by Belle Payton
CHAPTER
ONE
“Perfect.”
Alex Sackett stared down at the pale-yellow wrap dress she’d laid out on her bed and nodded with satisfaction. Combined with her brand-new, first-ever pair of cowboy boots, it would be just the right first-day-of-school outfit. She even had a matching yellow headband to wear with it. Whew! Alex thought. Talk about a down-to-the-wire decision. School starts tomorrow!
She frowned at the heap of discarded clothes on the floor. She’d had to try on half her wardrobe before arriving at the perfect combo, so it was going to take a while to get her room back in shape. And she still had new vocabulary cards to memorize—she tried to memorize five each day.
Alex guessed that her twin sister, Ava, was not laying out her school outfit or memorizing vocab words. Ava wasn’t someone you’d describe as a slave to fashion. Just last week she’d appeared at breakfast wearing one of their brother Tommy’s T-shirts, inside out. Nor was Ava the plan-ahead type. Alex hoped that maybe this year she’d be able to convince Ava to try getting her stuff ready the night before, so their mornings would be less rushed. Alex loved her twin sister, but she could be pretty disorganized.
The smell of cookies wafted up the stairs, and Alex heard the oven door slam.
“Al! Tommy! Cookies!” yelled Ava from the kitchen.
With one backward glance at the outfit she’d chosen—maybe she should go with the green dress instead?—Alex headed downstairs.
“Second batch will be out in just a couple more minutes,” said their dad, Mike Sackett—or Coach, as Ava and Tommy called him. He had tied on one of Mrs. Sackett’s ruffled aprons, which made Alex giggle. It was a funny accessory on such a big, athletic-looking guy, complemented by the flowery oven mitts he wore to pull cookies out of the oven. Coach loved to bake, and it was a Sackett family tradition to have milk and cookies the night before the first day of school.
“Got that outfit all set, Al?” asked Ava with a mischievous grin as Alex poured herself a glass of milk. Ava was sitting at the kitchen table, with their school schedules side by side in front of her. They had gone to Ashland Middle School earlier that day to pick them up and take a tour.
“Ave, don’t tease your sister,” said Coach as he transferred cookies to a cooling rack. Moxy, the Sacketts’ energetic Australian shepherd, sat beneath him, waiting hopefully for a cookie to fall to the floor. “It’s natural to be a little nervous for your first day at a new school. New town. New state. It’s a big change.”
“I’m not nervous so much as apprehensive,” said Alex, who liked to work her vocab words into sentences as often as possible. She sat down next to her sister to look at their schedules.
“We don’t have a single class together,” said Ava with a frown. “Not even homeroom.”
“We have the same lunch period,” Alex noticed.
“You have Mr. Kenerson, the middle school football coach, for homeroom,” Ava said, pointing to the name at the top of Alex’s schedule.
“Oh, great,” she said, blowing back a stray curly tendril that had escaped her ponytail. “You’re the one who knows football, but I get the coach. He’ll probably expect me to know every play in Daddy’s playbook.”
“Maybe it’ll inspire you to learn a little about the game,” said Ava. Their dad set a platter of cookies in front of them, and she helped herself to one of the biggest ones, which was still gooey in the center. “I mean, we have just moved to a football-crazy part of Texas, and our dad is the head coach at the high school.”
“Studying up on the rules is definitely on my to-do list,” said Alex. “Look, you have Ms. Kerry for homeroom. She’s my math teacher.”
“Awesome, she’ll expect me to be as brilliant as my twin sister,” said Ava drily.
Just then their mother burst into the kitchen with the phone in her hand. Her eyes were shining. “Guess what? I just got my first big—and I mean big—order!”
“Aw, honey, that’s terrific!” said Coach. He tugged off his oven mitts and gave her a hug.
“What’s the order for, Mom?” asked Alex. Their mother was a potter, and Alex had recently helped her create a new website to sell her pieces.
“Remember Katie McCabe, Daddy’s colleague back at the old school in Massachusetts? She’s registering with me for her wedding!” said Mrs. Sackett. “I’ll be making plates, bowls, coffee cups, serving platters—the works!”
