A Whole New Ball Game (10 page)

Ava looked at Jack to see if he had picked up on her sister's coldness. If he had, he didn't seem to be bothered by it.

“Jack and I are going to play catch,” said Ava shortly.

She took the ball from Jack's grasp, backed up a few paces, and tossed it to him. Alex sniffed, turned on her heel, and headed back toward the party.

What is up with Alex?
Ava thought.
Why was she so mean to Jack? What right does she have to be so judgmental?
Anyway, it didn't matter—Ava wasn't even interested in him!

Jack interrupted her thoughts. “So a friend of mine asked me to ask you something,” he said, staring down awkwardly at his sneakers.

Ava had no idea what was coming. She braced herself.

“He, uh, he wants to know if, uh, if your sister likes anyone right now.” Jack finished the end of his sentence in a rush and looked relieved to have gotten it out.

Ava felt a flood of relief. That was all, then. She was used to guys having crushes on her sister. It wasn't the first time she'd been sounded out on her sister's behalf. But who was it? Her heart sank. What if it was that guy Corey? The one who'd said that if their dad didn't win big, he was “out of here”?

“I—ah—I don't really know,” she said, and she realized she was being truthful. Alex seemed to like Corey, but they hadn't really talked about it. She and Alex hadn't had a regular heart-to-heart in a long time. She felt hot tears brimming in her eyes, and her vision misted up. She missed her sister.

Just then Jack hurled the football and she leaped up and caught it. She got into a throwing stance. “Go long!” she called to him. Whatever was wrong between her and Alex only seemed to be getting worse, but Ava couldn't think of a better distraction than playing sports.

After Alex left Ava and Jack, the first person she saw was her mother, surrounded by some of the ladies who had rung their doorbell. Another woman was heading toward Mrs. Sackett from the other side of the barbecue area, where Coach was also surrounded. The woman was Mrs. Kelly, and Alex realized she must be PJ's mom. She felt a pang of foreboding, remembering what Ava had said. Hadn't Mrs. Kelly been going around saying mean things about their dad's coaching style?

Mrs. Kelly was in midsentence as Alex made her way into the circle next to her mother.

“Oh, there you are, honey,” said her mom, in the artificially cheerful voice Alex had come to
recognize meant her mom was seriously uncomfortable. “Mrs. Kelly was just talking about the team.”

“I was just remarking about your dad's unorthodox approach to practices,” said Mrs. Kelly. Alex could tell Mrs. Kelly was agitated, but when she spoke, there was a big smile on her face.

Alex looked worriedly at her mom.
Time to change the subject,
she thought.

“Did you know my mom is an amazing ceramist?” she asked the ladies.

“Oh! How quaint!” said Mrs. Kelly.

Mrs. Sackett shot Alex a grateful look, relieved not to have to talk about the football team.

Alex pushed on. “Yes, and we're designing a new website for her to sell her work. She's already fired over a dozen new pieces.”

“I don't know how you do it all, Laura!” said Mrs. Cahill.

“Wait a minute, April, aren't you a surgeon?” asked Mrs. Sackett, laughing. “That's not exactly a low-stress job!”

“Oh, but I'm not the coach's wife,” said Mrs. Cahill.

Mrs. Sackett opened her mouth to say
something, and then closed it again. She just smiled and nodded.

Alex started to say something too. She wanted to tell them that back in Massachusetts, her mom had had a full-time job as an art teacher,
and
she'd been the head of a dorm at her husband's old school,
and
she'd never missed one of Ava's or Tommy's games,
and
—but a warning look from her mother made her stay quiet. Ava always seemed to know when to stop talking, but sometimes Alex had a hard time figuring that out. She was having an especially difficult time here, in this new place, with that. She missed Ava. Ava had always been there to help her negotiate this kind of thing.

She turned to look at her twin. There she was on the wide lawn, still throwing a ball around with that scoundrel, Jack, and a few other boys. A lump rose in her throat as she watched her sister gracefully stretch out to catch the football and then fling it, effortlessly, to the next kid. It spun in a perfect spiral into his outstretched hands. She and Ava needed to clear the air. Alex would tell her what she knew about Jack.

