'Of course there is! I made chocolate-chip cookies for you.'
'Yum,' Katie and Britney chorused, but Other-Amanda stamped her foot.
'Mom! You know I'm on a diet! Why did you have to go make cookies?'
'Amanda, darling, there's no need for you to be on a diet,' her mother protested as she followed them into the kitchen.
'Oh, what would
'Girls, would you like some milk with those cookies?' Amanda's mother asked, opening the refrigerator and taking out a carton.
'Mom! Could we have some privacy, puh-leeze?'
Amanda could see the annoyance on her mother's face, but the woman didn't say anything. She probably didn't want to embarrass her daughter by scolding her in front of her friends. That was the kind of thoughtful person she was.
As soon as her mother left, Other-Amanda said, 'Guys, did I tell you what I did to Tracey Devon in gym class? I told her I saw a bug crawling out of her hair!'
Britney and Katie burst out laughing. After what she'd heard her friends say in the restroom that day, Amanda-Tracey knew they were faking their enthusiasm for Amanda's meanness. They were such hypocrites! And she didn't want to listen to it anymore. She started for the door and then had another thought. She ran up the stairs to her very own room, went into the closet, and grabbed her favorite red ballerina flats. It wasn't really stealing, she told herself. After all, they were hers.
By the time she got back to Tracey's house, it was after six, and since she was still invisible, nobody could see that she was home. But her absence clearly wasn't having any effect on the household. In fact, there was an event going on-a reporter and a film crew were there. The Devon Seven were all wearing identical pink dresses. Tracey's mother had obviously been to the beauty salon, and even Tracey's father had come home early from work.
They were all gathered in the living room, and Amanda hovered in the corner to see what was going on. An attractive woman was standing in front of a camera and speaking.
'The impact of multiple births on a family is enormous, financially and emotionally. Mrs. Devon, what did the arrival of septuplets do to your life?'
Tracey's mother uttered a tinkling little laugh. 'Well, as you can imagine, our lifestyle certainly changed. George and I used to go out to dinner frequently and to the theater. We can't do that as often now.'
'We're going out tonight,' Mr. Devon added, 'for the first time since the girls were born.'
'Do you go out less now because of the expense?' the reporter asked.
Mrs. Devon looked insulted. 'No, we're quite fortunate in that sense. But it's very difficult to find a babysitter when there are seven children in the house.'
Mr. Devon interjected a comment. 'Of course, we don't mind giving up our social life. With seven daughters, it's a party in this house all the time!'
Eight
'Do you ever think about having another child?'
'Heavens no,' Mrs. Devon said. 'Seven is plenty!'
Now Amanda was fuming, and she couldn't keep quiet. 'Eight! You have eight kids!'
There was a shriek from a cameraman, and another man yelled, 'Cut! What happened?'
The cameraman's eyes were huge and he was pointing in Amanda's direction. 'That-that girl! She just popped up out of nowhere!'
So she was visible again. That was a relief. It wasn't a relief to the cameraman, though. His face was white and his hand was shaking as he pointed. 'I'm telling you. Look at the tape-she wasn't there a second ago.'
'Don't be ridiculous,' the other man said. 'You just didn't see her come in.' He peered at Amanda.
'Who are you, anyway?'
'I'm Tracey Devon. I'm the Devon Seven's older sister.'
The director seemed taken aback. 'Really?' To the reporter, he said, 'I didn't know there was an older sibling. Did you?'
The reporter turned to the Devon parents. 'I don't think you've ever mentioned another child.' Then, turning back to Amanda, she said 'What did you say your name is, dear?'
'Tracey.' Amanda glared at Tracey's parents. 'Remember me?'
Mr. Devon seemed somewhat befuddled. 'Of course, don't be silly…'
Mrs. Devon broke in. 'We thought you'd be interested only in the septuplets. Tracey is our firstborn; she's twelve.'
'Would you like to be interviewed, Tracey?' the reporter asked. 'I'd like to know how having seven identical siblings has affected your life.'
'No, I don't want to be interviewed,' Amanda said. If she'd been at her own home, her mother or father would have corrected her: 'No,
The Devon Seven were staring at her, too. They were probably amazed to hear her speaking, or to hear other people speaking to
Throwing herself on Tracey's bed, she contemplated her situation-
But what really bugged Amanda was the fact that Tracey didn't do anything about it. She just let them ignore her and went along with it by disappearing.
Then Amanda sat up. Maybe it was Tracey's own fault that her life was crummy. Well, if Amanda was going to have to live as Tracey for a while longer, there was no way she'd follow in Tracey's footsteps.
A little voice inside her asked,
Amanda remained on the bed, thinking about how to go about doing that. After a while she heard the film people leave, and she came out of her room. She still wasn't sure what her first move would be, but she had to do something.
The seven little girls were now bouncing around and making a lot of noise. Mr. Devon was trying to hush them as Mrs. Devon went to answer the ringing telephone in the kitchen. From the bottom of the stairs, Amanda watched as Mr. Devon made futile efforts to get the kids under control.
'Kandie, stop jumping-you're giving me a headache.'
'I'm not Kandie-I'm Mandie!' the child declared.
Mrs. Devon emerged from the kitchen with a stricken look on her face. 'That was Lizzie. She can't babysit.'
'What?' Mr. Devon yelled. 'But we're meeting my boss and his wife. We can't cancel now!'
'Well, what do you want me to do?' Mrs. Devon shrieked back.