I turned and saw Nina and Artie Lerner squeezing into our row.

It was my turn to let out a groan. Jackson and I can’t stand those two kids.

I wanted to pretend I didn’t see them. But Nina was already waving to us. And Artie had a dopey, toothy grin on his face.

They dropped into the seats next to Jackson. “Funny meeting you here,” Artie said. He giggled. That was his idea of a joke.

“These seats are too close,” Nina complained. “It’s making my eyes hurt.”

“What is this dumb film, anyway?” Artie asked, wrinkling his thick black eyebrows. “Is it like Batman or what?”

I took a deep breath. “Butt-Kicker could eat Batman for breakfast,” I told him.

Let me explain about Nina and Artie. They are twins, too. And they just moved to our school in September. We’re in some of the same classes.

And because they’re twins and we’re twins, Jackson and I were assigned to be like their school guides. You know. Show them the ropes.

So we became their first friends at school. We really didn’t want to be their friends. We quickly discovered they were both totally gross and disgusting. We didn’t like them at all. But people were always putting us together.

You know how there’s one kid in class whose nose never stops running? Well, that is Artie Lerner. Artie and Nina both say they have sinus problems.

But Artie is the worst. He’s constantly blowing his nose into these disgusting, wet, wadded-up tissues. And when he eats in the lunchroom, snot drips onto his sandwich. Really!

How gross is that?

Artie is always giggling at things that aren’t funny. And he thinks he’s cool because he wears baggy, low-riding jeans and long, heavy metal rock-group T-shirts. But no one is into that at our school. He looks like a little kid playing dress-up!

They both have curly brown hair that looks greasy. And they walk kind of hunched over with their shoulders slumped. They look tense and worried all the time.

The Lerners have high, whiny voices. Nina never stops complaining about her migraines and her sinuses and whatever.

She stands too close when she talks to you. I mean, right in your face. And she always pokes you with one finger as she talks. She’s always touching you, and grabbing you, and poking you.

I guess you get the picture. The Lerner twins are no fun.

Nina squirmed in her seat. “It’s kind of damp in this theater,” she said. “Very bad for my sinuses. Hope I don’t get one of my attacks.”

I pretended I was totally into the commercials on the screen.

Jackson had his head down, like he was studying his popcorn bucket.

“Yo, dude,” Artie said. He is always calling everyone “dude.” Girls, too. “Awesome sweater. I saw one just like it at Old Navy.”

Artie grabbed Jackson’s sleeve to feel the sweater.

Jackson let out a startled cry as Artie bumped the bucket from his hand. And a ton of butter-soaked popcorn came spilling out.

“My sweater!” Jackson shouted. He frantically tried to brush the popcorn off. But he had two huge butter stains on the front. “My new sweater! I don’t believe it!”

I guess I was wrong about stains not showing on black sweaters.

Artie shrugged. “No biggie,” he said. “It doesn’t look too bad.” He brushed some popcorn kernels off Jackson’s sleeve.

“It’s totally ruined!” Jackson said.

“It’ll come right out in the wash,” Artie said.

He wiped his runny nose on the back of his hand. Then he dug into the bottom of the bucket, pulled out a handful of Jackson’s popcorn, and shoved it into his mouth.

Jackson may be the calm one in our family. But you can push him too far.

And that was too far!

Jackson let out a roar. He wrapped an arm around Artie’s neck and began wrestling with him.

The popcorn bucket rolled into the aisle, and a little girl tripped over it. She fell onto her knees and started to scream.

Jackson pulled Artie out of his seat. The two of them tumbled into the aisle, wrestling, grabbing at each other, punching.

Nina jumped to her feet and started shrieking. “Don’t hurt him! Don’t hurt him! You’ll kill him!”

Up on the screen, a little mouse was telling everyone to turn off their cell phones and be “quiet as a mouse” during the movie.

A skinny middle-aged man in a black suit appeared from out of nowhere. He had some kind of badge hanging around his neck. He grabbed Jackson with one hand and Artie with the other.

“I’m the manager,” he said. “You four — let’s go. Quickly. You’re out of here. All of you — you’re under arrest!”