat.
“Payton. Uh. There's homecoming coming up in a couple weeks. Do you, uh, want to go to the dance with me?”

“Yes!” Payton said.

Yay! Yay for Payton! I was about to say, but the bus horn went off.

Blarrrrt! Blaart!

“Please be
crackle crackle
seated,” the tour guide's voice said over a loudspeaker. “
Crackle
We're off on our touronyorksty
crackle, pop
.”

“They must be having technical difficulties,” Nick said.

And then the bus took off down the street. I leaned back and felt the sun on my face. The wind blowing across my foam hat. Aahh . . . the sights and sounds of New York City.

“Mmmmmmble.
Crackle.
Mmmmble.”

And the sound of a malfunctioning loudspeaker.

“I can't hear what the guide is saying,” I complained. “All I hear is
mmble mmble
. How are we going to hear the fascinating facts about New York City?”

“I'm sure you already know every fact about New York City,” Payton said.

“That is true!” I perked up. “I have a near-photographic memory for trivia.

“For example,” I said loudly as we cruised through
Times Square. “Look over there. The LED electronic ticker tape displays letters and numbers that are ten feet high.”

Payton groaned a little.

“And for you Dramatic Geckos,” I said, forging on, “we're now passing the oldest Broadway theater, the Lyceum Theater, built in 1903.”

I noticed people starting to quiet down and listen.

“And there's Bryant Park!” I pointed out.

“Oooh!” squealed Sydney from her row. “That's where Colin Christopher won season six of
Fashion Catwalk
!”

“I know!” Payton exclaimed. “I totally thought Lizzie had the best collection, though.”

“Me too,” Sydney agreed.

Then they both went silent. Sydney and Payton bonding? Awk. Ward.

“Ahem,” I said. “Did you know that beneath the park is a storage area holding over seven million books?”

“Really?” Mrs. Nicely piped. “They should be out and available to the public! With all the literacy problems we face, we need to get books in the hands of as many people as possible!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Nicely,” I said. “But look! We're at the New York Public Library, which holds more than
seven million items that anyone is free to read!”

“Emma, remember when we visited that library? When we were five? I was scared of those two lion statues, but the librarian in the children's room was so nice I got over it.”

“Oh yeah,” I said. “Miss Robbins! She told us the lions were kind and brave, and their names were Patience and Fortitude.”

“Spell those, Jazmine,” I heard Mrs. James say.

“Mo-ther!” Jazmine whined. (She whined? Who knew?) “Oh-kay. P-A-T-I-E . . .”

“And here we are, already at Rockefeller Center,” I continued. “Where the Top of the Rock offers a full three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view.”

“Ugh!” Cashmere said. “Three hundred sixty degrees? That sounds really hot! And sweaty! Who'd want to go there?”

Silence from the mathletes.

“I'm guessing geometry is not Cashmere's strongest subject,” Tess said quietly.

The double-decker bus was waiting for a light, to make a turn.

“Hey, did you know that goods that were worth twenty-four dollars—or a thousand dollars today—were
traded to acquire Manhattan from the Native American Lenape tribe?” Ox said.

Yay! Ox facts rocks! I mean rock. I mean, his trivia facts are always interesting.

“What a bargain!” my twin sister said.

Sure.
Now
she enjoys trivia. When it's someone else's.

“After the Revolutionary War,” Nima joined in, “the population exploded. From 1800 to 1900 it went from seventy-nine thousand to three million people! And now there are eight million New Yorkers in the city!”

“Of all cultures and personalities,” Hector added. “Which is why I want to live here when I grow up.”

“There's the Empire State Building!” yelled a lot of people. We all looked up. Whoa. Dizzying. I focused on more facts.

“Did you know that its high-speed elevators travel at up to one thousand feet per minute?” I announced. “And the world record for running up the 1,575 steps from the lobby to the eighty-sixth floor is nine minutes and thirty-three seconds!”

“Cool!” I heard people say. This was awesome! Finally my wealth of trivia was being appreciated!

“Emma.” Ox leaned closer to me. “Do you want to go to the homecoming dance with me?”

I froze. Suddenly my tongue was tied.

