Two Cool for School
Page 2
Lindsey’s smile twitched to a frown, and then became a smile again, although not quite as bright as before.
Alex wondered what she’d said wrong. Then she remembered what she’d heard about Lindsey’s family. Lindsey’s cousin Jack had told Ava that they were having financial troubles. Oh, great! Cooper & Hunt was kind of expensive, so now Lindsey probably thought she was spoiled and wealthy. “I got it on the clearance rack at the end-of-summer sale,” she put in hastily. “It’s amazing what you can get on clearance.” She felt an urge to keep speaking, to smooth over the awkwardness. “I almost never buy clothes full price at Cooper and Hunt, because it’s way overpriced. They have good sales, though.”
Lindsey raised her eyebrows.
The bell rang, and Mr. Kenerson told everyone to take a seat.
Alex slid miserably into her chair. Was Lindsey offended? Maybe she should have just said thank you and not gone on about buying stuff on clearance. She was just trying to make Lindsey feel better!
Mr. Kenerson was taking attendance. Alex sat up straighter and paid attention to the names. The sooner she learned who was who, the sooner she could start moving forward with her plans to ascend to the top of the student government. Alex had been sixth-grade class president at her old school in Boston, and she was hoping to continue her reign here in Texas.
“Alexandra Sackett,” Mr. Kenerson droned, and then his eyebrows furrowed and he looked up, startled.
“Here!” said Alex, shooting her hand up into the air.
“Are you Coach Sackett’s daughter?” he asked, and the rustling of papers and snapping of binders suddenly ceased. Alex could feel the whole room go quiet, staring at her.
“Um, yes,” she said. For the first time she noticed that Mr. Kenerson had Ashland Tigers pennants on his wall, and his paperweight and wastepaper basket were emblazoned with the Tigers’ logo. Her stomach did a little flip. Uh-oh.
“How’s the team look so far?” asked Mr. Kenerson, fixing her with a keen stare. Alex could easily conjure up a visual of him in his coaching attire, a whistle around his neck.
“Um, okay, I think,” said Alex. “The first game’s a week from Friday, so—”
“Does your father like the idea of his corners jamming the wideouts, or will they play off?”
Alex prayed for a miracle. Maybe the ceiling would cave in. Or the fire alarm would go off. “I don’t, um, really follow—”
“Now really, Mr. K, just because her dad’s the coach doesn’t mean she’s an expert, does it?”
Alex turned. Lindsey had saved her!
“What’s that? Oh, right. Sorry. Got carried away there,” said Mr. Kenerson sheepishly. He stared back down at his clipboard. “Moving along.”
“And besides,” Lindsey continued, “doesn’t that strategy depend on how confident he is that his front four can apply pressure?”
Alex gaped at her.
“Well, I suppose that’s true,” mused Mr. Kenerson, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He continued with the roll call.
Alex’s eyes were wide with astonishment and gratitude. “Thanks for jumping in!” she whispered to Lindsey. “I had no idea you knew so much about football!”
Lindsey smiled back at her, a hint of triumph in her expression. “No worries,” she said. “You learn a thing or two when you’ve been cheering as long as I have.”
“Oh, right,” said Alex. “And cheerleading starts up soon, doesn’t it?”
Lindsey shrugged. “Yeah, well, I’m still deciding if I’m even going out for the squad again,” she said. She suddenly became very interested in organizing her pencil case.
Once again Alex felt baffled, like she’d said the exact wrong thing to Lindsey.
CHAPTER
THREE
Ava and Alex had arranged a meeting location near the cafeteria, and Ava was glad when she spotted her sister through a gap in the throngs of kids hurrying to get in line.
“Hey,” said Ava, slightly out of breath.
“Hey,” said Alex. “How’s it going?”
Ava hesitated. “Okay, I guess. I was late for science because I got lost. It’s a really big school.”
They headed toward the cafeteria together. It was easy to find—all they had to do was follow the stream of kids and the smell of pizza.
Alex nodded vigorously. “I was almost late for social studies. And people keep asking me football questions I can’t answer.”
“Yeah, I’m thinking of changing my last name,” said Ava with a grim smile.
