by Belle Payton
Ava had no idea what a pike was. “It’s pretty good,” she replied.
“Good, because I heard Molly over there has improved a lot since cheer camp last summer, even though she sprained her ankle at the end of it.” Rosa gestured toward a small girl with reddish hair who was sitting in the stands with her leg propped up in front of her. “Did you go to cheer camp back in Massachusetts?”
Rosa was starting to annoy her. Ava knew she could be competitive, but there were certain people—like Rosa—who seemed to bring this out in her more, and Ava could feel herself getting increasingly worked up by the second. “No,” she said flatly. “But I’ve been doing some practicing on my own.” That was true. She’d spent the morning watching cheerleading how-to videos online and practicing along with them.
“Oh. Well, I know you want to make first cuts,” said Rosa. “Good luck!” she added sweetly.
Ava suddenly realized she was wearing her most competitive expression, one that Tommy always said could make stone statues quake at the knees. She quickly put on a more Alex-like smile, but inside, she was getting fired up for this clinic. She was going to prove to Rosa, and everyone, that Alex could do this. Even if she was Ava.
Luckily, just then Coach Jen clapped her hands and called everyone over to start stretching.
Alex peered through the railings at the side of the bleachers. She had a pretty good vantage point to observe what was going on. She watched Ava chatting with Lindsey and Rosa and Emily. It looked like she was doing okay. Then she heard Coach Jen clap her hands and call the group over.
Alex was too far away to hear what Coach Jen was saying to the girls, but the talk was brief, and soon the eighth-grade captains were leading the group through a series of stretches. Coach Jen and her assistant stood to one side, talking with each other and consulting the clipboard. The high school girls stood in a small group, chatting and laughing.
Next the girls were divided into three groups. Alex could see that the coach for Ava’s group was Kylie’s older sister. What was her name? Yvette! That was it. Alex watched the groups practice the cheer they’d been asked to learn for the clinic. She yawned. Ava was doing great. She looked like one of the more coordinated girls out there. Still, Alex thought, is it really necessary that I observe the whole afternoon? If her sister did make first cuts, and Alex had to come back for practice tomorrow, she was sure Ava could teach her the routines. She found a cozy-looking niche in a corner where some exercise mats were stacked, sat down, and pulled out A Tale of Two Cities, which she was reading for her advanced English class.
CHAPTER
Six
Two hours passed quickly. Alex finished a chapter, put away her book, and went back to her lookout post to see what was going on. Everyone was lining up for the final routine. The coaches and high school cheerleaders were sitting in the bleachers, watching. Where was Ava?
Alex spotted her, second from the left. It was a little eerie, how much Ava looked like her at that moment. Her ponytail was still pinned securely in place, although Alex noted that Ava had flipped up the waistband on her shorts. Oh well—Alex had asked a lot of her. At least she was remembering to smile.
The music started. The girls began the dance. It was an upbeat, popular song, one that you couldn’t resist dancing to when you heard it. Alex moved her feet as she watched the girls step, step, step, twirl. Check mark left, check mark right, V-pose. Then a mambo-cha-cha-cha, turn around, and do it again. Ava was excellent. Alex marveled at how confidently she nailed every step. She bounced up and down with excitement. And was it her imagination, or was Rosa glaring at Ava out of the corner of her eye?
After the routine, she watched the girls demonstrate jumps. Ava did a hurdle, a pike, and a toe touch. She was awesome at all three.
Tommy picked them up right at five o’clock, at the side door of the gym.
“How’d it go?” he asked them, as Alex slid into the front seat and Ava into the back. Ava had called shotgun, but Alex argued it was more believable that she—pretending to be Ava—would be sitting in the front.
Alex noticed that Ava’s face was flushed and her eyes were shining. She knew that look. Her sister loved competing, no matter what the sport. “I thought she looked fantastic,” said Alex. She turned toward Ava. “How do you think you did?”
“Well, except for the fact that my mouth is paralyzed into a permanent frozen smile, I think it went pretty well,” said Ava. “They’re posting the results online at seven tonight.”
