A Lot to Tackle (10 page)

“That wasn't what happened,” Ava said. “Corey told me on Saturday that he was going to end things, but—”

“
Saturday?
” Lindsey shrieked. “You knew then and never told me?”

“Or me,” Alex added so quietly that only Ava heard.

Ava shot her twin a guilty look, then turned
to Lindsey. “He swore me to secrecy. I tried to talk to him about it. I really did.”

“I don't get why
you
were giving advice to Lindsey's boyfriend,” Emily put in.

“I wasn't. I only told him to do it nicely,” Ava explained. She felt as if she were on trial. “I'm friends with both of you.”

“If you were really my friend, shouldn't you be telling him
not
to do it?” Lindsey demanded. “Or did you want him to break up with me? Maybe this was your idea.”

“It had nothing to do with me.” Ava felt that fluttery, nervous sensation she got before a test. She never felt comfortable on the spot in front of big groups of girls. She searched the cafeteria for Corey. He and the other guys had fled. She wished she could go too.

“It's like you were plotting against me,” Lindsey said.

“I wasn't.” Ava didn't know how to make Lindsey believe her.

“Why did he do it? Tell me what he said,” Lindsey prodded.

“I don't want to talk about it,” Ava said. Kylie gently grabbed her elbow and tried to get her to stand up so they could leave.

“You're trying to protect your football buddy,” Lindsey accused.

“No, I'm not,” Ava insisted. “It wasn't like the breakup was all of a sudden. He mentioned it once before—”

“And you never told me?” Lindsey cried.

At that moment, the bell rang. Ava had never been so happy to escape to English class. She grabbed her lunch bag and notebooks and edged herself around Lindsey. “I'm sorry,” she said sincerely. Then she walked away.

Alex caught up. “What are you sorry for?”

“I don't know. I guess that she's sad, because Corey broke up with her,” Ava said. “I didn't do anything wrong. Corey didn't either, really.”

“I don't get how you can side with him,” Alex said.

“I don't want to be involved,” Ava said.

“But you are. I am too.” Alex stopped in the middle of the crowded hall. “I'm on Lindsey's side. Are you with us?”

“No,” Ava said. “I'm not taking sides.”

Alex kept waiting for things to turn around. She thought maybe on Tuesday, when she got an A on her science lab, the old Alex was back. Then, when she'd been working on her social studies paper on her laptop, she'd forgotten to hit save, and as she switched screens to look up a fact, the entire paper disappeared.
Poof!
All that work, for nothing.

Lindsey joined her, walking around school in a funk. The girls and boys in their group weren't speaking, each side blaming the other for how the breakup went down. Alex felt the tension Lindsey and Corey had created.
Ava and I helped create it too,
she thought.

She was angry with Ava for not telling her about Corey's feelings. If she had, Alex would never have made that scrapbook. Then Lindsey would never have messed up sending it out, and Corey wouldn't have gotten angry and maybe they'd still be together.

Ava kept trying not to take sides, and as a result both the girls and now the boys were annoyed with her. She had been sticking with Kylie, and she and Alex hadn't spoken much.

On Wednesday, Mrs. Sackett had left instructions for Alex and Ava to bake the frozen lasagna she'd made because she had to go out to help the Booster Club assemble boxed dinners for the team to eat on the bus ride to Austin. Alex read the handwritten instructions, then set the note aside without turning on the oven. Why bother? She was sure to mess up even something as simple as sliding the pan into the oven. Ava didn't bother either.

Their mom was angry, but she seemed to forget about it as she rushed to pack everyone for Austin. All week Coach and Tommy had been at the field, practicing for the game. Mrs. Sackett had been busy with a new order of blue-glazed pots after her blog fame. They
ended up ordering pizza. No one noticed that a gray cloud had settled over the Sackett twins.

“Everyone ready?” Mrs. Sackett asked on Thursday afternoon. “How fun will this be? The big game? And traveling to Austin? And staying in a hotel with all your friends?”

