Trading Faces (18 page)

“Um, well, I just picked stuff that would highlight Cashmere's best features,” I said. (And hide her flaws. I did not say that.)

“You so did it, Payton,” said Sydney. “Now Cashmere
has her own look and won't need to borrow
my
clothes. Kidding!”

Yes! I so did it! Now, for the next round of the fashion bee . . .

“My turn!” Quinn ran into the cubicle to change into the outfit I'd picked for her.

“I simply pulled together pieces like ones she already had, with just a few edgier ones to update the look,” I informed Sydney and Cashmere while we were waiting.

They stared at me. Whoops! I sounded like Emma when I said that! I'd better cover up.

“Um . . . like . . . when I go into my fashion forecasting . . . um . . . mode, I, like, get totally intense, you know?” I said. And forced out a giggle.

“Fashion
is
serious business.” Sydney nodded.

Whew.

“Eeeee!” Quinn came out of the dressing room. “I looooove it!”

“I do too,” Cashmere piped up. “And Quinn, you can wear it with the shoes you have, which is like thank goodness because”—she paused and looked at me—“Quinn's allowance is not all that. It's such a downer on our shopping trips.”

I noticed Quinn's face fall for a second. Then she came over to me.

“Thanks, Payton.” She smiled.

“Now get in there, Payton, and show us what you got,” Sydney commanded.

I went into the cubicle and put on the outfit I'd picked out for myself. I came out and climbed up on the platform. Whoa . . . my moment in the glaring fluorescent lights. I saw five Paytons in the lit-up mirrors and felt a little dizzy.

And then I heard it.

The oohs. And ahhhs. The compliments. It was like a replay of the applause at the spelling bee, except this time my accomplishment was very different.

I know, I know. This was silly and superficial. But it was the first time since the start of middle school that people were actually paying attention to me.

“You are a genius,” Sydney proclaimed.

A genius!

I posed in front of the mirrors and couldn't help smiling.
Oh. Yeah. I'm a supastar! The Number One Shopping Mall Champion! The Queen of the Fashion Bee!

Take that, Jazmine James!

“I'll take it all,” I told the salesperson a few minutes
later. We were all at the checkout. I took out my parents' credit card, which was to be used only in an emergency. Well, wasn't Payton always calling me a fashion emergency? I'd pay my parents back, of course. This would put a dent in my college savings fund, but I was on such a happy buzz I didn't care.

“There's a fifteen percent discount off all totals over a hundred dollars,” the salesperson told me.

I calculated the savings in my head.

“That's nineteen dollars,” I said automatically. Big oops. I looked around and saw Sydney and Cashmere walking away, loaded down with store bags. Pheee-ew. They hadn't heard me. But Quinn had.

“Payton,” Quinn said to me. “You're like two different people sometimes.”

Er. Um.

“Payton! Q! Come on!” Sydney called to us.

I took my pink and lime-green bags and followed Quinn out of the store. We joined Sydney and Cashmere.

Who were talking to some boys. And one of them was Ox.

“We're all going to the food court before my mom picks us up,” Sydney announced, indicating the boys, too.

Suddenly my bags felt very heavy, and my legs felt wobbly.

“I got these,” Ox said, taking my bags.

“What a gentleman,” Sydney cooed to him. She shoved her bags at him too.

“Logan, carry my bags?” Cashmere said in a baby voice to some guy.

“No way—those bags are pink,” he said. “You bought it, you carry it.”

Cashmere's face turned as pink as her bags.

“Here.” Ox took hers, too. “It's a good workout.”

He held up the bags like he was lifting weights. I couldn't help but notice how his arm muscles looked strong and—

Okay.

Ox and I were walking side by side. I had no clue what to say.

“So, you like football?” I blurted out. Um. Duh-umb.

“It's cool,” Ox said. “It's not what I'm planning to do for the rest of my life, but it's cool.”

Wait. I thought jocks only wanted to talk about jock things. Like, “Football rules! Tackle and injure! Maim and bruise!”

“Oh,” I said, brilliantly.

“Yeah, I'd really like to work for a wildlife organization and help protect animal habitats,” Ox said. He sounded a little . . . shy? Could a popular football player be shy? It made me feel a little braver.

“You're really into animals, then,” I said.

“Yeah, ever since my parents got me this animal encyclopedia for kids,” Ox said, shifting the shopping bags around.

“Hey, I had that book too!” I exclaimed.

We walked to the food court in a group.

“Uh, thanks for holding my bags,” I said, shyly.

“Remember, an ox is hardworking,” he said.

“I know! Because an ox can carry heavy loads for long distances!” I said to him happily.

He smiled at me!

He had a nice smile. For a big jock person, I mean. Anyway.

So. I had about twenty minutes before Sydney's mother came. Twenty minutes to:

1. keep Sydney happy with me—I mean Payton.

2. make sure Payton was part of their group for when we switched back tomorrow.

3. spend a few remaining minutes with Ox before I had to change back into Emma.

And never talk to him again.

We were all in line at SuperSalads. The girls, I mean. The boys were off in the pizza line.

“One smoothie,” I ordered, when it was my turn. Just like Sydney. And Cashmere. And Quinn.

We sat down at a round table. And . . .

Ox sat down next to me! He sat down next to me! Okay! Okay! He turned to talk to someone on his other side. I reached into Payton's tote and checked my teeth in the purse mirror. Clear. Okay.

But I also noticed Sydney looking at Ox. And looking at me. I realized there was an empty seat on her other side, and Ox had chosen the seat next to me.

“The salesperson said that Sydney looks like a model in her new outfit,” I said, really loudly.

“She totally does.” Cashmere's head bobbed up and down.

“You guys!” Sydney giggled. Yay. Happy Sydney = Happy Payton.