She excused herself from the circle of ladies, who had moved on from her mother to discussing
college football, and headed back toward her sister. And then she stopped short.

There was a girl heading in the same direction. That Girl. The one she'd seen with Jack at the mall and at the pool. The one who was almost definitely his girlfriend.

Alex looked quickly toward Ava. She was running after a long toss and hadn't seen the girl yet. Would she be devastated? Alex quickened her step.

Close up, the girl was undeniably pretty. She was dressed more casually than Alex was (mental note, Alex thought: Summer block parties call for casual chic for middle-school girls). She had on white shorts that made her long, tanned legs look even longer and more tanned, and a sleeveless navy blouse that was tied in a cute bow at the hem. Her hair was piled carelessly on the back of her head in a bun (mental note, Alex thought: Topknots are out—high buns are in). She had a considerable amount of makeup on, but it looked really good on her.

By the time Alex reached them, the boys and Ava had already trotted in to form a circle and were making introductions.

“Lindsey,” said Jack, as Alex joined them. “This
is Ava's sister, Alex, the one I told you about. I guess you can tell they're twins,” he added, with a sideways smile.

“Hi,” said Alex, a trifle cautiously. She wasn't sure what ground they might be standing on, metaphorically speaking. Would Lindsey be mean to her and Ava, because she knew Ava had been hanging out with Jack? Would she act jealous? Triumphant? Was Ava really upset and not showing it? She certainly didn't look upset.

“You guys look so much alike!” Lindsey exclaimed. Her voice was musical, pretty. Alex detected only the slightest hint of a Texas accent.

To Ava, Lindsey said, “I'm so glad you wear your hair short, or I don't think I'd be able to tell you two apart at all! Have you ever been confused with each other?”

“Our mom says when we were little our dad used to make a mark on Alex's hand so he could tell us apart,” said Ava, “but he denies that.”

Lindsey giggled. “Well, you sure do look alike. Except for the hair, of course.”

Alex kept her face impassive, but inside she was unimpressed. Did this girl not realize that she and Ava had been hearing comments their whole lives about how much they looked alike?

“I think your hair is totally adorable,” Lindsey continued. “You look a little like Jenna Zachary on
That's So Awesome!
”

“Thanks,” said Ava with a small smile. “I cut it because I thought it would be easier for playing sports and stuff. Plus, it's so hot here.”

Lindsey squealed with laughter as if Ava had just said the funniest thing in the world. Alex was even more confused. Was Lindsey being nice, or fake-nice? Why was it so hard to tell? And why did Ava feel the need to explain her haircut to this girl, this stranger, this girlfriend of the boy she liked, when she hadn't ever really bothered to explain it to her own twin sister?

Jack and his friends had stepped away and were chatting together, clearly bored of the talk about hairdos.

“I was so excited when I heard you guys were going to be at the party,” Lindsey continued. She turned toward Alex. “Jack tells me you like design and fashion! I just love your dress.”

Alex wasn't sure, but she thought maybe Lindsay's tone indicated that she felt quite the opposite about her dress. Alex suddenly had the feeling that she'd worn exactly the wrong thing to this party. She decided she had to do some
damage control quickly and show stylish Lindsay that she knew a thing or two about fashion.

“Thanks. I like your top,” said Alex sincerely. “It's so retro.”

Lindsey's smile grew tighter, but Alex didn't notice.

“Was it your mother's?” Alex went on. “Actually, it looks like it's, like, from the fifties! Maybe your grandmother's?”

“No, it wasn't,” said Lindsey through gritted teeth.

“Did you get it from a thrift shop?” Alex pressed.

Lindsay's face was now bright red.

“Alex, I don't think it's retro,” said Ava, giving her sister a meaningful look.

Alex finally understood Ava's unspoken message. It meant,
Let it go. Move on.
But what had she said? Why would Lindsey be mad at her for asking about her top? Had Alex said the wrong thing? Had she offended her? She
liked
retro. Thrift shops were all the rage in Boston—Alex and Isabel used to go all the time. Were they not cool in Texas?

