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"Doing a makeover would be lots of fun," Samantha said. "Chelsea's really good at picking out clothes."

Molly and Polly glanced at each other again. It made me wonder if all those stories about twins and telepathy were true because I could almost see the communication passing between them. Polly teetered on the edge of indecision, but Molly stood firm. She said, "It won't make a difference, and if we let them start changing things now, they'll do something awful like rip out half our eyebrows."

I nodded. "You do need a wax j ob on your eyebrows, yes."

"See," Molly said. "And when it's all said and done nothing will change except my eyebrows will be sore for a week."

And people on TV always seem so excited and grateful when someone offers them a makeover. How was it that I'd run into the two people on the planet who didn't want one? "If I can prove that makeovers make a difference, will you agree to have one?" I asked.

The class bell rung. Everyone around us gathered up their books but none of us moved. "Well?" I asked.

Molly looked at me doubtfully. "How are you going to prove it?"

"Meet Samantha and me after school and we'll run an experiment," I said.

As we went to our next class, I explained the experiment to Samantha. Then she explained why she didn't want to be my friend anymore, but I knew she was just kidding.

After school I waited for everyone by Samantha's car. Samantha and Logan were the first to appear. Logan kept shaking his head as he walked up. "I leave you alone for one night and you join a rock group," he told Samantha. "Now we're apart for a few hours and you're running experiments on how to pick up guys?"

"Well, yeah," she said, "but you don't have to worry because I'm going to be the ugly one who doesn't get picked up."

"It's all in the name of science," I added.

Logan glared at me, then returned his attention to Samantha. "How are you making yourself ugly?"

" I 'm going to take all of my makeup off, pull my hair back, wear your sweatshirt, and borrow some glasses."

"And that's going to do it?" he said. "That's your secret ugly disguise?"

"Right," she said.

He shook his head. "I've seen you without makeup and with your hair pulled back. I hate to break this to you, but a sweatshirt and a pair of glasses are not going to make you ugly."

Samantha took a step closer to him and a smile slid across her face. "You're so sweet."

He looked like he was about to kiss her, which frankly I see enough of and which I shouldn't have to endure because I have no boyfriend. I made shooing motions in his direction. "Yes, it's wonderful that love is blind, but stop trying to ruin my experiment. She's supposed to be acting self-conscious and insecure, not radiant."

Logan didn't kiss Samantha, but he did take hold of her hand. "Where are you running this experiment? I may want to stop by and pick you up."

"Campus," I said. "Northside Marketplace."

Logan's head snapped up. "You're going to pick up college guys?"

"Well, we can't very well pick up high school guys," I said. "Everyone at PHS knows who we are."

"Then go to Moscow," he said. "College guys only want one thing from girls, and I'm not talking about the answers to tomorrow's homework."

I scanned the parking lot for the Patterson twins but didn't see them. "It's just easier and faster to go to campus. But don't worry. Samantha isn't going to pick up anyone, and I'm giving out a fake name. For the experiment, I'm Juliet."

Logan shook his head some more, looked at me like I was crazy, then gave Samantha's hand a squeeze. "Give me a call when you're done not picking up men." He bent down and gave her a kiss which I pretended not to see, then left for his own car. Samantha watched him go with a sigh.

"Oh, stop being radiant," I told her. "You'll mess up my experiment."

She didn't stop though. She stood there smiling until Molly and Polly walked up. As we drove to campus, I turned around in my seat and explained the whole premise to the twins.

"Samantha generally attracts a lot of attention from guys," I said. "And do you know why that is?"

"Because she looks like a Barbie doll?" Polly asked.

"No," I said, "because she takes care of herself. She dresses nicely, does her hair and makeup, and has an air of confidence about her. She walks with good posture, and looks up and smiles at the world. People can tell she feels good about who she is."

"And she looks like a Barbie doll," Molly said.

"I don't look like a Barbie doll," Samantha said.

"Anyway," I went on, "if you don't project that image, you don't earn the respect of the male species. Men are like birds that way. They're both attracted to shiny things. And to prove this point, we're going to set Samantha at a table without all of those things we just talked about. You'll see that the guys don't give her a second glance." Molly stared back at me skeptically. I could tell she didn't believe me but I continued with my explanation.

"After a few minutes I'm going to sit down a little ways away from Samantha. I have my makeup on, my hair done, and I'm wearing a nice outfit. I'm going to look up and smile at people, projecting an image of self-confidence. We'll see how long it takes until someone sits down and starts up a conversation with me."

Samantha pulled into a parking lot and turned off the car. "And if Chelsea proves her point, you two agree to have makeovers, okay?"

"Okay," Polly said, then shot her sister a look. "Well, you said you'd do it if she could prove her point."

Molly grunted and opened her car door. "It's not going to work. The reason the guys at high school are mean to us has nothing to do with what we wear or how confident we look. They're mean because they're jerks. I'll watch your experiment, but if it doesn't go how you say it will, then PHS is made up of a bunch of troglodytes, and you should agree to shun every guy who's ever called us Roly or Poly." Molly held out her hand. "Agreed?"

Samantha shook her hand. "Agreed." Which just goes to show Samantha had no idea how many people at PHS had said the words Roly and Poly while describing the Patterson twins. If we lost, we would no longer be mingling with a large segment of the football team.

We walked across the parking lot and onto campus, past streams of students and ancient brick buildings. Samantha slipped Logan's sweatshirt over her top as we walked. "Now, since Chelsea isn't really trying to pick up anyone, you guys will need to go rescue her about a minute after anyone sits down next to her. Just walk up and say, 'Hey Juliet, are you going to English class? We don't want to be late.' Then she'll excuse herself, and we'll all head back to the car." Samantha shot me a firm look. "Right?"

"Right," I said.

She nodded knowingly. "Just don't revise the plan if the guy who happens to sit down next to you is cute, okay? I mean I know you're on the lookout for a new guy and that since things went south with Mike it might be tempting to receive attention from some college hottie, but the last thing you need is a twenty-two-year-old grad student hitting on you."

"Don't worry," I said.

Samantha nudged Molly and in a lower voice said, "If it's a cute guy, Chelsea will last approximately two minutes before she gives out her name, phone number, and e-mail address. In that case, you'll have to go in for an intervention and pull her out for her own good."