Tommy was shaking his head. “I can’t believe you guys got away with this. You’re so lucky Mom and Coach didn’t offer to come get you. They were in the middle of interviewing Luke.”
“Who’s Luke?” asked Alex.
“Luke Grabowski. He’s my friend who’s applying for the tutoring job in the Sackett household, remember?”
“Oh yeah. My tutor,” muttered Ava. “I’m really looking forward to that happening.” The Sacketts had recently found out that Ava had ADHD, and they were trying to find someone to help her with homework a few nights a week.
They parked in the driveway. “I’ll go in and make sure they’re still with Luke,” said Tommy. “You two might want to switch back before you go inside. You know Mom won’t be fooled for a second by your getups.”
Alex knew he was right. As soon as he’d gone inside, she unpinned Ava’s fake ponytail and pulled the Celtics cap off her own head. Her long curls tumbled down around her shoulders. The girls swapped shirts, which wasn’t pleasant for Alex, as the shirt of hers Ava had worn was damp with sweat. “Ew,” she said, curling her lip and plucking the shirt away from her body.
“What did you expect?” said Ava. “Cheerleading is hard work.”
Alex watched Ava pull out several bobby pins and then try to mess up her own hair.
“It’s not doing what it usually does,” said Ava. “You put too much hair spray in it.”
“Here,” said Alex, thrusting the Celtics cap toward her sister. “Put this on.”
“Good plan,” said Ava. “And hand me a tissue so I can wipe some of this gunk off my face.”
Ava followed her sister inside. Moxy came bounding around the corner to greet them, and then skidded to a stop and cocked her head to one side, looking perplexed.
“I think she’s confused because our clothes must smell like both of us together,” whispered Ava, giving Moxy a reassuring pat on the head. Moxy’s tail thumped on the floor, but without the usual enthusiasm.
There were voices coming from the study. She exchanged a quick look with Alex. They silently agreed it would be better to say hello briefly than try to sneak past their parents. Anyway, they were now more or less back to their regular selves.
“Ava!” called Coach. “Come meet Luke.”
“You too, Alex,” said their mom.
The girls both stopped at the door of the study.
A blond boy about Tommy’s age stood up from his chair and turned toward the door. He seemed nice enough, Ava thought. And he had a friendly smile. But she was still nervous about having a tutor.
“Hi,” she said shyly, stepping into the room.
“Hi, Ava,” he said.
“Yo, dude!” said Tommy from the hallway. “Have you bamboozled them into thinking you’re an upstanding citizen?”
Luke blushed and rolled his eyes, which Ava thought was sweet. She already felt a little bit better about having to work on her homework with him.
“Ignore Tom, please,” said Coach. “This is Ava’s twin sister, Alex.” He gestured to Alex, who was in the doorway. “How were tryouts, Al?”
When Alex didn’t answer immediately, Ava turned to look at her sister. Uh-oh.
Alex’s mouth had dropped open, and her head was tilted slightly to one side. If this were a cartoon, Ava thought, Alex’s eyes would have hearts for pupils. Ava knew this look. Her sister was love struck.
“Hey, Al?” prompted Coach. “Tryouts? Did they go okay?”
Alex seemed to snap out of it.
“Tryouts? What tryouts?” She tore her gaze away from Luke and focused on Coach. “Oh! Tryouts! Yes! They were great! Awesome!”
Mrs. Sackett narrowed her eyes at Alex.
“Well, it was nice to meet you,” Ava said to Luke hastily, and hustled her sister out of the room before their mom could examine either of them too closely.
Ava shoved her sister kindly but firmly into Alex’s room with a whispered “Go change!” and then hurried toward her own room. The sooner she got into the shower to wash the spray out of her hair and the rest of the gunk off her face, the better.
She was gathering up clean clothes in a bundle to take to the bathroom when she heard Tommy call her from down the hall.
“Hey,” she said, stopping at the door of his room.