Lindsey stepped over to where the boys were standing and hooked her arm through Jack's.
“Your mom wants us to go over to have our picture taken,” she murmured in his ear.

Is she using that icky familiar tone with him to upset Ava?
Alex wondered. But Ava's expression remained neutral.

“It was so great to meet y'all!” she said over her shoulder as she and Jack walked back toward the barbecue area. “I just can't
wait
till school starts and we can see more of one another!”

There was silence between the twins. The noise of the party receded in the background.

Ava put her hands on her hips. “What is up with you?” she demanded. “Why were you so rude just now?”

“What are you even
talking
about?” Alex asked. “I was totally nice! I just told her I liked her top, didn't I?”

“I didn't mean to Lindsey,” said Ava impatiently. “I meant to
Jack
. Both times you've been around him, you've barely looked at him or spoken to him. He's really not cool enough for you, is he?”

Alex seethed. “Why should I be nice to a guy who inappropriately flirts with someone when he already has a girlfriend? I find that totally reprehensible.”

“I don't know what reprehensible even means, but I never said I liked him,” protested Ava. “Who
cares
if he likes Lindsey?” She started to say something else, then seemed to think better of it, then seemed to decide to say it after all. “And you've been so weird about my haircut.”

“Weird how?”

“Like, you've taken it as a personal insult that I cut it short. I just did it for sports. You seem to think a haircut is, like, completely intertwined with popularity. But hair just doesn't really matter to me like it seems to matter to you.”

Alex reared back, wounded. “I don't
care
about hair. Well, I do, but not that much. I just thought you were trying so hard to look different, to separate yourself from me. I would never drastically change how I look without consulting you first. We've never ever done that before. You don't even seem to like being twins anymore.”

Ava's eyes widened. “
What
are you
talking
about? You're the one who's been ignoring me! Remember at the pool that day? You couldn't get away from me fast enough, to join the popular kids. I was stuck playing with a couple of little kids.”

“I thought you liked playing with little kids!
And anyway, Corey was there, and you haven't exactly been pleasant to
him
.”

“Corey?” Ava rolled her eyes. “He's kind of a jerk, no offense. I haven't liked him ever since the first day of practice, when I heard him trash-talking Coach. I even heard him say there are no second chances in Ashland.”

Their voices were climbing. “You are so wrong about him!” Alex shot back. She couldn't think straight. She was dimly aware of her dad's and Tommy's voices not far away from them, and they also sounded like they were arguing.

“Girls!” hissed their mother, who was suddenly standing between them. “We are
leaving
!”

They both knew enough to obey that tone.

As Ava and Alex wound their way through the crowds of people, Alex tried not to cry. She was aware that everyone was staring at them. Great. Not only was her relationship with her sister in shambles, but so was her reputation. Half the town had witnessed the meltdown. By tomorrow, the
whole
town would know.

Forget class president. She'd be lucky if she got a seat at a decent lunch table. At this point, Ava probably wouldn't even sit with her.

Up in her room, Ava lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The house, usually full of laughing, talking, singing, and barking when the whole family was home, was eerily quiet. Her parents were talking in murmurs in their bedroom down the hall, and Tommy was in his room, playing moody songs on his keyboard. She assumed Alex was in her own room, too.
Maybe she's color-coding her sock drawer,
Ava thought, and then immediately regretted it.

Moxy had sensed that something was amiss and had followed Ava upstairs. Now the dog lay alongside her, and Ava stroked her black, brown, and white fur softly. Every so often, Moxy rolled her eyes upward to look worriedly at Ava.

The awful block party kept playing over and over in her head, like a video set to loop. She hadn't really meant to say such mean things to Alex. It must have been the long buildup, the stress about their dad, and—

Their dad. What had he and Tommy been fighting about? Was Tommy upset that he was facing a long season of sitting on the bench? Was he upset because Coach was being rough on him? Or did he really, secretly, deep down, not care that much about football? Maybe Coach sensed that at some level and didn't want to admit that his own son wasn't as passionate about the sport as he was.