“Great,” Alex said halfheartedly, trying to show the excitement that everyone around her felt.

The marching band paraded through the high school parking lot, blasting a syncopated rendition of “Eye of the Tiger.” The dance team followed in high-kicking rows, their orange-and-blue sequined leotards glittering in the sun. The cheerleaders, who'd painted their faces to resemble fierce tigers, led the crowd in a wild roar. Hundreds of people, young and old, had come out to see the team off.

Alex spotted the middle school banner and sighed with relief.
GO ASHLAND TIGERS!
The typo had been fixed, and Mrs. Gusman hadn't asked her to pay.

The entire football team, plus coaches and trainers and Mr. Whittaker, piled onto two yellow
school buses painted with black tiger stripes. They'd been scheduled to depart thirty minutes ago, but the festivities had run long.

“There's Tommy,” she said when she spotted their brother's face in one of the front windows.

“Hey, look.” Ava pointed to a window several rows back. “Is that PJ Kelly? Is he playing?”

“You know it, Sackett!” Andy Baker pushed in beside them. He stood with his parents and the entire Kelly family, who seemed to have brought dozens of blond-haired cousins. “PJ is QB number one. He's tough. He beat back that cold, and he's going to beat back the Crawford Colts. You can tell your bro to get comfy on the bench. State will be the PJ Show!”

“Andy!” Mrs. Kelly said. She turned to Mrs. Sackett and smiled sweetly. “My nephew didn't mean that.”

Ava gritted her teeth and gave Alex a sideways glance. Andy
definitely
meant that. Alex had hoped PJ would get better so Tommy didn't have to play. She knew how nervous he was. Now she wanted her big brother on the field to show up Andy's cousin big-time.

“State! State! State!” Someone by the buses started the chant, and the entire crowd joined in. Alex found herself joining in as her dad shook
Mayor Johnston's hand and waved to all the supporters.

“Do you think he's going to make a speech?” Alex asked Ava.

“Nah. Coach saves his speeches for the locker room,” Ava said. “Look! They're going!”

The buses beeped their horns and began to inch forward. Cheerleaders, dancers, and the marching band members scattered to various corners of the parking lot to board their own buses. Families retreated to their cars to follow the different buses on the three-hour journey to Austin.

“Hurry, girls.” Mrs. Sackett led them to their red SUV. Ava had scrawled
TIGERS RULE
on the side windows with white paint marker.

Alex and Ava both opened the back doors.

“No one wants to sit up front with me?” Mrs. Sackett tucked her long brown hair behind her ears.

Alex looked at Ava. Ava shrugged. “Not so much,” they both said at the same time.

“You usually fight to sit in the front. What's going on? Oh, the bus is moving! Close the doors and buckle up,” she instructed, sliding in behind the wheel. “I need to keep the bus in sight. I'm a bit iffy on the directions, so I don't want to lose sight of them.”

Alex staked out her side of the backseat. She popped in her earbuds. She glanced over at Ava. Her sister had done the same. An invisible line was drawn between them.

At least we don't have to squeeze back here with Moxy,
Alex thought. They'd left their dog with Kylie's dad, who was staying home. Moxy loved to run around the ranch.

Alex watched her mom pull out behind the tiger-striped bus and head down the road that led out of Ashland. Alex chewed her bottom lip. Should she offer to navigate? Her mother said she was better at it than their GPS app, but surely she'd mess it up. Messing up seemed to be her new thing. Instead she turned up the volume of the next song.

They traveled through Texas farmland, keeping mostly to rural back roads. The bus stayed directly in front of them. Many parents sped ahead of the slow buses, eager to reach Austin. Only a few followed behind. After an hour, Ava dozed off. Mrs. Sackett sang along to the country radio station. Alex slipped out one earbud to listen. Her mom's deep voice brought more warmth to the song than the singer who'd made it famous.

“You could do that,” Alex said.

