Two Steps Back (3 page)

“So can I ask you something?” asked Alex.

Tommy set down his calculator and half turned toward her. “Yes?” he asked when she hesitated.

“Um, how does a guy act when—I mean, how can a girl tell if a guy likes her?”

Tommy gave her a sly look. “Just wondering, are you?”

She felt herself flush. “Just answer, please?”

“Welllll,” Tommy considered, pressing all ten of his fingertips together lightly, “it's usually not too hard to tell. Guys aren't all that subtle.”

“Well, see, there is this guy-who-will-remain-nameless,” said Alex, suddenly breathless, “and I think he might like me, I mean, you know,
like
like me”—her words came out in a gush—“because, for instance, he hugged me, and—”

“He
hugged
you? Whoa!” said Tommy in mock surprise, waggling his palms and leaning backward in his chair.

“I
know
, and he seems to like to talk to me, about books and stuff, and the way he seems to avoid looking at me sometimes, makes me think he's really shy, and then the other day he bought me this really fancy pumpkin-spiced coffee drink from the pricey coffee place in the mall.” She took a breath, pausing to consider whether it was technically accurate to say he'd bought it for her. “Well, we kind of shared it,” she amended.

“I see,” said Tommy, nodding his head wisely. “I would say that the fact that he bought you a fancy coffee is probably a sign that he's interested. Guys your age don't usually have a reliable source of income, so if he shelled out big bucks for a pumpkin-spice latte, you're probably right about how he feels about you.”

“You think so?” asked Alex, clasping her hands together. She didn't correct his assumption that her crush was her age. What difference did a few years make?

“Yeah, sounds like it. Is he super nerdy like you?”

“Yes!” said Alex without bothering to take offense at this. “He seems to read all the time. Practically every time I've seen him, he has a book with him.”

“Okay, so you two can talk books then,” said Tommy. “And speaking of books, I need to get my math done before I head out to rehearsal, so you better head out now, okay, champ?”

“Wait! Do you think I should ask him to Homecoming, or wait for him to ask me?”

“Maybe he's already planning to, but he's waiting to do it the right way,” said Tommy. “For our Homecoming, there's a big contest for the ‘cute ask,' where the person who thinks of the most clever way to ask someone gets in free and wins some prize.”

Alex considered this. Maybe Luke was planning a big surprise for her.

“Now am-scray, okay?” said Tommy. “I have to get this done.”

“One last thing,” said Alex. “Do you have any ideas for what my story can be about? My news story, that is? My producer, Marcy Maxon, has told me that I need an idea by end of the day tomorrow. I want it to be really different, really unique.”

“Al, I am sure you'll think of something great,” said Tommy. “You inherited more than your share of Sackett brainpower. So go think about it. And vamoose, squirt. Some of us have to actually work to get our mediocre grades.”

Alex jumped off the bed, scampered to her room, and opened her computer. She tried to concentrate on coming up with story ideas for her piece, but her thoughts kept drifting to Luke. She needed to come up with interesting, high-school-level topics to discuss with him next time he came over. Hadn't he been carrying a book on circuitry when she ran into him at the mall? She clicked into the online catalog for her school's library. A book on circuitry. That's what she'd read, so she could casually work that topic into a conversation the next time he came over to tutor Ava.

She scrolled through the titles:
Circuit Analysis Decoded. The Circuit Designer's Guide. Foundations of Digital Circuits.
“Yikes,” she muttered. “Not exactly beach reading.”

“What are you working on?” asked Ava from the doorway.

Alex jumped, and quickly minimized her computer screen. “Oh, just thinking up some story ideas,” she said.

Ava gave her a look that needed no explanation. The twins often sensed what the other was really feeling or thinking, and Ava could always see through Alex when she was faking something.

Alex sighed and smiled guiltily. “Well, to tell you the truth, I was also semi-obsessing about a guy I have a crush on,” she admitted. “I was just looking something up about him.”

Ava's eyes narrowed. “Is it Corey?”

“Corey? No,
definitely
not Corey,” said Alex quickly. “He and Lindsey are totally back together, and I'm completely over him. I mean, he's great, and nice and obviously extremely cute, but we're just friends. No, this is someone else, but I'm not ready to divulge his name to you, because I'm still not positive he likes me.” She suppressed a little grin. “Although I think he does.”

“So then why so secretive?” asked Ava. “You know I'd never tell anyone anything.”

“Just . . . because,” said Alex. She didn't want to tell Ava that she had a crush on her tutor, who happened also to be in high school. Sometimes Ava had a tendency to see the downside of things, and Alex wanted to enjoy this giddy feeling of having a crush on someone before Ava could burst her bubble.

Ava frowned, shrugged, and turned to leave.

“Wait! Ave?”

Ava came back to Alex's doorway.

“Is anything wrong? You look a little, I don't know, upset?”

Ava shook her head quickly. “We had a tough practice today,” she said. “And—well, I'm not ready to divulge anything to you right this very moment.”

“Oh,” said Alex, feeling a little hurt. But then again, she'd just said the exact same thing to Ava.

Ava turned and left.

Alex stared at the place where her sister had been standing. This didn't feel right. She and Ava never kept secrets from each other. Maybe she should have told her about Luke after all.

