by Belle Payton
Coach grimaced. “I’m sorry, hon,” he said. “Practice ran late and . . .” He shook his head. “I just forgot all about it,” he admitted.
Mrs. Sackett sighed wearily. “It’s okay. I’ll go in the morning, before I go to the studio.”
Coach hung his head. Ava and Alex exchanged a look.
Later that evening, after Ava had finally finished her social studies reading, she climbed into bed with White Fang, her dictionary, and her writer’s notebook. She opened to the first page of the book.
Dark spruce forest frowned on either side the frozen waterway. The trees had been stripped by a recent wind of their white covering of frost, and they seemed to lean toward each other, black and ominous, in the fading light. A vast silence reigned over the land. The land itself was a desolation, lifeless . . .
Ava’s mind wandered. She thought about her mom and dad, and how stressed they both seemed. She thought about Tommy, and his feelings about football. Would he ever consider quitting the team? How would Coach respond?
. . . desolation, lifeless, without movement, so lone and cold that the spirit of it was not even that of sadness. . . .
Her eyes drooped. Why was it so hard to concentrate? The text was small, the language was flowery, and the sentences were so long. Plus, who cared about the landscape? Why couldn’t the author get to the fun part, which presumably was a dog or a wolf named White Fang? Was she the only person with this concentration problem? She thought about Jack. Had he breezed through the chapters? Then she thought about Alex. She wished she had Alex’s powers of concentration.
“Stop,” she said out loud, shaking her head quickly back and forth to wake herself up. “Concentrate.”
But the next thing she knew, it was morning. She’d fallen asleep with her light on. Her book had slipped to the floor, and she hadn’t read the first page, let alone started the writing assignment.
CHAPTER
FIVE
Alex loved Ms. Torres, her English teacher, for her sense of style. She was young and pretty, with full lips and large dark eyes. And two days in a row she’d worn very fashionable outfits. Today she had on a red shift dress and matching red patent leather flats. She also had a lovely, lilting laugh. The downside of English class with Ms. Torres was that it looked like it was going to be a little slow moving. They only had to read one chapter of Johnny Tremain per night, and it was not a complex book.
At the start of today’s class, Ms. Torres gave them a pop quiz on the reading. Then they passed their quiz to the person behind them and graded their partner’s quiz during a guided discussion. As it happened, Corey was sitting behind Alex.
That was the upside to the class. A very good-looking, very twinkly-eyed upside. Not only was Corey in this class, but so was Emily. By some miracle, Alex, Corey, and Emily also shared the same math class. But the difference was Lindsey was also in math with Ms. Kerry. And Alex had found that Emily acted differently when Lindsey was around.
“You got a hundred and five with the extra credit,” said Corey as he passed Alex back her quiz. “Impressive.”
Alex could feel herself blushing. Was he making fun of her? Did he think she was a big nerd? Alex knew what her mom would say if she knew what Alex was thinking. Mrs. Sackett had always emphasized the importance of being proud of her intelligence and told her never to hide or mask it for the sake of a boy. That was easy for her to say. The fact was, Alex was a nerd. How many other seventh graders were spending their free time studying SAT vocab words?
“That’s so great, Alex!” said Emily, who seemed genuinely impressed. Then she leaned in a little closer. “A few of us are going to the mall on Saturday,” she whispered. “Want to come? Like around eleven?”
Alex beamed. Her first social invitation of the school year! “I’d love to!” she said.
Ms. Torres cleared her throat.
“I’ll text you with the plan once I find out what it is,” said Emily quickly.
Alex felt giddy with happiness. She was on her way to being accepted by the popular crowd. And once she was in, she’d help guide Ava into it as well, just as she’d done back in Massachusetts.
But Emily wasn’t quite so friendly in math class the next period. She chatted away with Alex as they walked between classrooms together, but once they got there, Emily sat in the only seat next to Lindsey. The day before, there’d been two free seats, but today the second one was occupied by a new kid—probably a transfer from another math section. That left Alex no choice but to sit halfway across the room, next to a kid with his head down on the desk, evidently asleep. Corey leaned over from a few desks away in the same row and grinned at her.
Ms. Kerry wrote a complex equation on the board:
343 − 49 ÷ 7 x 62 + 12
“Alex,” said Ms. Kerry. “Can you help us to demonstrate order of operations? How would you work this out?” She beckoned Alex up to the board.
Alex glanced at Corey, who gave her an encouraging nod.
She moved to the whiteboard and quickly did the calculations. “You’d first square the six to give you thirty-six. Then you’d divide the forty-nine by seven, and that would give you seven. Then you’d need to multiply the seven by the thirty-six, which would give you two hundred fifty-two, so then it’s three hundred forty-three minus two hundred fifty-two plus twelve. And then you’d do the subtraction and the addition to give you”—she calculated quickly—“an answer of one hundred three.”