“You girls sure like to buy stuff,” Ox said to me, eating his pizza slice.

“I know,” I said.

“Girls and their stuff,” he said, shaking his head like
What's that all about?

“Maybe it's to cover up their insecurities,” I said, thoughtfully. “Or for others, maybe it's just getting to be creative in a socially acceptable way. It
is
fascinating.”

OMG.

Me and my (Emma's) big mouth.
That was so not something Payton would or should say! Now Ox is going to think I'm some geek or freak or . . .

“Hey, Payton,” Ox said.

“Um, yeah?” I asked him.

“I'm glad you came to the mall,” Ox said. He smiled right at me.

Squee!!!

MONDAY, BACK HOME

“Thanks for the ride!” I called out to Nick's mom, as her minivan pulled out of my driveway.

I waved good-bye until the car pulled out of sight. Then I took off. I raced around to the back of the house as Emma's text message had instructed me to do.

“Payton?” my mom called out. “Emma? Is that you?”

Oh, my gosh.

“Hurry!” Emma's head stuck out from behind the garden shed. She waved me over frantically.

I jumped behind the tallest bush and quickly pulled off Emma's sweatshirt and sweatpants. I tossed them to her as she tossed me my (Summer Slave) hoodie and
miniskirt and I pulled them on. Emma shoved my tote bag and some shopping bags at me and grabbed her own backpack.

Ouch! I got some pricker in my butt. Getting changed in the bushes of the backyard was not exactly my top choice, but it was too risky to try to get past Mom again.

“Wait!” Emma said. “Bracelets!”

I took off the
E
cuff and traded for the
P
.

“Okay, let's go!” I said. We ran around to the front of the house. And casually walked in the front door.

“Hi, Mom!” I said, cheerfully, although slightly out of breath.

“Hi, Mom!” Emma said, giving her a hug.

“How was your day, girls?” Mom asked. “Emma, how was your after-school club?”

Emma looked at me, questioning. I nodded and smiled.

“Superb!” she said.

“And how was the mall, Payton?” Mom asked me.

Emma gave me a thumbs-up behind Mom's back.

“Awesome!” I said.

“Mom, I have a ton of homework,” Emma said. “So I'm going to get started.”

“Me too,” I said.

“Payton, I'm so pleased to see you focusing on your schoolwork,” my mom said.

“Um, Emma's been a good influence on me,” I said.

“Oh, no,” Emma said modestly. “Payton's really become quite the student in middle school.”

“And Emma,” my mom exclaimed, “your hair is out of a ponytail! It looks nice!”

Oops, Emma had left her hair Paytonish.

“Payton's been a good influence on me, too,” Emma said.

“Oh, you two! Give me a hug,” Mom said, getting all emotional. “People always warn me that twins bicker and fight, but I tell them ‘You should see my twins! They're always there for each other!' ”

“Aw, that's so sweet,” I said, giving my mom a hug. Then I raised my eyebrow at Emma like
Let's get out of here!

“Homework time!” Emma said. And she linked arms with me and half dragged me up the stairs and into our room.

I pushed a pile of stuff off my bed and sat down on it. Emma sat down on her bed too.

“Okay, what happened? WHAT HAPPENED?” I squealed. “Where
were
you?”

“Me?” Emma shot back. “Where were
you
?”

“Well, I went to the school VOGS meeting!” I said.

“Oh, that's good! I wanted to join the Videocast of Gecko Students,” Emma said. “Good work, Payton.”

“Thank you!” I said, pleased. “And guess what? I volunteered you for the very first VOGS group!”

“I'm impressed,” Emma said. “Did you carefully get my writing assignment?”

“Even better,” I said, excitedly. “
You
are going to be a VOGS anchorwoman!”

“You mean anchor
person,
” Emma corrected me. “Wait a minute. What are you talking about?”

“You're an anchorperson!” I told her. “Only four people got picked and I—I mean
you
—are one of them! Jazmine James is too, and you should have seen her face when they announced your name. It was classic! You get to write your own story! You love writing! And then, you get to read it on air! On the school news!”

“Are you kidding?” Emma asked.

“I know, isn't it awesome?” I bounced on her bed with excitement. “You know how you said you wanted to stop being invisible in middle school? Now everyone will know you! You will be the face of the video news!”

I sat back on my bed and waited for her to thank me and tell me that I was the best twin ever!

“Payton! How could you do that to me?” Emma wailed.

That didn't sound like a thank-you.

“Um,” I said. “I thought you'd want to?”

“You know me and videos! I'll choke! I'll panic! I'll look like an idiot! People will think I'm stupid!” Emma wailed.

Oh. Uh-oh. That's right. Emma could stand up in front of a lot of people in her bees, but she hated to be on video. She never even let my parents film her competitions in case she looked stupid, she said.

“Um,” I said. “I thought it would be cool. I, um, did a practice round, and it was kind of fun.”

We'd done a fake broadcast. I'd done a pretend news story where I talked about how gross the school lunches were—like, say, the oozy burritos. Hee. And I discussed the need for better nutrition and healthy, good-tasting options. People clapped for me and everything.

“Well,” Emma said with a sigh, “I'll just have to tell Mrs. Burkle tomorrow to choose somebody else.”

“Uh,” I said. “Actually, you go to rehearsal tomorrow. You're going to be an anchor.”

“Tomorrow? Absolutely not,” Emma said. “Now I have to e-mail Mrs. Burkle and ask her to pick someone else. I can't believe you did that.”

“Um . . . and there's also a pep rally instead of ninth period tomorrow,” I told her. “Where the whole school goes to an assembly and watches . . . a live broadcast of VOGS.”

“Wait—WHAT???” Emma started pretty much freaking out. “No! It's not possible! I've got to contact Mrs. Burkle!”