Take Two (18 page)

Oh.

“Boys!” Emma tried again. “We
have
to get back to our seats.”

“No way, I have to find Nick,” Mason said. “I want to see if he can use my fart noise in the show!”

“He meant
after
the play, perhaps next week,” Emma said. “Not
tonight!
”

And that's when I saw it. Peeking out of Mason's sleeve was the gecko. I looked over at Emma. She didn't notice it. I had to get her out of there.

“Mason.” I leaned over to him. “You've got to put the gecko—”

“Dude!” Mason interrupted. “What is
that?
That is COOL!”

Mason was pointing to the giant Glinda-bubble. And then he was running over to it!

“Mason!” Emma yelled to him, chasing after him. “Do not touch that!”

Then we all ran after Mason, who suddenly stopped when he got to the ball and looked daze. He was gazing up at someone.

“You're pretty,” he said.

Ugh. It was Sydney.

“Yes,” she said. “I know.”

“Come on,” Emma urged him. “We have to get out of here.”

“Oh, ew,” Sydney said. “It's the Wonder Twins. As in, I wonder why the twins are backstage?”

“I'm not backstage,” Emma said, gritting her teeth. “Boys, we have to leave.”

“Yup, let's go somewhere else,” I agreed. “Sydney, good luck!”

“You're supposed to say, ‘Break a leg,'” she said. “But since you're not an actor, I guess you wouldn't know that. Saying ‘Good luck' actually means bad luck.”

“Actually, that's why I said it,” I retorted.

I'd actually wanted to tell her to break a leg . . . and an arm . . . and her nose. But I stopped myself. I should not stoop to Sydney's level. Or, actually, rise to her level. Hmm. Sydney was looking seriously tall. Much, much higher up than usual. She was wearing a leotard thing, tights, and really high sparkly heels.

Mrs. Burkle suddenly appeared. “Sydney! Why aren't you dressed? Payton, help Sydney get dressed.”

Sydney and I both looked at each other, and found a moment of solidarity.

“It's okay!” Sydney and I both said at the same time.

“I don't need help,” Sydney said.

“Obviously you do, since you're not wearing your gown. Payton. Help. Sydney. Get. Dressed,” Mrs. Burkle commanded again.

Ugh.

“Fine. Hold my gown for a second, while I fix the strap on my shoe,” Sydney said. “Aren't my shoes to die for? You recognize the label, right? Or, wait, was that your sister who was fashionable. I always get you two confused.”

Grrr. I took Sydney's gown and didn't say a word.

“Hey, Sydney.” Nick came over. “You need to take a practice run in your bubble. Don't forget to take off those shoes.”

“I'm not taking off my shoes,” Sydney said. “I just put these on! Hello, designer shoes? In pink sparkly? They match my Glinda gown perfectly.”

“They're heels,” Nick said, patiently.

“I know, but ew, the costume had ugly slipper things.” Sydney waved him off. “I'm not wearing those. I mean, look at the sparkles on these shoes! Aren't they amazing?!”

“Sure,” Nick said. “But not for the bubble. You won't be able to walk in those things in the bubble.”

“Yes, I will,” Sydney said. “I'm an expert in heels.”

Sydney went over to the bubble and jumped in.

“Wait!” Nick called to her.

But Sydney started walking around in the ball.

“Cool! She's like a giant hamster,” Mason marveled. “A giant, beautiful hamster princess.”

“I estimate that ball's circumference is at least one hundred times the size of her head,” Jason marveled.

And Sydney has a very big head, I thought. With her ego.

“She
can
walk in heels,” I admitted. That was impressive. The few times I'd tried to walk in heels, I'd wobbled and tipped over. But Sydney was walking fine, even in a giant plastic ball.

“Oops!” Sydney said as the ball bounced off one of the Munchkins.

“Excuse me!” Sydney called out. But, wait, the ball was rolling backward. And then—
bounce!
It bounced off one of the trees.

“Sydney!” Nick waved frantically. “Sit down! Don't walk!”

“I got it!” Sydney scoffed. She walked again and the ball rolled. Sydney tipped a little.

“Does she have control of that thing?” Emma asked as Sydney wobbled around backstage. “I think her equalizing angles are off.”

“No duh,” Jason agreed. “She needs to maintain acute angles of motion or she's going to roll off the stage.”