On Tuesday after practice, Coach Kenerson gathered the team together and told them to take a knee. Ava felt her stomach coil up like a tightly wound spring. She knew what was coming.

“I talked to the Briar Ridge athletic director,” said Coach K, vigorously polishing his sunglasses. “And I'm afraid I have some disappointing news.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd of players.

“Briar Ridge has, ah . . . Briar Ridge will not be playing us on Saturday.”

A loud cry of protest erupted.

Coach K raised his hands to quiet them. “I know. It's disappointing. It seems that the Briar Ridge administration has chosen to listen to a small but very vocal minority of parents who are concerned about playing us.”

“Why?” demanded Xander Browning. “Are they afraid we'll wallop them?” He rammed his ham-size fist into his palm menacingly.

“No, no, it's not that. It's, ah, about, ah, playing against a team with, ah . . .” Coach K stopped and looked to the right and to the left, but his assistant coaches suddenly became fascinated by their own shoes.

Ava felt everyone's eyes on her. Her face burned. She wanted to put her helmet back on, but that would be too obvious. She, too, stared at the ground. An ant was crawling across her cleat, and she concentrated on its wobbly route between her laces.

Coach K didn't have to finish his sentence. Everyone knew why Briar Ridge had chosen to forfeit the game.

Corey was the first to respond. “Okay, fine,” he said. “We'll take the win, and they'll forfeit. Not our problem.”

“It stinks that we don't get to play them,” said Kal Tippett. “I was really looking forward to getting revenge for last year's game. Now they'll be able to keep bragging about how they beat us for a whole 'nother year.”

There were murmurs of agreement.

“Hey! What if Sackett sits it out?” asked Andy Baker. “Would they play us then?”

Ava held her breath. Leave it to Andy Baker to be the one to ask that question. Ashland Middle School wouldn't ever let Briar Ridge get away with such a thing . . . right? If
they
got away with it, what would stop every other opponent they played from saying the same thing?

“She's not going to sit out!” said Corey hotly. “We need her. She's our best kicker and you know it, Baker. Especially now that Xander's my blocker. Besides, why should we give them what they want when they're acting so stupid?”

Ava's heart swelled with gratitude toward Corey.

Andy scowled. Some of his friends were talking in low voices, saying stuff Ava couldn't hear. But she knew they thought she ought to volunteer to sit out the game.

“Sackett's not sitting out. That's not going to happen, Baker,” Coach K chimed in. “Our administration is behind us the whole way. We play with Sackett, or we don't play. That's final.”

Ava stared harder at the ground. Now the ant was crawling toward her helmet, which was on the ground next to her. It must look like the Superdome to the ant. What if Andy was right? It did seem dumb to make her whole team lose out on the opportunity to play a game they'd been looking forward to for so long. But her whole life she'd been taught to stand up for herself. She wished her dad were here to talk this over with her. She decided to stay quiet.

No one said anything to her as they walked toward the locker rooms. The whole team was somber, their disappointment palpable.

Practice had run late, so Ava had the girls' locker room all to herself. She'd miss the late bus if she didn't hustle, but she didn't care. She'd walk. She didn't feel like seeing or talking to anyone right now.

Dinner wasn't quite ready, so Alex checked her e-mail for the fifth time in five minutes. She'd sent Marcy Maxon her story ideas and was waiting to hear what her response would be. She'd been nervous to send the e-mail—Emily was right, Marcy Maxon
was
somewhat of a celebrity in Ashland. She was supersmart and super stylish, with blond hair and perfect skin, and a big, Broadway-style voice that was tinged with a Texas accent.

Finally her laptop dinged. She had a message from Marcy!

These ideas are not working for me, Alexandra. A feature about a day in the life of a seventh-grade class president doesn't have the heartstring appeal I'm looking for. And your community service organizing to fund the new scoreboard is on the right track, but it's already happened. We would have nothing to work with visually.

Give me a good human-interest story. Focus on the Sackett family. That will attract a wide viewership. Yours is a high-profile last name. Don't you have a sister who plays football? Work that angle. Remember: A good reporter has to make sacrifices, Alexandra.

The first sentence stung. Television people could be so abrupt! What did Marcy Maxon even mean? Alex had been so sure one of her ideas would appeal to her, but it seemed like nothing did. And a story about Ava? Been there, done that. Yes, it was cool that Ava was the first-ever girl to play for the AMS team, but the media frenzy was over. Now she was just a player like everyone else. There was no controversy anymore. Everyone had accepted that a girl was on the team. Alex sighed. She was never going to think of something.

By the time Ava got home, dinner was on the table. Tommy, Alex, and Mrs. Sackett had already started eating. Ava stepped over Moxy, washed her hands at the sink, and slid into her seat. “Sorry I'm late,” she mumbled. “Where's Coach?”

Mrs. Sackett grimaced. “He said he'd be home late again,” she said. “That's the life of a big-time Texas football coach.”

Ava's heart sank. She had hoped to be able to talk to her dad about her football situation. He always seemed to make her feel better, no matter what the problem was.

“Saw him in a powwow with Coach Byron and the others on my way out,” said Tommy, pouring himself another huge glass of milk.

That only made Ava feel more anxious. Was Coach Byron going to get fired? Surely her dad wouldn't let that happen. But then again, there were forces in the Ashland football program that were beyond her dad's control.