“I knew your business would take off fast,” said Alex. “You’re so talented, Mom.”
“Of course she’s talented,” said their older brother, Tommy, walking into the kitchen with his easy athletic gait. “Where do you think I get all my talents from?” He grinned and put an arm around his mother’s shoulders. Alex was still not used to seeing her sixteen-year-old brother looming over their mom. He’d probably grown six inches in the past six months. He was looking more and more like their dad every day—he wasn’t as bulky as Coach yet, but he was getting there.
“It’s going to be a busy next few weeks, Michael,” said Mrs. Sackett, helping herself to a cookie. “I was talking with April Cahill earlier today, and she casually mentioned that as the coach’s wife, I’m more or less expected to plan a barbecue for the team for Homecoming weekend. And evidently your predecessor’s wife gave each player a towel with his initials embroidered on it!” She shook her head and chuckled in disbelief.
Alex studied her dad’s face. He laughed along with her mom, but it was an uneasy laugh.
Mrs. Sackett must have noticed this too. She raised her eyebrows. “What?” she said, laughing. “You don’t seriously think I should take up embroidery, do you, hon?”
“Oh, no, no, of course not, Laur,” said Coach as he put a large football-shaped cookie down in front of Tommy. “But you know as well as I do that the role of a coach’s wife comes with its own set of expectations and pressures.”
Mrs. Sackett sighed and took a bite of her cookie. “I know,” she conceded. “It’s just that it’s a bigger deal here than it was in Boston,” she said. “Every time I turn around, people ask me about the team, your strategies. The newspapers call practically every day. And now I’ve got this huge order.”
“You should concentrate on building your business, Mom,” said Tommy as he stood up from the table, his cookie only half-eaten. “So we can afford that piano.”
“There he goes with the piano again,” said Alex to Ava in a low voice.
Tommy gave his dad a playful block with his shoulder as he headed out of the kitchen. A couple of minutes later they heard the sound of his keyboard up in his room.
Their mom and dad exchanged a look.
“Something bothering Tommy?” asked Mrs. Sackett.
Coach shrugged. “I think he’s a little bent out of shape that he’s third-string quarterback, behind PJ Kelly and Dion Bell. But he’s still growing—he’s got the talent to be a really fine quarterback. He doesn’t have to give up on football yet!” he joked.
“But maybe with my business starting to grow, we should consider getting that piano he’s been asking about,” said Mrs. Sackett thoughtfully.
Coach turned back to his tray of cookies. “It’s just a phase. Football and music just don’t mix.”
Now it was Ava and Alex’s turn to exchange a look. Alex didn’t think Tommy’s love of music was “just a phase.”
Ava slid out of her chair. “Thanks for the snack, Coach,” she said, and headed upstairs.
Ava heard Tommy playing an old-time jazz piece and quietly let herself into his room. She sat on his bed as he finished.
“That sounded great,” she said. “You’re really good, Tommy.”
He shrugged. “It would be nice to have a real piano,” he said. “But I think Coach would sooner put
a gridiron in the backyard than buy one.” He plunked himself down onto the bed next to her. “I did discover a really great piano—a Steinway baby grand!—at the church on the corner. And they said I can play it anytime I want as long as there isn’t a service going on.”
Ava loved how psyched her brother got when he talked about music. “Is there a piano at the high school, too?”
Tommy’s blue eyes danced. “Yup, several. And I think they maintain them pretty well. I’m going to the info session for the concert jazz band after school tomorrow.”
“How can you be in the band, with football? Are you going to change uniforms for the halftime show?”
“It’s not the marching band, goofball,” he said, grinning. “It would be hard to march with a piano. But the concert jazz band is really good. Rehearsals are last period during sports study hall. That’s when we’re supposed to be in the trainer’s, getting taped and suited up for practice. So it might mean I’m a few minutes late for practice twice a week, but whatever. I’m only the third-string QB, Ave. And this is an incredible group.”