“Very nice! And what if I inserted parentheses around the first two numbers?” Ms. Kerry added parentheses to the equation and then stepped back again. “Would that change your answer?”
“Well, sure,” said Alex eagerly. “Because you’d have to do the operation within the parentheses first, rather than dividing the forty-nine by the seven, so the answer would be”—her marker flew—“fifteen hundred twenty-four.”
“Excellent!” Ms. Kerry beamed. “And if you group the forty-nine and the seven, would that change the answer?”
“No, because you would do the division first anyway, regardless of whether there were parentheses or not. So the answer would still be one hundred three.”
Ms. Kerry’s smile broadened. “Lovely work, Alex. You may sit down.”
As Alex turned toward her desk, proud of herself and basking in Ms. Kerry’s praise, she caught sight of Corey’s furrowed brow, staring through half-closed eyes at the calculations Alex had just done in her neat, pretty handwriting. And she saw Lindsey and Emily exchange a look. What did that look mean? Did they think she was showing off?
Alex felt an uneasy awareness bubble to the surface. Emily had seemed so much nicer in English than in math class. It had to be because Lindsey was present. But what had she done wrong? At her last school, it had definitely been cool to be smart. There were a lot of smart kids who were popular. Was it different here? She vowed not to raise her hand for the rest of class.
When the bell rang, she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Corey.
“Hey. You were awesome up there,” he said. “I don’t think I could have answered Ms. Kerry’s questions like you did if my life depended on it.”
Alex glowed. “It was no big deal,” she said. “We studied order of operations at the end of last year, and I brushed up a little on them over the summer.” She picked up her backpack, which was now quite heavy, and Corey helped her hike it up onto her shoulder. Not just gorgeous, but also thoughtful! Alex mused.
“Hey, you know, you should totally sign up for the math team at the Activities Fair on Friday,” he said, moving in step with her toward the door of the classroom. “I’m sure they could really use you.”
“Thanks,” she said, feeling her cheeks flush. “I was planning to sign up for a whole bunch of stuff, actually. What I really want, though, is to be in the student government.”
“That makes a lot of sense,” said Corey, nodding. “You could totally be the class president even.”
“Really?” she asked breathlessly. “You think I could win?�
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“Definitely. You’re smart. You’re organized. You’re nice. You’re pre—” He stopped himself and blushed to the roots of his hair.
Alex blushed too. Then she looked over his shoulder and saw Lindsey glaring at the two of them. Her elation deflated like a popped balloon. She muttered good-bye to Corey and hurried from the classroom, her face burning hot. She’d need to keep her distance from Corey when Lindsey was around. It was just too risky to flirt with a guy before she’d established herself socially with the girls.
Ava sat at her desk and stared down at the pop quiz she’d gotten back from Ms. Palmer in English that day. A big red “59” was written across the top. She folded the quiz in half and shoved it into the back of the bottom drawer of her desk. Of course she’d failed. She hadn’t done the reading. She’d tried, but this book was just too hard for her, with its old-fashioned writing and long sentences. The one class she had with Jack, and she looked like a total idiot.
She needed to get herself to concentrate before she fell further behind. With a sigh, she pulled out White Fang and opened it to where she’d left off the night before.
She’d made it about halfway down the page when she heard a gentle tap, and Coach walked in.
“How’s it going, champ?” he asked, pulling up her cushy chair and sinking into it.
“Okay, I guess,” she said. “I’m having some trouble concentrating on this book for English.”
“I thought I noticed your light on late last night when I passed your room,” he said. He held out a hand for the book and peered at the title. “White Fang, huh? That’s a good book. What do you think?”
“It seems like it could be an exciting story, but I haven’t really gotten past the first few pages. The author keeps describing every little thing.”
He nodded, flipping through the pages. “I seem to recall we read that in high school, not seventh grade.”
Ava shrugged. “My teacher keeps talking about ‘students of your caliber,’ like we’re a classroom full of geniuses. If she has expectations like this in our class, what must they be reading in Alex’s accelerated English class? War and Peace, probably. I’m sure Al’s already read it.”
Coach chuckled.
“Middle school seems a lot harder than elementary school, Coach.”
He nodded and put a strong hand on her shoulder. “But you’re tough, Ave,” he said. “I know how fierce a competitor you can be on the playing field, and you’re smart as a whip. You’ll do okay. Every good athlete knows the value of hard work.”