“Oh! Look! There’s Emily and Lindsey sitting at that table over there!” said Alex, and she began waving an arm at them as though she were landing an airplane.
Ava looked. She put a restraining hand on her sister’s arm, but Alex shrugged it away.
“Come on. Let’s go sit with them,” said Alex, and marched off in their direction.
“Al, their table already looks pretty full,” Ava called after her, but she knew it was useless to try to talk her sister out of something once she had set her mind to it. She followed Alex unhappily.
“Hey, guys!” said Alex, flashing a dazzling smile.
“Alex!” said Emily, seeming genuinely pleased. “You look so cute! I love your cowboy boots!”
Ava had been hanging back, but now she stepped forward. Maybe they will let us sit with them, she thought.
“Mind if Ava and I squeeze in with you guys?” asked Alex, pointing to the empty space between Emily and Lindsey.
“Oh, sorry,” said Lindsey, cocking her head to one side and pursing her glossy lips. “We promised Annelise and Rosa we’d save these seats for them.”
“That’s fine,” said Ava quickly. “There are tons of empty tables still.” She tried to drag Alex away.
Lindsey gestured to the lunch bags the girls were carrying. “Did you guys bring your own?” she asked. “Cafeteria pepperoni pizza not doing it for you?”
Lindsey’s tone was friendly, but Ava could detect an edge to it.
Alex looked flustered. “Well, I’m a vegetarian,” she admitted. “And our dad likes to make our lunches for us.”
Ava spoke up quickly. “The food at our old school wasn’t great,” she said. “So we just got used to bringing our own.”
“That’s so cute that he makes your lunch,” said Emily, and she seemed sincere.
“And I guess you’ll get used to Texan dining eventually,” said Lindsey. “There are one or two vegetarians somewhere here in the state, or so I’ve been told.”
Ava scanned the crowd for open seats and tugged at Alex’s arm a little more forcefully.
“Yo! Over here!” a voice called.
It was Jack Valdeavano, Lindsey’s cousin. He was sitting with Corey O’Sullivan and a group of other guys and girls, three tables over from Emily and Lindsey. Ava felt her heart beat a little quicker. It wasn’t as though she like liked Jack or anything, but she definitely liked him. They’d met the first week she’d arrived, at a park in their neighborhood, and had hung out and played basketball a few times since. And he did have a pretty great smile.
“Let’s go, Al,” said Ava, and she pulled her sister over to where Jack and Corey were sitting.
Alex hissed into her ear. “Ave! I can’t sit with Corey! Remember what you told me? I think Lindsey likes him! This could be a very bad tactical maneuver, socially speaking.”
Ava had to admit she was right. Alex liked Corey, but they had recently found out that he and Lindsey used to date, so it probably wasn’t the best idea to sit with him. It was too late, though—they were at the table, and Ava slid into the seat across from Jack. Alex sat down warily across from Corey. Both girls glanced in Lindsey’s direction. Ava saw a dark expression pass Lindsey’s face, which was quickly replaced by a smile. Ava darted a look at Alex, who had seen the same thing. Alex gave a nervous little shrug. There was nothing she could do now.
Ava unzipped her lunch and grinned at the contents. Coach had packed her a peanut butter and banana sandwich with the cr
usts cut off. She was way too old to be eating a sandwich with the crusts cut off—that was something preschoolers demanded—but her dad knew how much she hated crusts, and it was a sweet gesture for her first day at her new school. Plus, he’d packed her a football-shaped cookie.
Corey leaned forward and grinned at Alex. “I can’t believe we haven’t had any classes together yet,” he said. “What do you have next?”
“What? Um, I think English, with Ms. Torres?” Alex’s face was scarlet. She’d put her sandwich on the table but hadn’t taken a single bite. “And then math, with Ms. Kerry.”
“Oh, awesome—me too! So we’re in two classes together. I heard Ms. Torres is tough.”
“Really?” said Alex. “Well, I’ve already read the first book on the list, Johnny Tremain. Like, twice. So hopefully that will help me. Actually, I’ve already read most of the books on the syllabus.”
“You already looked up the books on the syllabus?”
