Times Squared (3 page)

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Authors: Julia DeVillers

BOOK: Times Squared
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I was so excited, I started seat dancing too.

I did a (seated) moonwalk on the floor mats.

“Whatever we get to do, it will be awesome, because it's in New York City!” Payton said. “Well, except for your dancing. That's not so awesome anywhere.”

I was formulating an appropriately scathing remark when our mother interrupted our NYC fantasizing.

“Girls!” She turned around to look at us. “This all sounds interesting, but first tell me—why are your faces all banged up?”

“Oh yeah,” I said, remembering. “Minor collision.”

“Totally accidental,” Payton said. “Can we have some ice when we get home?”

“And a pain reliever?” I added. “I prefer ibuprofen, but acetaminophen will suffice. Payton, when we get home I want to do a search for the school where they're holding the competition. And find out the previous winners. And—”

“Maybe one of us will be discovered and become a Broadway sensation! As long as it's not Sydney. Gag.” Payton gagged.

“I'll have to prepare extra hard if I'm going to destroy Jazmine James and the rest of the mathletes of New York State! I wonder what that T-shirt and trophy will look like? Obviously, totally impressive,” I mused out loud.

“Excuse me?” our mother said. “Girls?”

“What?” we both said, still half in our NYC fantasy worlds.

“You've forgotten one little thing,” Mom said.

“What?” I repeated, looking at Payton. She shrugged.

“Your parents' permission,” our mother stated. “Your father and I will need to have all the information about this trip before we can make a decision.”

A decision? Did she mean they might say no?

I received a text. It read
We ARE going. Mills twins in NYC!

I texted back,
You and me! NYC!

It wasn't grammatically correct, but I was pretty certain Payton wouldn't notice.

“Emma? Payton?” Mom said, pulling the car into our driveway. “Stop texting behind my back.”

Ulp.

We quickly stuffed our cell phones into our bags and tried to look innocent. Innocent and mature and responsible enough to go to . . .

New York City!!!

E + P = NYC.

Now that's a formula even Payton would like.

Finally we were sitting down at the dinner table. Finally our parents were ready to
discuss
the trip to New York City.

“I checked my e-mail,” Dad said, “and I received information from your school along with permission slips. The school will provide transportation. We are responsible for paying for the hotel.”

Hotel?

“Hotel?” Payton looked as puzzled as I felt.

“It's an overnight trip,” said our father. “Properly chaperoned, of course.”

“Sleepover in New York City?” Payton squealed. “Squee! Eeeee! Yay!”

Payton sounded like her usual airhead self, but she also looked even more silly than usual. Our ice machine was broken. So my sister was holding a bag of frozen peas against her forehead.

I couldn't make fun of her, though. I had a bag of frozen corn niblets against mine.

“Mom, Dad,” I said. “May we
peas
go on the class trip to New York City?”

“That was
corny
,” Payton shot back.

“Okay, Veggie Twins,” our mother said, checking under our bags. “It looks like the swelling has gone down.”

Whew.
Emma and I put down our bags.

“You realize that next weekend is my annual medical-supply conference,” our father said.

“Oh!” our mother exclaimed. “I've got a speaking engagement at the science writers conference! The girls would have to go without us.”

“There will be other chaperones there,” I said.

“And we'll be just a phone call away,” my sister reminded them. “Thanks to your generousness of giving us our own cell phones.”

“Generosity,” I said, correcting her.

“Whatever,” Payton said. “The point is that we will be extra good.”

“And it
is
a wonderful opportunity for both of us,” I added. “May we go?”

Our parents looked at each other. Payton and I looked at each other. It didn't take twin telepathy to know we were both thinking,
Say yes!

“I'd say it's a yes,” our father said, looking at our mom.

“A double yes,” our mother said, looking at both of us. And smiling.

“Aaaaaah!” Payton and I screamed, and jumped up from the table.
“We're going to New York City!”

We danced and jumped around and screamed some more.