“Hey,” he said, and beckoned her in. “I’ve got a little situation I need some help with.”
Ava came in and sat down on his bed.
“You look really freaky with makeup on,” he said.
“Thanks. That’s what you called me in to tell me?”
“No. Sorry.” Tommy got up and quietly closed the door. “It’s about Friday night and the game.”
“It’s going to be a close one, huh?” said Ava.
“Yeah, and that’s the thing,” said Tommy. “See, I know I’m not going to get into the game. PJ’s not going to come out when it’s that tight a contest. And Dion’s getting healthier every day, and he’s ahead of me. And the thing is, I have somewhere I would rather be than standing on the sidelines, knowing there’s no chance I’ll get into the game.”
“Where?” asked Ava, although she had a feeling she already knew the answer.
He looked at her directly. “The tri-school band competition. It starts at eight p.m., and I want to be there.”
Ava nodded. She was silent. This was touchy. Coach would never say yes to Tommy leaving the game midway through. It just wasn’t what you did as a member of a team, no matter how important—or unimportant—you were to the team’s chance of winning. But Tommy would definitely need to leave at halftime if he wanted to get to the concert on time.
“You realize Coach would kill you if you left.”
“Gee, thanks. Like that hadn’t occurred to me.”
“Sorry.”
“Can you help me think of something?”
Ava pondered. “Maybe you could pretend to be sick.”
Her brother shook his head. “I thought of that. But he’d never believe it. He knows how tough I am.”
Ava raised her eyebrows. “Aren’t we being modest?”
“No, I mean, we all are. All the guys understand you need to be semi-comatose or bleeding from multiple wounds before you’re allowed to admit you don’t feel well. It’s the football culture.”
“Not if you suddenly come down with a stomach bug,” Ava pointed out. “Even Coach would send you away. No one on the team would want you within half a mile of the locker room for fear of catching it.”
Tommy stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm.”
“Go to him at halftime. Tell him you have a stomach thing. That you think you caught it from someone at school. Tell him you don’t want to infect the rest of the team.” As soon as Ava had said it, she felt a shudder of unease at how easily the lie had come to her. Am I becoming a hardened criminal? One who can come up with diabolical schemes without batting an eye?
“I think you’re onto something, Ave. I can bolt at halftime,” said Tommy, with growing enthusiasm. “I can get a friend to drive me—if I hop into a waiting getaway car, I should get to the concert in plenty of time. We’re third on the program.” Tommy looked intrigued. Then his face fell. “But the band competition might run late. What if I’m not home before Coach is? If I’m supposed to be half-dead of the stomach flu, I can’t be out when he gets home.”
“Good point,” said Ava. “I’m not sure.” She and Tommy sat side by side on Tommy’s bed, their chins resting on the heels of their hands, brooding.
Ava sat up. “It’s highly unlikely he’ll be home right after the game. He always has to stay and talk to the press and get interviewed and stuff. But on the off chance that he gets home first, I can tell him you got a friend to drive you to the walk-in clinic. Like Luke or somebody. On whom, by the way, Alex already has a mega-crush.”
Tommy rolled his eyes. “I could’ve seen that one coming,” he said. “I always forget how dreamy Luke is. I guess I don’t stare into his eyes as often as I should. But yeah, Ave, I think this plan might just work. Have I told you you’re awesome?”
“No.”
“Well, you’re . . . wait. Forget it. You’re not awesome.”
“Why not? What’s wrong with this plan?”
“Uh, hello? What about Mom? If she hears I’m sick, she’ll be home to check on me in four minutes flat. She’ll have me rushed to the nearest hospital.”
“She won’t hear. Who would she hear from? You say something to Coach at halftime. You leave. No one would go running into the stands to tell her.”
“What about after the game, though? Coach will tell her then, and she’ll go straight home to cook up some strengthening broth for me.”
“Ha! No, she won’t!” said Ava triumphantly, leaping up. “I just remembered! She told me she has an old friend coming in from out of town Friday night. She’s having a late dinner with her, leaving straight from the game. So you’re clear! She won’t even see Coach until much later.”
