Top

Amazon no longer offers textbook rentals. We do!

Take Two

by: DeVillers, Julia; Roy, Jennifer

Take Two

by: DeVillers, Julia; Roy, Jennifer

ISBN 13:
9781416967316
ISBN 10:
1416967311
Edition: Reprint
Format: Paperback
Copyright: 12/21/2010
Publisher: Aladdin

New From $8.68

Sorry, this item is currently unavailable.

Free Shipping On Every Order

List Price $8.99 Save $0.31

New $8.68

This is a hard-to-find title. We are making every effort to obtain this item, but do not guarantee stock.

We Buy This Book Back!

Included with your book

Free Shipping On Every Order

Add to Cart

Note: Supplemental materials are not guaranteed with Rental or Used book purchases.

Extend or Purchase Your Rental at Any Time

Need to keep your rental past your due date? At any time before your due date you can extend or purchase your rental through your account.

Take Two > ISBN13: 9781416967316

Summary

TWIN SISTERS PAYTON and Emma have learned that "trading faces" can lead to "twin-dentical" chaos, and they've promised never to do it again. But just to be sure that they'vereallylearned their lesson, the school counselor has a punishment in store, and they're not going to be sitting through detention -- or hyperventilating through detention, in Emma's case. Instead, Emma's tutoring a math-hating eight-year-old boy who brings a creepy reptile to every lesson. Meanwhile, Payton has to keep an eye on his brother and help the drama club with their musical -- but she's not going to be onstage, she'll be under it! Oh! And the boys? They're identical twins too....When things start spinning out of control, will it take another twin switch to sort it out? And just how many switches are going on at once? In the end, it's good to have a twin who's got your back as well as your face!

Author Biography

Julia DeVillers is the author of How My Private, Personal Journal Became a Bestseller, which was adapted as a Disney Channel Original Movie. She is also the author of the Liberty Porter, First Daughter series and the coauthor of the Trading Faces series, written with her twin sister, Jennifer Roy.

Jennifer Roy is the author of the highly acclaimed Yellow Star, which won a Boston Globe-Horn Book Honor Award for Excellence in Children’s Literature and a Sydney Taylor Honor Award. It was a Jewish Book Awards Finalist, an ALA Notable Book, School Library Journal Best Book, and a NYPL Top Book for Reading and Sharing Books for the Teenager. She is also the author of Cordially Uninvited and Mindblind and the coauthor of the Trading Faces series, written with her twin sister, Julia DeVillers. Visit her at JenniferRoy.com.

Supplemental Materials

What is included with this book?

The New copy of this book will include any supplemental materials advertised. Please check the title of the book to determine if it should include any access cards, study guides, lab manuals, CDs, etc.

The Used, Rental and eBook copies of this book are not guaranteed to include any supplemental materials. Typically, only the book itself is included. This is true even if the title states it includes any access cards, study guides, lab manuals, CDs, etc.

Excerpts

Payton
One

MIDDLE SCHOOL AFTER LAST PERIOD

Cell phone! Oh, no, my cell phone was ringing!

I opened my tote bag and scrounged around in a panic. I felt my brush and mirror. My raspberry lip gloss. Ouch, sharp pencil.

And phew, my cell phone. I changed the ringer to vibrate. And not a moment too soon because the principal was walking toward us . . . toward us . . . and, whew. She walked right by us.

My phone went bzzzzt.

“Good job, Payton,” my twin sister, Emma, muttered. “Aren’t we in enough trouble without you breaking the no-cell-phones-on-during-school rule, too?”

Why yes. Yes, we were in enough trouble. Considering we were on our way to after-school detention.

“Plus, we are only allowed to use our cell phones for emergencies. We’re already grounded. We don’t need to get in any more trouble.” Emma went on and on and on . . .

I sighed as I walked down the hall. We passed a WELCOME, GECKOS! poster that was peeling off the wall. Someone had drawn a mustache and earrings on the gecko, the school mascot.

Only a little more than a week ago, I’d been so psyched to be at this new school. My own locker! New people! Cute guys! Different teachers! Switching classes!

But then, we had switched more than classes. We had switched places. And the whole identical twins trading places thing? Hadn’t worked out so well for us.

We passed two boys walking the other way. One turned around and laughed.

“Hey, look!” he said. “It’s those TV twins!”

They both laughed.

My face flamed red with embarrassment. The whole weekend I’d tried to prepare myself for that kind of comment. It had been a seriously long day.

“I wonder if they know who is who today,” his friend called out loudly, obviously so we could hear him.

“Who is whom,” Emma muttered as she walked next to me, lugging her ginormous backpack.

I rolled my eyes at her.

“What?” Emma said. “If they’re going to be insulting, they could at least be grammatically correct.”

And then she turned around to call to the boys.

“It’s whom! W-H-O-M!”

“Oh my gosh,” I said, grabbing her backpack strap and dragging her around the corner. “Shush!”

“But he was being inaccurate,” she protested. “And he was trying to make us look silly, but I showed him, didn’t I? Ha! Did you see the look of embarrassment on his face after I pointed out his error?”

Augh! He wasn’t embarrassed about his grammar, he was embarrassed for my sister. Emma was so entirely clueless sometimes.

“Just let it go,” I moaned. “Isn’t it bad enough that we’re known as the identical twins who switched places, fooled everyone until they were busted, and were filmed making complete idiots of themselves in front of the entire school last week?”

“‘Who’ is a subjective pronoun,” Emma muttered. “Duh.”

Sigh.

Even though last week was only our first week in our new school, we were already kind of famous. But not in a good way. Being called the “TV twins” sounded cool, until you knew the whole story. We hadn’t been on real TV, just the school video-cast shown live on a humongous screen at our first pep rally. When, unknown to us at the time, we were on camera arguing about Emma being a boring brainiac. And about me not doing so great at hanging out with popular people. Basically, in front of our entire school, we had a fight and called each other superficial, shallow, selfish, dumb and . . . Let’s just say we totally embarrassed ourselves.