“Oh, no! The Hamster Princess needs saving!” Mason said. “I'll rescue her! I'll be her superhero!” Mason ran over and threw his arms around the ball and stopped it.

“I'm fine, you rugrat!” Sydney said, all snotty.

Mason looked a little hurt. I felt sorry for him for a moment.

“Let go of my bubble!” Sydney said to him, and kicked at the ball where Mason was, just as he let go. And then it started rolling again. Sydney suddenly looked freaked. The ball started veering toward the curtain at the front of the stage! Oh, no! She was going to roll through the curtain and off the stage!

She tried to regain her balance and then—
boom!
She fell over!

“Oh, good,” Jason said. “She sat down, so her center of gravity stopped the ball!”

Except Sydney didn't look very happy. She was clutching her shoe.

“My ankle!” she wailed. “I hurt my ankle!”

We all rushed over to her.

“Oh, my!” Mrs. Burkle said. “Is there an injury? We must get that checked by a medical professional! Sydney's understudy must take her place!”

Sydney stopped wailing.

“I'm okay!” she said. “I can go on!”

She stood up. And then fell over.

“Sydney's ankle is swollen,” Jason said, leaning over to inspect it. “Could be a sprain or strain.”

“Somebody fetch Sydney's parents,” Mrs. Burkle said. “They must take her to the hospital to get it checked.”

“No! I can still do it!” Sydney said.

But when she stood up, she couldn't put any weight on her foot.

“Sorry, school policy,” Burkle said. Nick raced out as Cashmere rushed in.

“Oh, no,” Cashmere said. “I heard you screaming and came to see what happened. Now you can't play Glinda! And don't you have a big game to cheer at tomorrow?”

“I'll let the coach know you have to miss that, too,” Burkle said.

“Agh! Shush, Cashmere!” Sydney wailed some more.

“Who's the understudy for Glinda?” Mrs. Burkle asked. “Oh, goodness, it's Zahra.”

Zahra was already covering for the Mayor of the Lollipop Kids, who had gotten the flu.

“We have no Glinda!” Mrs. Burkle cried. “Oh, goodness!”

“Payton knows the lines!” Emma volunteered.

“Shhh.” I hissed and elbowed her.

“Is this true?” Burkle peered at me. “Do you know the lines?”

Um. Yeah. I did. I nodded.

“Then, quickly! Put on Glinda's dress! I will let the cast know!” Burkle said. “Payton is the New Sydney!”

“What?” Sydney shrieked. “Payton is not the New Sydney! Payton is the New Poopy!”

“Payton is in!” Burkle announced emphatically. “Sydney is out!”

“I can do it! I can—” I heard Sydney wailing as her parents carried her away.

Oh my gosh. Ohmygoshohmygosh.

“Payton,” Mrs. Burkle said. “This will look good on your school service record. Payton steps up as needed! But, oh, dear,
why is our Tin Man's body on backward? I am needed elsewhere!”

“What are you thinking?” I hissed at Emma. “I'm not prepared! I can't do this!”

“You
can
do it,” Emma said firmly.

This was too overwhelming. I couldn't just go up there onstage with practically no warning and totally no practice!

“Just put on the dress,” Emma said, holding out the pink Glinda dress to me.

“I can't,” I said, backing away. “I'm not prepared! I'm panicking!”

“It's just stage fright,” Emma said. “Breathe deeply. Don't panic.”

Then suddenly the Glinda-ball rolled past us. Mason and Jason were playing soccer with the Glinda-ball.

“Boys!” Emma called out. “Don't mess with that ball!”

And then Emma gasped. And pointed. The gecko was peeking out of Mason's sleeve.

“Emma!” I said. “Breathe deeply! Don't panic!”

“Geckophobia,” Emma croaked. She stood there frozen, her eyes wide. She was panicking. And then the gecko took a flying leap.

“Oh, no!” Mason cried. “Mascot!”

The gecko leaped onto the rubber Glinda-bubble and bounced off! It landed on the floor! And ran and then . . . disappeared.

“Where did he go?” Mason cried louder. “Mascot!”

“Under the stage,” Jason said, leaning over. “There appears to be a crack leading under the stage.”

The stage basement room!

“Save him!” Mason was now hysterically crying.

I looked at Mason. I knew what I had to do.