Ava swallowed down a worried lump that had risen in her throat. “Music is really important to you,” she said. “You’re right, you should at least go to the info session. Maybe you and Coach could work something out,” she added, but her voice faltered a little. She was pretty sure Coach wouldn’t care how incredible the concert band was—she wasn’t sure if he would ever understand if his own son, a talented athlete, chose piano over football.
“Thanks, pal,” said Tommy. “Now get out of here. I have to pick out my outfit for tomorrow.”
An hour later Ava joined her sister to wash up in the small bathroom the girls shared. It wasn’t quite the same as sharing a bedroom, as they’d done back at their old house in Massachusetts, and it was pretty cramped for two, but they’d learned to take turns at the sink, and the bathroom was quickly becoming the girls’ favorite place to touch base and recap their days together.
“So, Ave,” said Alex briskly, rinsing off her electric toothbrush and putting it back in its charger. “Do you promise me you’ll get up on time? Maybe even a little earlier than usual, so our first morning isn’t the usual mad rush for the bus? It’s stressful enough starting a new school. I don’t want to be stressed waiting for you, too.”
“Yes, I promise,” said Ava, running a comb through her short wavy dark-brown hair. She’d had long hair like her identical twin until very recently, when she’d gotten a dramatically shorter cut so it was easier to play sports. At first Alex had been really upset with Ava for making such a drastic change without talking to her first, but the twins had since talked about it and made up. Now Alex called Ava’s haircut “adorable” so often that Ava wondered if Alex was going to cut her hair too. “I’m going to set my alarm clock and set an alarm on my phone, and I’m going to put them both across the room so I can’t fall back asleep.”
“Good,” said Alex, but Ava could still see little lines of tension in her neck. She and Alex had always shared a near-telepathic ability to read each other’s moods and feelings, and Ava could tell Alex was nervous about their first day at Ashland Middle School. Ava was too—sixth grade in Boston was still a part of elementary school, so this was the first year the twins would be switching classes. Ava sometimes had a hard time keeping track of assignments with one teacher; she wasn’t sure how well she would be able to handle having six teachers. She gave herself a little shake as she rinsed off her toothbrush. It would be okay.
Alex paused at the doorway to her room and turned back toward Ava. “It’s going to be a great first day of school, right, Ave?”
Ava smiled back at her. “It’s going to be awesome.”
CHAPTER
TWO
“Gahhhh!”
Alex gave a loud cry of exasperation. She finished her eggs and slammed her fork onto her plate. Ava had overslept. Even though she’d promised Alex over and over again last night that she wouldn’t. Alex had heard both of Ava’s alarms blaring at 6:25 while she was in the bathroom putting the finishing touches on her hair. She had even called to Ava to be sure she was awake, and Ava had assured her that she was.
But then she hadn’t appeared at breakfast, and now it was seven o’clock. The bus was due to arrive at 7:20, and they’d been told to be at the stop at least fifteen minutes early because bus routes on the first day of school were always chaotic.
“You go on,” said Mrs. Sackett, thrusting Alex’s lunch into her hands and propelling her toward the kitchen door. “I’ll make sure Ava’s right behind you.”
Alex gave one last glance at her harried-looking mother. Her long wavy hair was uncombed and wild, and over her cotton pajama bottoms she wore one of Coach’s old Texans T-shirts that was way too big for her. Even in this disheveled state, Alex noted, her mom still looked pretty.
“Go!” said Mrs. Sackett.
Alex went.
She didn’t want to be seen running to the bus stop on her first day of school, but she set out at a brisk race-walk. Her nearly empty brand-new backpack bumped up and down with each step. The air was already warm, despite the time of day, and promised to be blazing and humid later. But Alex was getting used to the heat here in Texas. Sort of.
She rounded the corner and saw a line of four kids. She slowed her pace to a casual walk. They all turned to regard her as she said, “Good morning!” and they nodded back. Three of the kids looked like sixth graders, but one boy looked like an eighth grader. He carried what might be a French horn case and wore pressed khaki pants and leather lace-up shoes, despite the impending heat of the day.