Alex laughed awkwardly. “I just wanted to see what they read last year. You know, to prepare,” she said.
Corey nodded. Ava cringed inwardly. Why did Alex become so nervous and weird around guys she liked?
“So who do you have for English?” Jack asked Ava.
“Oh! I don’t know. I forgot my schedule at home and my homeroom teacher didn’t have the right printout. I have time to stop by the office to check—actually, I should probably go do that.” She finished her sandwich hastily.
“I hope it’s Palmer, next period,” said Jack. “I hear it’s a pretty cool class.”
Ava popped her last carrot stick into her mouth and grabbed her cookie and apple for the road. Then she stood up, waved to the table, and headed for the office, trying not to feel guilty for leaving Alex there alone.
There was already a line of kids in front of the secretary’s desk when Ava arrived. Good, other kids also forgot or lost their schedules, Ava thought, relieved. Mrs. Gusman, the secretary, hustled the line along, looking information up on her computer and then directing the students where to go.
“Hi, can you tell me what English class I’m in? I know it’s next period,” said Ava when it was her turn.
“Last name?”
“Sackett.”
Mrs. Gusman’s fingers flew over the keyboard. “A. Sackett, Palmer, room W106.”
“Thanks,” said Ava with a big grin. She and Jack were in the same class! She sent him a quick text to tell him that, but he didn’t answer. No surprise—they weren’t allowed to text in class, and the first bell had already rung.
The second bell rang just as she walked into Ms. Palmer’s classroom. She scanned the room for an empty desk and saw that there was one—right next to Jack. He was smiling that half smile at her. He’d saved her a seat!
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said to the teacher as she slid into her desk.
Ms. Palmer glanced down at her clipboard and furrowed her brow. “Your name?”
“Ava Sackett.”
The rest of the class was a pretty standard first-day-of-English class. Ms. Palmer passed out textbooks, sternly admonished everyone to cover their books that night and to refrain from writing in them, and outlined her expectations about the writer’s notebooks they were going to be maintaining. Then toward the end of class, she passed out the first book they would be reading: White Fang.
The title was certainly promising, Ava thought, although the picture of the dog howling at the moon on the cover was somewhat of a letdown. So it wasn’t about vampires or sharks. Ava opened to the first page and scanned the very small text with a sinking feeling.
“Please read the first three chapters tonight and write a short response in your writer’s notebook,” said Ms. Palmer. “And be prepared tomorrow, or any day, for a pop quiz—I need to make sure you’re keeping up. This is a wonderful book, but not an easy read, so it’s essential not to fall behind. But I’m sure no one in this class will have a problem with that.” She smiled at them just as the bell rang.
CHAPTER
FOUR
Ava had some trouble finding her social studies class, and when she got there, most kids were already sitting down. She didn’t know a single person, but everyone looked up at her as she walked in. Did they know somehow that she was Coach Sackett’s daughter, or was she just being super paranoid? There was one girl who hadn’t bothered to look up, though—she was sitting quietly at her desk, reading a book with a knight and a dragon on the cover.
Ava sat down next to her, and then the girl did look up and smile at her. It was a genuine, friendly smile. Ava’s instincts about people were rarely wrong, and she instantly liked this girl, from the colorful beads at the bottom of her braids to her funky black-and-white cowboy boots.
“I’m Kylie,” she said, holding out a hand for Ava to shake. She had an interesting ring on every finger, and her nails were painted different colors—the same colors as the beads in her hair.
“I’m Ava,” said Ava, relieved not to have to mention what her last name was.
Kylie’s handshake was firm. “You’re not from Texas, are you?”
“Um, no, I’m new,” said Ava. “How did you know?”
“Lucky guess. Plus, you have a New England Patriots sticker on your notebook.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s kind of a giveaway,” Ava said, smiling.
“You look athletic, too,” Kylie said. “What sports do you play? Wait. Let me guess. Are you a runner?”
“I play football,” replied Ava automatically. “And basketball, and soccer,” she added quickly. She realized that saying she played football could come across as a little strange—after all, usually only boys played football. Then again, Kylie looked like the sort of person who would appreciate someone who was unconventional.
