Even the Score (3 page)

Mrs. Sackett stood. “Time to get the show on the road. I need to get working—you saw how much work it took to fill my last big order, and that was just for one person! You all need to go to school. And your dad needs to win a football game.”

In minutes, their family had scattered.

“So, Sackett, you understand how this tackle thing works, right?” Jack Valdeavano perched on the corner of Ava's desk, waiting for Mrs. Vargas to start math class.

“Tackle thing? What are you talking about?” Ava twirled her pencil between her fingers. Jack was one of her good friends, but talking to him when they weren't shooting hoops made her strangely jittery.

“You need to wait for the tackle to hit you
before
you land on your butt.” Jack gave her a crooked grin.

Ava sucked in her breath. “How'd you hear about that?”

“Everyone knows. There's even a video up.”

“No!” She lowered her voice. “Really?”

“No, not really. Got you!” Jack pushed back the unruly hair that always flopped into his eyes. “Corey told me.”

“Well, it's not funny. Our practices have been horrible this week.” She glanced across the room. Owen sat at a desk by the window. He was reading a paperback book, but she couldn't
see the cover. “Anyway, what do you know about tackling? You play wimpy sports that don't need pads,” she teased.

“Soccer and basketball require skill. We are athletes, not barbarians.” Jack smirked. They had a running joke, debating which was better—soccer or football.

“A trained monkey can kick a ball into a goal,” Ava scoffed.

“At least it's
trained
!” Jack said, before Mrs. Vargas called the class to order.

Ava tried her hardest to concentrate on the different triangles Mrs. Vargas drew on the board. The teacher was explaining how to find the third angle when you knew the other two.

Right triangles were easy. The other ones confused her. Obtuse. Acute.

Acute was smaller.
How can I remember that?
she wondered. She thought of her last session with Mrs. Hyde, the learning specialist at the school. Ava had been meeting with Mrs. Hyde ever since she'd been diagnosed with ADHD, to help figure out the best ways for her to study. Mrs. Hyde taught her to make up rhymes or come up with a picture that went with the word.

Acute. A cute. Cute.

Immediately her gaze drifted toward Jack.

Jack was cute. Very cute.

She loved his caramel skin and his shaggy, jet-black hair. She loved how thick his eyelashes were. They made his dark eyes look huge.

She shook her head. They'd tried going out on a sort-of date, but it was way weird. Neither of them knew how to act. Afterward they seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement to just be friends. Shoot hoops at the park, watch sports on TV together, that kind of thing.

Ava was glad.

But she still thought he was cute. No, she thought he was
acute
!

Jack listened to Mrs. Vargas and had no idea Ava was staring at him. It figured! Boys were so clueless.

She tried to listen too. Then she felt it.

At first she wasn't sure what exactly. Just a feeling. A sense.

She blinked rapidly and kept her gaze on the board. Mrs. Hyde had warned her about allowing her mind to wander in class. She couldn't let it happen.
Focus!

Mrs. Vargas called up Megan Schiller to solve a problem. Megan's green marker squeaked on
the whiteboard, as she furiously crossed out several false starts. Ava was proud of herself. She knew the answer. She tapped her pencil impatiently, watching Megan fumble her way through.

The feeling was still there.

The feeling of being watched.

Ava dropped her pencil. Then she swiveled in her seat, pretending to search for it. Her eyes darted around the classroom, and she spotted him.

Owen.

He was staring right at her!

Ava quickly snatched her pencil and turned forward. She shook her head.
He wasn't staring. He was probably just spacing out, because watching Megan cross out number after number is torture,
she reasoned.

Mrs. Vargas finally came to Megan's rescue, and then moved on to a different type of problem. More triangles. More mystery angle measurements.

Ava felt his eyes on her again. Was she imagining it? She tried to stay focused on Mrs. Vargas, but curiosity won out. She turned.

He
was
staring! Immediately Owen whipped his head down, knocking his chin against his chest.

Ava turned back. He looked angry. Was he angry at her? She hadn't done anything.

“Okay. Do I have any volunteers to solve this problem?” Mrs. Vargas asked.

Ava barely glanced at the problem. Instead she remembered Coach K's speech. The team needed Owen to be able to catch. Was she making him angry and causing his problems?

“No one?” Mrs. Vargas frowned. “Ava, why don't you give it a try?”

“Me?” Ava gulped and stood shakily. The entire class now stared at her as she made her way to the front. She had no idea where to even start.

And then the bell rang. Saved! She hoped Mrs. Vargas didn't hear her exhale in relief.

“Next time, you're up, Ava,” Mrs. Vargas called, as Ava hurried back to her desk to scoop up her books.

Ava chased after Owen.
If I can make him my friend, that'll help the team.

“Hey.” She tapped his shoulder as she caught up with him in the doorway.

He flinched but stopped.

“Can you believe how harsh Coach K has been?” Ava asked, as the rest of the class streamed
past. “You know, I don't think it's us. My sister Alex has him for homeroom, and she says he's been really cranky all week.”

Soon they were the only ones in the doorway. Owen didn't answer. He stared at her in surprise. Ava plunged ahead. “You know what drives me crazy? His mirrored sunglasses. I can't see his eyes. I think eyes say a lot about what a person is truly thinking, don't you?”

