Even the Score (9 page)

“Are you ready to play football?” Coach Kenerson barked as Ava jogged onto the field.

“Always ready, Coach!” she called back.

“You don't look ready.” He tilted his head, peering suspiciously at her face.

“Fast feet and steady hands.” Ava ran in place and raised her free hand. In her other hand she grasped her helmet.

Coach K paused as if about to say something, then merely grunted. “Join the others and give me thirty push-ups.”

Ava couldn't believe she'd gotten away with coming to practice with this much makeup on. The girl volleyball players were forced to scrub
their faces in the locker room. For once, being the only girl worked in her favor. Coach K clearly had yet to formulate rules about eyeliner and mascara on his field.

The day had gone surprisingly well, despite how ridiculous she felt. Whenever she saw Owen, she turned on the high-pitched giggles. Everything was
oh so
funny! Kylie had missed lunch to take a makeup quiz, and Ava and Alex had sat together at a small table near Owen. They loudly discussed the pros and cons of getting highlights and ranked their favorite stores at the mall.

The conversation made Ava twitch. Owen must be repulsed by her by now, right?

But she had to be completely sure.

“Hey, Miss Fancy Pants!” Xander crowed.

Ava ignored him and the stupid comments the other boys tossed out, as Coach K paired them up for passing and receiving drills. He kept Corey and Owen together and put Ava with Kal Tippett.

Kal scowled at her. “Hey, Coach, I need a new partner. What if Ava breaks a nail?”

Ava gritted her teeth as the boys' eyes all zeroed in on her newly polished sparkly red nails. She had plenty of biting comebacks ready
for Kal, but she held her tongue, because Owen stood nearby. Instead she giggled.

“Tippett, just throw the ball.” Coach K eyed her again. “And Sackett—catch it.”

Ava wasn't sure how far to go with this helpless girly-girl routine. She didn't want Coach Kenerson forgetting she was as tough as any of the guys on the field. She wondered if she should confide in him. Explain how she was pushing off Owen so he could focus on catching the ball. Let him in on the plan. But she couldn't read his eyes though the lenses of his mirrored sunglasses as he paced the sideline. She feared she'd come off looking even sillier than she was acting.

It's all for the good of the team,
she reminded herself each time she forced herself to giggle and fumble the ball when Owen's gaze traveled her way. As soon as he turned back, she threw herself at the ball, completing the most amazing catches.

Drop, giggle.

Leap and catch.

I can't keep doing this,
she thought. She was confusing even herself.
Time for the secret weapon.

“Can I grab a drink?” she asked Coach MacDonald.

“Make it quick,” he replied.

Ava hurried to the bench and fished inside her gym bag until her fingers wrapped around a small glass bottle. Turning away from the field, Ava pulled it out. One . . . two . . . three huge spritzes.

She fought back a gag as a heavy blanket of lavender perfume settled on her. Whew! That was strong!
One more for good luck.
She gave her neck another huge spray.

“Huddle up!” Corey called, waving the players to him.

Ava jogged over and wriggled her way into the circle, standing purposely next to Owen. He recoiled at the smell of her.

“Does anyone smell that?” he asked.

“It's coming from Ava,” Kal reported. He was on her other side.

“You reek, Sackett!” Xander said.

“You don't like it?” she said innocently, playing it up because none of the coaches were in their huddle.

“You smell like my grandma when she gets all dressed up for a funeral!” Ryan cried.

“It's making my eyes burn,” Owen complained. “I can hardly breathe!”

“Really? I think it smells so nice. Lavender is my absolute favorite scent. I spray it almost
everywhere at home,” she went on.

“Have you lost your mind, Ava?” Corey demanded.

Ava shrugged. “I just wanted to smell nice.”

“I'm going to barf,” Owen declared, backing away from the huddle.

Perfume stink-out was working!

When Luke arrived the next night, Alex was waiting and ready in the kitchen. She'd put on a cute dress with a tiny purple-flower print and her shiny black ballet flats. Around her neck she'd draped several silver necklaces, and she'd added a sparkly clip to her hair.

She busied herself slicing an avocado for her lunch the next day. Her dad and Tommy had gone back to the high school to review game film for Friday's matchup against the Cleary Titans. Mrs. Sackett was out in the garage, working on her pottery.

Alex secretly watched Luke as he sat next to Ava to review her math problems. Pieces of his sandy hair poked out from the sides of his Astros baseball cap.
So cute!

“So what happened with the football dude?” Luke asked.

“I thought I'd scared him away.” Ava explained yesterday's Operation Girly-Girl, and Luke laughed at the perfume attack. “But today, when I came to school in slightly more normal clothes, he was back to giving me goofy grins again. Yesterday was a waste.”

“It was a first step. You need to go at it stronger,” Luke advised.

“Stronger how?” Alex jumped in. She moved closer so he'd be sure to see how pretty she looked.

“More high maintenance,” Luke explained. “More off-the-charts diva.”

“I don't think I can do that,” Ava confided.

“Listen, I'm exactly like Owen. I can't stand girls who are obsessed with fashion and silly drama. I like a natural girl who doesn't freak out if she gets dirty. Ava, you've got to act like the polar opposite to drive him away.” He turned to Alex. “Right, Alex?”