“Er—em—yeh. That would be—lovely.”

That would be lovely?
Huh? Was I in a British historical novel?

“I mean, yes!” I regained my composure and smiled at Ox. (Ox!) Ox smiled back. (Ox's smile! So cute!)

“Well, okay, so there's Madison Square Garden!” I went back to my tour-guide persona. “And we know what
that
means!”

“Professional basketball!” Ox cheered.

“Pro hockey!” Sam and Reilly shouted.

“The Westminster Dog Show!” the eighth-grade mathlete Ava squealed.

“Yay! Yes! Woohoo!” yelled all the sports fans and dog fans. Which was basically everyone
not
in the James family. And me. I had actually been thinking about Penn Station, which was underground beneath Madison Square Garden and served six-hundred thousand rail passengers each day.

“Attention, Geckos!” Coach Babbitt turned around in his seat in the front and hollered back. “The bus driver apologizes for his sound system not working. He is willing to bring us back, and we can ride a different bus if you all wish to hear the tour facts from the beginning.”

“No!” a whole chorus of kids yelled at once.

“Coach Babbitt, we like
this
bus tour!” Tess called.

“Keep this bus! Keep this bus!” people started chanting.

“I'll tell him everyone's happy,” Coach called, and turned back around.

“Thanks to Emma and her cool tour-guide facts,” Nick said loudly.

The people around me began a new chant. “Em-ma! Em-ma!”

I felt my face turn red. But it was a happy shade of red. Finally—
finally
—I was being appreciated for my passion for knowledge. And not in a competition, either. On a double-decker bus, in New York City, surrounded by my friends. And Payton's friends.

And Payton. Who was smiling at me. So I smiled back to make a mirror image.

Then I looked around and said, “You know what's made this tour—this whole trip—so great? It's all of you. All of us. Team Gecko!”

“Mmmble. Brooklyn
crackle
Bridge mmmble left,” the loudspeaker said. We all looked left.

“Did you know—” I started to say.

“Did you know—” Ox said at the very same time.

We stopped and looked at each other.

“That the total length of the Brooklyn Bridge is 5,989 feet from end to end . . . ,” I said, smiling.

“And it took sixteen years from conception to completion . . . ,” Ox said, smiling back.

“And it was finished in 1883 . . .” I poked him in the side with the foam finger. He grabbed it off my hand and started poking me back.

“In 1883 . . . ,” I repeated, squirming. It tickled so much, I couldn't finish my sentence.

“In 1883, the same year the Metropolitan Opera opened on Broadway,” Cashmere said.

Cashmere?
We all turned to stare at her.

“What?” Cashmere shrugged. “I like opera.”

“Did I hear someone mention the Met?” Mrs. Burkle squealed. “I remember seeing the most exquisite performance of
Madame Butterfly
there. Of course, now the Met is located uptown in the same complex as the American Ballet Theatre and the New York City Opera!”

And then she burst into song!

“ ‘Three little maids . . . ,' ” she trilled.

“ ‘From school are we!' ” Cashmere sang, joining in with her.

“Who is this?” Mrs. Burkle shrieked. “What a beautiful soprano voice! Why aren't you in the dramatics club?”

“Um . . . ,” Cashmere said. “Sydney says I have no star power?” Sydney sort of shrank down in her seat.

“Who is in charge of the dramatics club?” Mrs. Burkle yelled. “Me, Mrs. ‘recognizes talent when she sees it' Burkle! You, young lady, will be our star in the next musical!”

Little gagging noises were coming from Sydney's direction.

“This is hilarious,” my twin whispered to me.

“Could this tour get any better?” I whispered back. Then,
poke. Tickle.

“Ox, quit poking me.” I snatched the foam finger and bopped him over the head with it. But I was laughing, and so was he.

“You two,” Payton sighed, “are perfect for each other. But you are starting to get on my nerves.” She stole the foam finger out of my hands and rose out of her seat, almost standing.

She held the foam finger up high and yelled, “Go!”

But before anyone could yell “Geckos!” we heard a—

Thwap!

A big, leafy tree branch smacked my sister directly in the face.