“I'm going in,” I announced. Emma stood frozen, in fear of the gecko on the loose. “I know the stage basement. I'll go down really fast and be back before you know it.”

I hung the Glinda dress on Emma's shoulder.

“I'll be right back,” I said.

“Go, Gecko,” Emma said weakly.

Emma

Twenty-two

STILL BACKSTAGE BEFORE THE PLAY

I was holding a sparkling pink pouf of a dress while trying to calm the terror twins.

“Jason, Mason,” I said quietly but firmly. “Don't call any attention to us. Just wait patiently and Payton will be right back.”

“Wait Payton-ly?” Jason joked.

“Shut up, Jay,” Mason said. His voice sounded strange. Was he about to cry? “Mascot never runs away! What if she can't find him? What if he hides for two years like that gecko in the library?”

“It'll be okay, Mason,” I said. Sheesh, my hand was getting tired. This dress was heavy. “Payton will get him. She's braver than I am.”

“I have an irrational fear of small reptiles. She doesn't.”

“Mason has an irrational fear of the dark,” Jason said.

“Oh, yeah?” Mason frowned. “You're afraid of bugs! And thunderstorms. And . . . girls!”

“Boys!” I broke in. I had to shut them up. “Um . . . I am the Good Witch Glinda and I-er-banish all fears from you.”

I spotted Glinda's/Sydney's star-shaped wand on a table. I grabbed it. Then I tapped the twins lightly on their heads. They both giggled. I was getting pretty good at this kid thing.

“Payton!” Mrs. Burkle's voice boomed.

Oh, good. Payton is back!

I looked around. Where was my twin? I didn't see her.

“Payton!” Mrs. Burkle said again. Closer. To me.

I froze.

“Payton, why aren't you dressed?” Mrs. Burkle shrieked. “We need you ready right now!”

Uh. I couldn't figure out how to explain that my sister was under the stage rescuing a gecko that Mason should not have brought in the first place. Mason would get in trouble or Payton would or the play wouldn't start or . . .

“Okay,” I choked out. I took the dress off the hanger and gave the boys a look that said,
Keep your mouths shut, please?
I put the glittery pouf over my head and slipped the dress on over my clothes. Whew. It fit over my new
MATHLETES ROCK
! tee, my jeans, and just barely hit the ground covering my sneakers.

Oh, yeah. This hemline was so much better than with Sydney's high heels. And the style was more suited to flats. Those heels took away from the gown. Less can be more.

“Payton!” Mrs. Burkle said. “Don't forget your wand!”

“Thank you,” I said and grabbed the sparkly star-shaped wand. “You can go back to the other people now.” I waved the wand in the direction of the real backstage, where all the action was going on before the curtain went up.

I was only wearing this costume temporarily, because Payton was going to be back any second. And when she got here, Mrs. Burkle couldn't still be here.

I had to text my sister to hurry up. I reached into my jeans pocket—Oh! The dress! I fumbled around and—yes—I found an opening near my side where the skirt wrapped around in layers. I could feel my jeans! I could feel my cell phone.

Why was Mrs. Burkle still standing here?

“Payton, we don't have time to dally,” my English teacher/Payton's drama coach said. “Come with me NOW.”

“Boys, wait here,” I hissed. “I'll be right back.”

As I reluctantly followed Mrs. Burkle, I heard Jason say, “I knew it! She's pretending to be Payton again! They're switching places like they did in the library.”

Great. Can't fool a genius twin. I should know. I'd have to swear them to secrecy later for the greater good of all of us. . . .

Wait a minute! Two boys were rolling the gigantic bubble over to me.

“Glinda,” Mrs. Burkle said. “Get in.”

Get in the bubble? No way. This was going too far.

“Glinda,” Mrs. Burkle said, her voice tight. “I have to
supervise you for safety purposes before I can get back to the other actors. Now, please get in.”

I climbed in. Whoa. Weird. I waved to Mrs. Burkle, who, thankfully, ran backstage. I was stuck in a midway point—an area that was away from the actors and scenery. I knew this, because I could hear muffled, panicky voices—Tess? That Reilly guy Payton had a crush on?—but I couldn't see anyone.

Boy this bubble was foggy. And warm. Where the heck was Payton??? I reached again for my cell, pulled it out, and texted my twin.

And waited.

After an eternity—okay two minutes and three seconds—Payton texted back.