“Give me those peas.” Mom sighed and held the bag up to her head.

“It's going to be a long two weeks,” Dad said, reaching for the bag of corn.

Three

FRIDAY AFTER SCHOOL IN THE SCHOOL PARKING LOT

“Drama Geckos are in the spotlight!

“Drama Geckos will go far!”

Sydney was calling out a cheer for the Drama Club. We were all standing in front of the bus, waiting to board. It wasn't even a yellow school bus! It was one of those big travel buses with the dark tinted windows!

And it would take us to New! York! City! I was so cheery, I was even enjoying Sydney's cheer.

“Drama Geckos are in the spotlight!

“Drama Geckos are superstars!”

“Okay, now here are the motions we can do with
it,” Sydney said. “Split, jump, high V, turn, and finish off with a back handspring!”

Sydney flung herself backward and flipped over.

Uh, I think I'll stick to the yelling and clapping part. This would be an excellent time to start boarding the bus.

“Come on, guys,” Sydney said. “Do the motions.”

“Are you supposed to do that?” Tess asked her. “Be careful of your ankle.”

“Doctor says I'm healed,” Sydney said. “So come on.”

Tess copied Sydney's jump and arm move thing and threw a back handspring. I stood there.

“Payton, where's your Drama Gecko spirit?” Sydney yelled loudly. “Jump, high V, and back handspring!”

“Sydney, you know we can't all throw back handsprings,” I told her. “I can barely do a round-off.”

“Ohhh,” Sydney said, with a mock sad look. “That's really sad.”

She threw another back handspring and cheered loudly.


Go Drama Geckos!

Bleh.


Go Gecko mathletes!
” someone yelled back.

A crowd of mathletes were standing in a clump at the other end of the bus.

“Yeah! Gecko mathletes rule!” someone yelled. Oh, great. That was my sister, leading a new cheer.

“Trapezoid, octagon, dodecahedron!

“Bring your A-brains 'cause the competition is
on
!”

Emma's fist pumped above the crowd. Agh.

“Good thing your sister didn't try out for cheerleading either,” Sydney muttered to me.

“Oh, Emma would never want to be a cheerleader!” Tess said cheerfully. “When would she have the time? Mathletes, spelling bee. Science Olympiad. Payton, your sister is a true role model.”

That
was
true. And I was proud of her. But maybe not at this exact moment, as Emma added an awkward jump and clap.

“Keep trying, math people,” Reilly, one of the cutest boys in drama club, snorted. “Drama Geckos rule. Especially since
our
cheers make sense.”

We all watched the mathletes cheer. I had to stop Emma. I pulled out my cell phone to text her that.

Brrrzt!

My phone was vibrating. Oh, I had a text message from my mom waiting.

Remember both of your bags! Xoxo Mom

Yup, I'd remembered my bags. I had a little rolling suitcase that was bright green. I was carrying it very carefully because there was something very, very important in it.

My dress!

I was bringing a dress I'd been saving for a special occasion. It was the most beautiful dress I ever owned! It was a Summer Slave dress. This past summer, I'd gone to camp with a bunch of girls who were total fashionistas. One of them was a girl named Ashlynn. She had the coolest clothes, and she traded me some of them in exchange for doing her bunk chores.

To get this dress, she made me go to the canteen every day and wait in the long line to get her a frozen fruit bar. (Okay, that part wasn't so bad. But she also made me curtsy in front of the whole cabin when I gave it to her. Totally embarrassing, I know, I know!)

But the dress really was worth it.

I also had brought a tote bag with things for the bus:

iPod with my new mix

Lip gloss (apple flavored, for the Big Apple!)

Watermelon gum

Water bottle

Mostly I figured I'd be talking with people, though, like Tess! Tess had asked me if I wanted to sit with her on the bus. Definitely.

I was a little worried about Emma. The Drama Club was sitting at the front of the bus. The mathletes were sitting at the back of the bus. Usually on buses I sat with Emma. I hoped she had someone to sit with.

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