Kylie nodded without missing a beat. “I like that. My sister is a cheerleader at the high school, so I’ve been to plenty of games. It’s not really my thing, though. I have trouble following the rules. So where in New England are you from?”
“Just outside of Boston,” said Ava, laughing a little. Kylie practically talked at Alex’s pace!
Kylie’s eyes sparkled. “I went to Boston this summer!” she exclaimed, bouncing up and down in her seat. “We went to the aquarium and rode in the swan boats. And I had my first New England clam chowder. It was sooo good!”
Ava laughed. Kylie’s enthusiasm was infectious. “I love the aquarium too,” she agreed.
Their teacher, Mr. Antonucci, clapped his hands to get people’s attention, and class began.
Their first task was to partner up and fill out a worksheet about the history of Texas. Kylie and Ava shared a computer station.
“State bird,” Ava read off the worksheet.
“Mockingbird,” said Kylie, without even doing an Internet search. She opened her notebook and started sketching a bird.
“State flower,” said Ava.
“Bluebonnet,” said Kylie. Her pen performed a series of loopy maneuvers, and a pretty flower appeared. Ava was impressed.
“Bluebonnet? Really?” asked Ava. “I would have said the yellow rose. Isn’t there a song about the yellow rose of Texas?”
“There is, but it’s the bluebonnet, trust me.”
Ava wrote that down and then looked up. “Guess I chose the right partner.”
“You sure did, pardner,” said Kylie. She smiled as she added little leaves to her flower.
Ava smiled too. She’d hardly been talking to Kylie for five minutes, and she already felt comfortable around her. Like she did with Charlie, her best friend back in Boston. She hadn’t felt that way about anyone in Texas yet . . . well, except for Jack. But the slightly twisty feeling that developed in her stomach when he smiled prevented her from feeling totally comfortable around him too.
“Have you ever ridden a horse?” asked Kylie, interrupting Ava’s thoughts.
“Not since I was little. I don’t think it counts that I was led around a corral when I was four,” admitted Ava.
“No, that doesn’t really count. But it’s a start! Anyway, I live on a ranch—you should come over and I’ll teach you how to ride.”
Ava grinned. “I’d love that.”
When the twins got home from school that afternoon, they found a note from their mother waiting for them. Mrs. Sackett would be firing at the kiln late, so the twins were supposed to prepare dinner and walk Moxy. Alex got to work chopping veggies for lasagna, and Ava put her shoes back on to take an eager Moxy outside.
Coach and Tommy arrived in silence a few hours later. Coach went to take a shower, but Tommy gave Ava a discreet thumbs-up before going upstairs. “The info session was great!” he said. “I was, like, thirty seconds late to practice, so Coach is mad, but it was worth it!”
Their mom came home just as Ava was pulling the lasagna out of the oven. Alex tossed the salad. Moxy leaped up to greet Mrs. Sackett, her tail wagging her whole back end as though they hadn’t seen each other in months.
“Down, girl,” said Mrs. Sackett.
Moxy sat, her tail thumping loudly on the linoleum floor.
“Coach and Tommy just got home,” Ava reported. “They’re taking showers and then coming down to set the table.”
“Thank you, girls, for taking care of dinner. I can’t wait to hear all about your first days!” Mrs. Sackett set her bag down and leaned against the counter. She had a smudge of dried clay on her nose and some green paint in her hair.
They heard Coach heading down the front stairs. He walked in, freshly showered and smelling of shaving cream, and kissed Mrs. Sackett gently on the forehead.
“Long day, hon?”
“Yes, I’m exhausted,” said Mrs. Sackett. “I’ve forgotten what it’s like to do this full-time!” She sank into a chair and smiled gratefully as Ava handed her a large glass of iced tea. Moxy sidled over and put her head on Mrs. Sackett’s lap, hoping to be petted.
“I was firing all afternoon,” said Mrs. Sackett, her hand now stroking Moxy’s glossy head. “And I just found out there’s a PTA meeting this Wednesday and I am very much expected to be there. Plus, a reporter from the paper called and asked me for quotes about our family life.” She took a long gulp of tea. “Did you remember to stop by the vet for Moxy’s medicine, sweetie?”