In the distance Alex heard the psshhh of air brakes, and a second later the yellow school bus was visible, turning the corner at the other end of the block, heading in their direction.
Alex glanced worriedly behind her. Could it be possible that Ava was going to miss the bus on the first day of school? Her heart sank. She’d been so sure Ava was going to have her act together this morning.
Just a second or two later, Ava came careening around the opposite corner at a full sprint. Alex closed her eyes with a pained expression, and then opened them again. Ava’s striped tank top was half tucked in, the hem on the right side hanging a good three inches lower than the left. In one hand she carried her partly unzipped backpack, and in the other, a half-eaten bagel with peanut butter.
Ava made it to the bus stop in a dead heat with the school bus, skidding to a stop at the end of the line just as the bus doors swished open.
The boy with the French horn took an alarmed step back as Ava bent over to catch her breath and almost dropped her bagel.
“Close call, Ave,” said Alex in a low voice. “You really had me worried.”
Ava stood back up and followed her sister onto the bus. “I had it all planned,” she said with mock casualness, although she was clearly still out of breath from her sprint. “I just wanted to add a little bit of excitement to our first day of school.”
Alex rolled her eyes as she and her sister found an empty seat toward the middle of the bus. “Ave, has anyone ever told you how exasperating you can be as a sister?”
“Yep,” said Ava with a twinkle in her green eyes. “You have. Frequently.”
They got to school before the first bell and were able to remember the way to their lockers, which, thankfully, were right next to each other.
“This place looks really different when it’s full of kids,” said Ava. She rotated her wrist to peer at the locker combination she’d written in pen on the palm of her hand. “It’s about eleven times the size of our old school.”
“Think of it like a big plus sign,” said Alex. “There are four wings: North, South, East, and West. Remember what they told us on the tour yesterday? The gym is in the middle, and the cafeteria is on the second floor, just above it.” She trailed off. “Ave? Are you even listening to what I’m saying? What? Did you forget something?”
“Um, yeah, sort of. My schedule,” said Ava.
“Oh
no!” moaned Alex.
The first bell rang, and the hallways swelled with kids, now moving at a faster pace to get to their homerooms.
“It’s fine,” said Ava. “My homeroom is right here, in the S wing. I remember that from the tour. I’m sure Ms. Kerry will be able to give me a new schedule, and besides, I think I remember every class—except when my English is.”
Alex nodded and closed her locker. She moved closer to her sister and held out her fist, down low, so that Ava could bump it with her own. “Good luck,” she said under her breath.
“You too. See you at lunch,” said Ava, and off they went in opposite directions.
The first person Alex saw when she entered Mr. Kenerson’s classroom was Lindsey Davis surrounded by a group of girls Alex didn’t know. The second bell hadn’t yet rung, so kids were standing around in clumps exclaiming over new haircuts, summer tans, and cute outfits.
As Alex stood near the doorway, assessing where the best tactical place to sit might be—close to the popular girls, but not so close as to suggest she thought she was already in the group—Lindsey smiled and waved her over.
Thank goodness, Alex thought. She had only met Lindsey once, but she had already figured out that Lindsey was pretty popular . . . and Alex hadn’t exactly made the best first impression. Grateful for the chance to change that, she walked over and joined Lindsey’s group.
“Guys, this is Alex,” said Lindsey. “Alex Sackett.”
Had she emphasized Alex’s last name in a meaningful, nudge-nudge, do-you-know-who-this-is kind of way? Alex couldn’t be sure. She wished Ava were here.
The girls all smiled and said hi, although Lindsey didn’t tell Alex what their names were. To fill the awkward moment, Alex turned to Lindsey and said brightly, “I love your hair up like that!”
“Thanks,” said Lindsey. “Your dress is really cute.”
“Oh, thanks.” Alex flicked at it casually, as though she hadn’t put hours of thought into choosing her first-day-of-school outfit. “I got it at Cooper and Hunt last week.”