“Do what?” Mrs. Sackett asked, still humming.

“Sing on the radio. Don't you want to?” Alex asked.

Mrs. Sackett chuckled. “I used to. When I was your age, I dreamed of singing in front of a huge audience.”

“So?” Alex demanded.

“So what?” Her mom shrugged. “Sometimes dreams don't happen. I got sidetracked, I guess, and gave up on it. But I sing now with the church choir, and I have my art.”

“But did you ever
try?
” Alex asked.

Mrs. Sackett shook her head. “I probably wasn't good enough . . . oh!”

They both heard a
thump!
Then a rattle.

“What's that?” Alex cried.

Her mom struggled with the steering wheel. The car wobbled, then jerked to the left. They bumped onto the shoulder of the road. Her foot slammed on the brakes.

“Hey!” Ava jolted awake.

Their mom turned off the car and sighed. “I think we just got a flat tire.”

Alex reached for her door handle.

“No! Don't get out. You'll get hit by another car!” Mrs. Sackett cried. She clicked on the hazard lights.

Alex gazed at the surrounding farmland. The cars traveling behind hadn't yet reached them.
I'd sooner get run down by one of the brown cows far off in the field than a car,
she thought. But since Mrs. Sackett's brow had wrinkled with a worried look, she stayed put.

“I'm calling Coach.” Ava lifted her phone and quickly spoke to their dad.

Alex watched out the front window as the bus backed up, then stopped. Her dad stepped out and jogged a few feet down the side of the road. With his hand, he kept his orange baseball cap from flying off his head in the breeze. Mrs. Sackett met him, and together they surveyed the back left tire.

“How much longer to Austin?” Ava asked Alex.

Alex quickly calculated the distance. “Maybe a little less than two hours?”

“How long does it take to change a tire?” Ava asked.

“Beats me. I've never done that. Why?” Alex asked.

“The team has a practice in the Austin stadium at seven o'clock tonight. It's their only practice on the field before the game tomorrow. They can't miss it,” Ava said.

Alex did the math. Even without changing the tire, getting to the stadium would be tight.

The trunk popped open. “Hey, girls.” Their dad grinned in at them. Then he stepped back, as he took in all the suitcases, comforters, pillows, and stuffed animals that crowded the space. “What's with all this? Hotels have bedding.”

“I like my flannel comforter, Coach. You know that,” Ava said. She hated rough blankets.

“And I can't sleep without my own pillow,” Alex said.

“And without Poppet,” Ava added.

Alex reached over the seat and snatched her bedraggled, barely stuffed rabbit. She'd slept with Poppet forever. Going to bed without her pale-pink bunny felt wrong.

“Scoot out and help me unload this stuff. I need to unearth the spare tire and a jack.” Coach began piling their bags behind the car.

Alex stepped into the slightly cool air. The sky showed hints of purple. The sun would soon set. The high school boys pressed their faces against the back windows of the bus. She felt ridiculous holding Poppet under her arm.
They must think I'm a silly little kid,
she thought.

She perched Poppet on top of the suitcases
and comforters that created a wall around the back of the car. She watched her dad pry the silver hubcap off the tire.

Her phone buzzed. Tommy texted.

Are you guys OK? Driver won't let me off bus. School rules.

Flat tire.

Alex planned to write more, but then she heard Mr. Whittaker.

“Mike! Mike! What is going on?” Mr. Whittaker, his belly straining against a too-tight Ashland High sweatshirt, hurried off the bus and down the road toward them.

“Flat tire, Floyd,” Mrs. Sackett explained.

“Listen, darlin', I'm sorry about that. Tough break, but you've got a spare, so you'll be fine. Mike, we need you back on the bus,” Mr. Whittaker said.

“I don't know how to change a tire,” their mom admitted. “I'm sorry, Floyd.”

“Laura, some other fine person will help you. Aha! Here comes the cavalry!” Two other cars pulled up several feet behind them.