“I, uh . . .” Owen opened, then closed his mouth. The tips of his ears flamed, and he scowled. Then, without speaking, he turned and pushed his way into the crowd, disappearing down the hallway.

What is with him?
Ava wondered.

“I don't get it,” Ava confided to her friend Kylie McClaire at lunch. “What did I do? Owen acts so weird when I'm around.”

“What makes you think you did something?” Kylie asked. “How do you know he doesn't act weird all the time?” Her dark eyes flashed mischievously. She liked sparking a debate. And Ava liked debating with her.

She was glad that she'd found Kylie in this big school. Kylie was cool without being a slave to the popular girls. Everything about her was unique: She wore metallic beads at the ends of the dozens of thin braids that cascaded down her back. Her fingers each sported a different silver ring. Today she wore red jeans and a cropped black jacket. Plus, she lived on a ranch on the outskirts of Ashland.

Last week, when she called Kylie her best friend, her dad was surprised. “Isn't Alex your best friend?” he'd asked her. She'd explained that Alex was her
other half
, which was much more than a best friend. And totally different.

“Okay, so the boy is weird.” Ava bit into her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She'd eaten the same sandwich for lunch every day since kindergarten. She didn't care that Alex had started bringing salads, because she thought they were more grown-up. She liked PB&Js with no crusts, so why change? “I wish he'd stop staring and glaring, though.”

“There's nothing wrong with weird, you know,” Kylie pointed out. “You don't know what Owen's like at all.”

Ava glanced across the cafeteria to where
Owen sat with Logan, Andy, Ryan, and bunch of the other football boys. “I do know he's really fast and intense on the field.”

“What about off the field?” Kylie picked at her blue nail polish as she spoke. “Owen's really smart.”

“He'd have to be to play wide receiver.”

Kylie gave an exasperated sigh. “Ava, he's about so much more than football! Do you know he reads fantasy? And has smart insights on the plots and the characters?”

“No.” Ava scrunched up her nose. “How do you know that?”

“We read the same books. And we talk about them almost every night,” Kylie said.

“You two talk? How did I not know this?” Ava did a quick mental replay. Sure, she'd suspected Kylie had a little crush on Owen, but when did that turn into late-night book talks?

“Well, not
talk
talk,” Kylie admitted sheepishly. “Chat online. We both belong to the same fantasy forum. He uses the screen name OwenRooney. Boys are so literal. But he doesn't know I'm me. He thinks he's talking to ranchergirl722.”

“So tell him,” Ava encouraged.

Kyle shook her head and peeled a strip of
polish from her thumb. “I can't. I mean, what if I do and then he stops chatting with me?”

Ava stared at her best friend. She'd never seen confident Kylie so unnerved.
She really likes him,
Ava realized.

“I think he would be excited if he found out,” Ava said.

“I don't want to risk it. Besides, I don't think he even knows I go to this school,” Kylie moaned.

“I can talk to him about you,” Ava offered. “I see him at practice every day, and believe me, I'm searching for something to say. I'll talk you up.”

“Really?” Kylie's round face broke into a smile. “But you won't tell him about ranchergirl, promise?”

“I promise. I'll tell him how great you are. I'll get him to notice you,” Ava pledged.

Kylie hugged her. “You are the
best
best friend ever!”

Alex fixed her curls in the bathroom mirror, then applied another layer of shimmery gloss to her lips. She stepped back and took a long, appraising look.

Did she look older than twelve?
Most definitely,
she decided. With the chunky necklace over the collared shirt and the cuffed jeans she'd seen the girls at the high school wearing, she could pass for fourteen. Especially with the thick black mascara she'd bought at the drugstore highlighting her green eyes.

She held up silver hoop earrings to her ears. Would these bring her to fifteen? She really wanted to look fifteen today. Totally sophisticated.

Alex slipped them on, thankful that her dad was out for a run. He'd been in a good mood since the Tigers' victory over the Ravens last night, but even so, he wouldn't approve. He hated makeup and big jewelry.

Alex made her way cautiously down the stairs. The house was quiet. Her mom was in the garage, working on her pottery. She'd set up a mini studio on one side, their red SUV exiled to the driveway. Tommy was . . . well, she had no idea. She recalled him saying something about going to the library, or maybe it was to Whataburger. Probably Whataburger. Food always won out for Tommy.

Her stomach tightened.
Stop it,
she told herself.
You can't be nervous about going into your own kitchen.

But she was.

She paused, listening to the low tones of Ava's and Luke's voices. She wondered if she could convince her parents that she needed a tutor too. Ava was so lucky.

Alex straightened her necklace, took a deep breath, and entered the kitchen.

Luke Grabowski sat next to her sister at the round table. A science textbook lay open between
them. Luke reached across Ava and pointed to a graph, explaining the rate of photosynthesis.

Alex tried not to stare at him, but it was impossible. His pale-blue eyes reminded her of the sky in July. His sandy hair curled adorably near his ears, and when he smiled, he had a dimple in his right cheek. And he was smart. That was why Tommy had suggested having him tutor Ava, who always struggled with homework. Luke was in high school, like Tommy.

When Alex had first met her twin's tutor, she'd gone speechless. Since then, she couldn't stop thinking about him. If anyone could take her mind off cute Corey, it was even-cuter Luke.