“Ave?”
“Yep?”
“You’re awesome.”
“I know.”
“But you do still look freaky with that eye stuff on. And you have glitter on your nose. Go wash your face.”
“Thanks,” she said drily, getting to her feet. “I will.”
As she headed for the bathroom, she found herself wondering how, in just two days, she had become partners in crime with both of her siblings.
CHAPTER
Seven
Ava came down to dinner half an hour later, having scrubbed her face with a washcloth and washed her hair twice to get all the hair spray out. She stepped over Moxy, who was sprawled as usual across the kitchen floor, and slid into her seat.
Coach was talking about the upcoming game on Friday. “They’re deep and talented on both sides of the ball. Defensively, their corners are fast and athletic, and offensively, their line protects their QB very well. It’s going to be a close game.” He took a moody bite of his meat loaf. “PJ’s going to have his work cut out for him. He’s going to need your moral support big-time, Tom.”
Tommy flicked a glance at Ava. She held his gaze for a fraction of a second and looked down at her plate. They both knew that what Coach was saying was code for You’re not going to play and we all know it.
“So tell us all about tryouts, Alex!” said Mrs. Sackett, who seemed eager to change the subject.
“Tryouts?” said Alex. “Ow! Oh, oh, right. Tryouts. They were great.” She smiled.
Ava, who had just kicked her sister under the table, was surprised that Alex didn’t seem more upset about lying to their parents, even if she wasn’t great at it. Was her sister heading straight to a life in a penitentiary? In English, Ava’s class was reading a story by Edgar Allan Poe called “The Tell-Tale Heart.” Although usually Ava had a hard time sticking with a story for very long, this one had held her attention. It was about a guy who’d murdered someone and stuck him under the floorboards, but then the guy went mad and imagined he heard the pounding of his victim’s heartbeat growing louder and louder until he couldn’t stand it anymore and turned himself in to the police. Was guilt not pounding through Alex’s brain like it was through Ava’s?
“Was Molly Clifford there?” asked Mrs. Sackett. “I ran into her mom at the grocery store, and she told me Molly had sprained her ankle, but I’m not sure how bad it was.”
Alex blinked. “Molly? Oh! Yes. She was. I mean, no. I don’t think so. I mean, I can’t remember.”
On second thought, Ava realized, Alex was a t
errible liar. She jumped in to rescue her sister.
“I think you mean she was there but wasn’t actually trying out,” said Ava hastily. “What I heard was that Molly is under doctor’s orders to stay off her ankle for two more days, so they’re going to give her a tryout on Tuesday.”
“Oh, right,” said Alex. “I forgot.”
Ava could feel her mother shift in her seat. She didn’t dare look up. Her mom was nearly impossible to deceive.
“What’s that you’re wearing, Ava?” Mrs. Sackett asked suddenly.
Ava froze. Had she somehow left the bow in her hair or something?
Her mom put a hand on Ava’s cheek and pulled it gently in her direction. “Your eyes. Are you wearing glitter? There’s some on your cheek, too.”
Ava felt her whole face go hot. She’d had no idea how to get all the stupid glitter off her face. She’d scrubbed every inch of herself, of course, but it just seemed to transfer bits of glitter from one part of her body to another. She heard Tommy snort across the table, and if she could have been sure exactly where his legs were, she would have planted an indignant kick to his shins.
For once, Alex saved the day. “I was experimenting on Ava,” she said.
Coach raised one eyebrow and inspected Ava’s face with interest. “Huh,” he said.
“And by the way,” Alex continued, “are you guys planning to hire Tommy’s friend? Was his name Luke?”
“We’re not sure yet,” said her mother. “We’ve just started the process of interviewing people, and we’re not totally sure what we’re doing, but he certainly seemed bright, and enthusiastic. And more than competent.”
“And dreamy,” coughed Tommy into his napkin. “Ow!” he said loudly. “Who kicked me?”
Alex must have been sure exactly where Tommy’s legs were.
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