“I wish we could start middle school over again,” I said. “We need a do-over.”

“Tell me about it,” Emma agreed. “I’m going to detention. Me! Emma ‘The Brain’ Mills! I’ve only stayed after for mathletes, a spelling bee, or to help the sixth-grade math teacher understand our honors homework. But detention?”

“It was your idea to switch places,” I reminded her.

“Because you needed me to help save your reputation after you embarrassed yourself in front of your so-called friends,” Emma shot back. “And look where that got us. Right into the principal’s office and detention and being grounded.”

Ugh. My sister was right. It seemed like a good idea at the time, switching places. Emma and I looked so much alike, we’d thought we could get away with it—and that it would be a minor break from our normal lives, which hadn’t been going so great.

“Detention! I think I’m going to hyperventilate. No, worse, I’m going to pass out,” Emma was muttering while unzipping her hoodie.

“Emma! Your sweatshirt!” I whispered, trying not to attract any more attention from people passing by.

“What? All this stress is making me hot,” Emma said, starting to pull off her sweatshirt.

“Emma, look at what you’re wearing,” I said, tilting my head toward her T-shirt so she’d get the picture. It said BEE THE BEST SPELLER IN SIXTH GRADE! It was bright yellow and had a freakish-looking bee wearing a crown on its head. She’d worn that thing all last year and it still made my eyes bleed.

With Emma’s newfound sort-of sense of style, I knew even she would be embarrassed by it. I smiled at the thought of Emma having even a small sense of style. Up until last week, Emma’s idea of style was to throw on sweats, tie her hair up in a ponytail, and wear a T-shirt from one of her gajillion competitions, advertising her brilliance. Even for the first day of school!

But I’d wanted to start the school year looking trendy and cool. So I’d spent the summer in camp doing chores for this girl, Ashlynn, who would pay me in her designer clothes. I called them my “Summer Slave clothes.”

The designer clothes had impressed this popular girl Sydney and given me temporary access to popularity. But very temporary, because then I’d totally embarrassed myself. Emma had stepped in to save me and we’d switched places. She helped me redeem myself with Sydney and her friends.

It worked for a couple days and then? Twin Fail.

But one good thing? Emma had discovered that looking comfortable and cute wasn’t such a bad thing. I waited as she opened her mouth to thank me for saving her from being seen in that T-shirt in public.

“Please tell me you’re not concerned with what I’m wearing right now or how I look?” Emma hissed at me.

Well, I was. Kind of. Her hair was really disastrous, since taking off the sweatshirt had caused a static attack. I reached into my tote bag and scrounged around. Mirror, lip gloss, ouch! Sharp pencil. Yeesh. And then there it was, my brush.

“That is the least of our problems right now,” Emma said. “I can’t believe you are even thinking about my appearance!”

I quickly dropped the brush back into the tote bag.

“Besides, this is the perfect shirt to wear,” Emma muttered. “It will remind Mrs. Case that I am the Spelling Bee Champion and not someone who gets in Big Trouble.”

Well, at least it would be harder to mix us up, with Emma’s static-head and goofy T-shirt. My hair was still looking good even after a bad day. My brownish blond, shiny hair was my best feature. Emma also had brownish blond hair, but it was a teeny bit less shiny than mine.

And I was pleased with my outfit today. I’d spent a lot of time choosing it. Since it was our first day back after our horrible humiliation, I wanted to make sure that when people pointed and stared at me at least I looked cute.

I was wearing:

A blue long-sleeved shirt
(Summer Slave clothes)
A lighter blue tank
(From when Emma had gone on a shopping spree for me)
Jeans
(Summer Slave)
Bracelet with the P on it
(Mine)
Sneakers
(Mine. I was done wearing Ashlynn’s too-big shoes with their too-high heels.)

I noticed my sneaker was untied. Oh, shoot. That’s all I would need, to embarrass myself by tripping over my shoelace. I bent down to tie it, and didn’t notice someone rounding the corner until a white sneaker practically kicked me in the head.

“Hey!” I yelped. And looked up into the face of Sydney.

“Oh, it’s just the twins,” Sydney said dismissively, looking down at me and then at Emma.

Ugh. It’s The Sydney. She was wearing a green-and-yellow Geckos cheerleading uniform and holding pom-poms that were at my eye level. She obviously noticed that, too, and shook them so they swatted me in the face. I stood up quickly and stepped back.

“I can’t believe you twins!” Following Sydney, as always, was her friend Cashmere. “You guys could have injured Sydney, and that would be a disaster. Sydney is going to cheerleading practice.”

Sydney was cheerleading? Since when?

“Didn’t you hear?” Cashmere asked after seeing the look on my face. “Sydney’s on cheer squad! Daphne Yee broke her ankle, and Serra Potter moved to California. Sydney was the second alternate! Everyone knows she should have made it in the first place.”

“Oh, Cashmere.” Sydney giggled and faked a modest smile. “Let’s go. Can’t be late for cheerleading practice!”

Sydney did a Rah! move with her arms. I could hear Cashmere’s voice as they sauntered down the hall. “Did you see Twin #2’s outfit? It was sooo cute. I so want those jeans.”

“Shut it, Cashmere,” Sydney growled, and they walked on down the hall.

“Ugh, I don’t appreciate being called Twin #2. Cashmere and Sydney obviously know my name is Payton,” I grumbled. Sydney and Cashmere had ignored me completely all day. Well, except for giggling and whispering about me.

“Of course they do, because they were your FBFs,” Emma said cheerfully.