Trading Faces by Julia DeVillers Read Free Book Online

girl. “It doesn’t matter. They’re like the same person anyway.”
    Hello? We can hear you.
    And we are definitely two Different—with a capital D —people, thank you very much.
    Clang! The warning bell went off!
    Two different people heading to two different classrooms!
    â€œHere’s my study hall,” I said to Emma. “So . . . bye!”
    I waved to Emma and went in to look for a promising seat. I found one almost all the way in the back off to the right and made myself comfortable.

Six
    FIRST PERIOD
    Clang! The warning bell went off.
    Oh, no! Don’t freak out, don’t freak out, I told myself.
    I freaked out.
    I barely heard Payton call bye to me as she went into her classroom. I wasn’t so lucky—my science class was on the other side of the building. Racing down the halls, weaving in and out of crowds, I got to room 113 just as three bells went off. Whew! I made it. I was out of breath, but at least science would calm me down. Once I found my seat, that is.
    I scanned the front row. My usual favorite seat, front row center, was already taken. In it was that Jazmine personI’d recognized at registration. I’d seen her outside of school at gifted enrichment programs, but I’d never talked to her. I’ll bet she’ll be happy to know that at least one person in her class (moi!) can have fun scientific discussions at an advanced level. She’ll probably want to be lab partners with me .
    I kept looking for a seat. There was Ahmad the robotics whiz. Another great potential partner. Looking . . . searching . . . the front desks were full. So were the ones in the second, third, fourth, and fifth rows . . . I stood there in the front of the room for an eternity until I saw it. An empty seat—in the back of the room. I walked to the back row and sat down. I’d never sat in a back row in my life.
    I didn’t like it.
    I raised my hand and held it up. And up. And up. I realized the teacher couldn’t see me behind all these people.
    â€œExcuse me . . . um . . . Ms. Perkins?” I called out.
    A small gray-haired woman stood behind a large teacher’s desk. She turned and wrote on the board:
    Dr. Perkins
    â€œThat’s Doctor. Not Miss. Nor Mrs. And not Ms.,” she said, glaring in my direction. Then she pointed at me. “You in the back, Miss . . .”
    â€œEmma,” I said meekly. I cleared my throat. “Emma Mills.” I said that louder. There, that was more confident.
    Soon Dr. Perkins would know the real me. Super Science Student.
    â€œYes, Miss Emma?” the teacher said.
    â€œI’d really prefer a seat in the front,” I said.
    â€œDo you have vision problems?” Dr. Perkins asked.
    â€œNo, but . . .”
    â€œLearning issues? Behavioral issues? A phobia of Albert Einstein?”
    I followed her gaze and saw a large poster of Einstein behind me.
    â€œAn important lesson in science, Miss Mills,” said Dr. Perkins, “is that sometimes there are variables you cannot control. In other words: Live with it.”
    Errgh. I slumped down in my seat. “Before we enter the wonderful world of science,” Dr. Perkins said, “I’d like to congratulate one of our very own students for winning the state science fair. Jazmine James, would you please tell us about your award-winning project?”
    â€œOf course,” said Jazmine James from the front row center seat. My seat. Jazmine stood up and turned to face the rest of the class. I tried not to be too obvious as I checked out the competition.
    â€œMy project,” Jazmine said, “was titled Reducing our Environmental Footprint with Higher-Efficiency Enzyme Catalysts in Industrial Cleaning Compounds. ”
    Some boy let out a loud yawn. Jazmine glared in his direction and kept talking about her experiment.
    Fine. So she was definitely up there in