Trading Faces by Julia DeVillers Page B

“Clothes, a smelly burrito . . .”
    BRRRZPP!
    Saved!
    â€œMy cell! I have to take this,” I said.
    â€œIs that your twin sister texting you again ?” Sydney said. “Hey, I have a great idea. We can bring your sister to the mall too. You can buy her some new clothes.”
    â€œYou know what, she’s not really into clothes,” I said.
    â€œDuh, obviously,” Sydney said. “Let me see your phone.”
    She talked as she texted: “Emma. Don’t text me again until you’ve had a makeover.”
    â€œYou’re not really typing that, are you?” I said.
    Sydney ignored me.
    â€œYou are ruining my image with your hideous clothes,” she said out loud as she typed. “And brush your hair.”
    â€œOkay, wait,” I said. “You’re not really texting that to my sister, are you?”
    I mean, okay, Emma might not be into clothes. But I didn’t want to crush her feelings or anything.
    â€œPayton,” Sydney said, smiling at me. “It’s just a joke. Chill.”
    â€œOh.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought you were seriously sending that text.”
    â€œI’m just trying to do you a favor,” Sydney said. “You know as well as I do that your sister’s embarrassing.”
    â€œSYDNEY! STOP!” I said. Loudly. Too loudly. People from other tables turned around and looked at us.
    Uh.
    â€œPayton, ohmigosh. Now you’re embarrassing us ,” Sydney said.
    She slid my phone back to me across the table.
    â€œI was only trying to do you a favor,” Sydney said. “But I don’t appreciate being yelled at.”
    Uh. Oh.
    I took my phone and looked at everyone. Quinn and Priya were looking down at the table. Cashmere was looking at . . . my lunch tray?
    â€œEwwww!” Cashmere shrieked, pointing. “Payton’s burrito is oozing all over!”
    I looked down. Oh. Ew.
    I saw Sydney looking at me in disgust. I needed to get out of there.
    â€œI think I’ll just throw this in the garbage,” I stammered, and picked up my tray. And that’s when I felt it. I forgot I was wearing Summer Slave platform heel shoes. I wobbled. And I fell forward, and—
    â€œPayton! Look out!” Quinn screamed.
    My lunch tray was sliding out of my hands! I watched in horror as my oozy burrito slid farther and farther toward . . .
    Sydney! Noooo!!! My oozy burrito was sliding toward Sydney! Quinn and Cashmere were looking at me like, ACK!
    I had only a second to act. I regained my balance and yanked the lunch tray back and—
    Whew! The burrito slid back, away from Sydney! Whew! I steadied myself on my shoes.
    Except that the burrito slid the other direction and flew over my head and behind me.
    â€œWhat the—?!!” I heard someone yell.
    I turned around and saw the guy called Ox jumping up. With a big brown splotch on his shirt.
    â€œEwww!” Cashmere said. “Gross!”
    Everyone was looking at me. Well, they were looking at Ox, who was pointing at me, so then they were looking at me.
    â€œI—uh,” I stammered. “I gotta go.”
    I grabbed my tote bag. And was out of there.

Twelve
    PE, FRIDAY
    BRRRZPP! BRRRZPP!
    My cell phone would not stop buzzing. I ignored it and watched everyone else in my class whack the volleyball across the net. The gym, like everything in this school, was humongous. There were about six different PE classes going on at the same time.
    â€œTemporary carpalmyalgia,” I had told my PE teacher. “That’s pain in the hands and wrists.” Mr. Gregory looked at me for a minute, then told me to sit on the bleachers.
    Hee.
    Knowing the Latin derivatives of words really helpedmake up great excuses. I mean, PE? When would I ever need those skills in my future career?
    BRRRZPP! BRRRZPP!
    Plus, I am a klutz.
    BRRRZPP! BRRRZPP!
    I ignored my cell. The last two times I had checked my text