“Right,” she agreed. Then she stared down in horror at her cutesy dress. He didn't like girls who were into fashion? He liked the natural look?

She'd been going about this all wrong!

Ava flopped onto her bed. If Luke hadn't shown up tonight, there was no way she would've been able to finish her homework. Everything was such a mess!

She gazed down at her phone resting in her palm, hoping for a message from Kylie.

Nothing.

Should I try her again?
she wondered.

Kylie had avoided her at school the last two days, meeting with teachers during lunch and avoiding her in the halls. Ava had texted a million apologies. She'd even tucked a note in her friend's locker.

But Kylie stayed silent. And Ava felt worse and worse.

If we'd been friends longer, then Kylie would know that I'm not a backstabber,
she thought.
I would never hurt my friends.

Ava dug her laptop out from under a pile of sweatshirts and pajamas. She logged on to the school e-mail portal.

Nothing from Kylie.

She clicked on a message marked
Important
from Logan Medina.

SIGN OUR PETITION TO GET BACK THE SCOREBOARD
appeared on her screen.

Ava quickly read the document. A bunch of football players had banded together to convince the school's administration to overturn the student council's decision. They wanted what was promised to them. And they wanted Ava to sign their petition.

She quickly counted the signatures. Thirty-four. That was a lot.

She kind of agreed that they were owed the scoreboard, but she would never do that to Alex. She wasn't going to sign it. Sisters always came first.

She wondered if Alex knew about the petition. Her bedroom door had been closed when Ava had come upstairs.

Her phone buzzed, and Ava sat up.
Is that Kylie?

No, it was Jack.

How's your boyfriend?

Ava groaned.

I do not have a boyfriend!!!

Not what I hear.

You heard wrong!!!

Football guys say you do. Owen!

They're so wrong!

She didn't want Jack thinking she and Owen were a couple. Jack was the one she liked hanging out with. Was Owen going to mess that up too?

Ava's eyes returned to the petition, still open on her screen. Even though she wasn't going to sign it, she felt like she should do something to stop it. But what?

Ava left her room in search of Alex. Alex's
door now lay open. The door of the small bathroom they shared was closed, and she heard the drumming of the shower.

Ava pounded on the bathroom door.

“I'll be out in a minute!” Alex yelled back.

Ava snorted.
That
wasn't true. Alex would be in there for at least twenty minutes, deep-conditioning her long hair. Ava considered barging in and talking through the striped shower curtain as she often did, but she knew Alex hated that. She'd find her mom instead. She would know how to handle the petition.

“Are you in here?” she called when she entered the garage. Her mom's potter's wheel, kiln, and drying racks of finished pots took up one side. The other side overflowed with boxes and rolls of bubble wrap, along with the lawn mower, bikes, and random sports equipment.

“Always,” her mom called from behind a tall stack of boxes.

Ava spotted her mother cross-legged on the floor, attaching shipping labels.

“I need to wrap all the pieces, then pack and seal the boxes to get them to the post office tomorrow.” Her hair fell into her face, and she brushed it away. “I have a rhythm going. If I keep
at it, I'll get it done. Everything okay, pumpkin?”

Ava hesitated. She didn't want to bother her mom while she was so busy.

Her phone, which she had carried out with her, buzzed. Probably Jack again. “Well,” she started, about to offer to help write labels, when she noticed the name on the screen.
Kylie!

“All's good now!” Ava ducked back into the house. She sat on the sofa in the dark family room, not bothering to turn on any lights, to read Kylie's long text.

Kylie now believed that Ava truly didn't like Owen. Plus, she missed her best friend.

Ava had missed her, too.

Ava texted her back and explained to her how Alex had found out all the things Owen didn't like, Luke's plan, and her makeover.

Your crazy outfit! I had no idea what that was about. Sorry, but bad plan. You need to tell him outright.

That feels harsh.

It's not fair to let him think you like
him or want the bracelet. He's a nice guy. You be nice too!

Ava stretched out on the sofa, considering. She didn't want to hurt Owen, yet she knew Kylie was right. Telling him the truth was the only way.

Alex emerged from the bathroom in her pink robe and matching slippers, with her wet hair pulled into two braids. In the morning, when she undid the braids, her waves would fall perfectly.

“Ave? What's up with the pounding?” she called, poking her head into her twin's bedroom.

Ava wasn't there. Alex shook her head. Ava's bedroom was such a disaster! Clothes everywhere. Smelly sneakers and sports magazines. An empty bag of chips. Alex and her mom had worked so hard to paint and decorate Ava's room in complementary blues, greens, and corals, but the effect was lost with the colossal mess.

Ava couldn't understand why her mess bothered Alex if she didn't sleep there, but it did. Alex entered and tossed the chip bag in the trash. She reached to straighten Ava's comforter, bumping
her laptop, which was wedged by a pile of pajamas. The heading on the screen screamed out at her.

A petition for the scoreboard?
Alex pulled the laptop closer. Her mouth dropped open as she counted all the signatures. So many! She read the note the players had sent to Ava:
WE MUST STICK TOGETHER NO MATTER WHAT. OUR TEAM IS OUR FAMILY.

Ava hadn't responded. She hadn't said,
No way.
She hadn't said,
My sister is my family, and she made the right choice.
Instead she'd left the page open. As if she were thinking about it. As if she were going to sign.