Ava swallowed and nodded, although secretly she didn’t feel so confident. “Well, on the bright side,” she said, changing the subject, “I think I’ve made a new friend. Her name’s Kylie—she rides horses and she’s really cool.”
“That’s great.”
“And she invited me to her house on Saturday. She lives on a ranch outside of town.”
Alex appeared in the doorway. “Hey, Ave, can I talk to you about—Oh! Hey, Daddy!” she said. “I didn’t know you were in here.”
“I was just leaving,” said Coach, yawning and stretching as he stood up. “It’s been a long day.”
“I know this is a tough week for you, and for Mom,” said Alex. “What with her big order and everything. And next week’s going to be even crazier, because of Thursday.”
“You’re right, sweetheart,” he said. “It’s a pretty tough stretch, but—wait. Next Thursday? You mean Friday, don’t you?”
“No, Thursday. But don’t worry. Ava and I will help you with the planning, won’t we, Ave?”
He nodded. “Great. Thanks.” Then he paused. “So, um. What’s happening on Thursday?”
Ava was also baffled. “Yeah. His first football game’s Friday, not Thursday.”
Alex looked from one of them to the other, as though she wasn’t sure if they were kidding. Then she clapped a hand to her brow and shook her head as though it pained her. She took a step into the room and dropped her voice. “Um, guys? Hello? It’s Mom and Dad’s anniversary next Thursday? Like, their twentieth?”
Coach’s jaw dropped open as though it had become completely unhinged. He fell backward into the chair and looked from one girl to the other with a stricken face. “You’re right, Alex. It’s a week from Thursday. Holy cow. I completely forgot about our anniversary.” He massaged his temples. “And your mom has been so overwhelmed lately with the team duties. I need to do something really special for her.”
Alex moved briskly toward Ava’s bed and shoved the untidy heap of books and papers out of the way so she could sit down. She took out her phone and opened it up to the notebook app. “Don’t worry, Daddy. Ava and I will take care of this,” she said.
Ava grinned. It was times like these that she loved her sister’s efficiency and knack for planning.
“How about a nice romantic dinner for two?” asked Alex. She began typing away, searching the Internet.
“Um, great. Romantic dinner. Sounds perfect, Al.”
“Not a barbecue place,” Alex said firmly. “Mom only goes to those places because of you and Tommy and your desire for protein in the form of red meat. What about that adorable little French restaurant that we’ve passed on the way to the stadium?”
Ava moved from her chair and sat next to her sister, looking on with her. “I know which one you mean. It does look cool. I think it’s called Le Pain,” she said.
Alex giggled. “It’s not pronounced ‘pain,’ ” she said. “You pronounce it ‘le pehn.’ It’s French, silly. It means ‘bread.’ ”
“Okay, so, how about there, Coach?” said Ava. “It’s fancy, and it’s close. You can get to it right after practice. Alex and I can go there after school and make the arrangements and stuff, you know, make sure they know it’s a really special evening and to give you a good table.”
“And flowers and candles,” added Alex.
Coach moved to the bed and took both girls into his strong arms and gave them each a kiss on the head. “You guys are the greatest. I don’t know what I’d do without my girls,” he said.
“I’m forced to agree, Daddy,” said Alex with a grin. “I don’t know what you’d do without us either.”
CHAPTER
SIX
In Ava’s English class on Wednesday, Ms. Palmer handed out another pop quiz.
Ava stared down at the page. There were only five questions. They would be five easy questions, if she’d managed to make it through the reading. But she’d fallen asleep again after staring at the same sentence for five minutes. She had no clue who Henry was, whether he was a wolf or a dog or a human, let alone what happened to him at the end of chapter 3. When Ms. Palmer asked them to put their pencils down, Ava turned her quiz over. She had left three of the answers totally blank. She avoided Jack’s eye throughout class and hurried from the room as soon as the bell rang, feeling sick to her stomach.
At dinner that night, Ava considered telling her mom and dad about her struggles in school. But the conversation swirled around the PTA meeting Mrs. Sackett had just attended, and Ava didn’t want to make her mother more upset than she already was.
“I was swarmed,” Mrs. Sackett said. “Even when I had nothing to say, they called on me and asked me for my input on pretty much every item on the agenda.”
“You’re a rock star, Mom,” said Tommy, pronging another piece of grilled chicken and depositing it on his plate.
“Why would they care what I think about whether the basketball team has orange or white piping on their new uniform shorts? Or whether the refreshment stand at the football game should add veggie burgers to the menu?”
“Ooh, they definitely should!” said Alex. Mrs. Sackett gave her a look. “Sorry.”
“But that’s nice, honey,” said Coach, a hopeful tone in his voice. “That they look up to you. Isn’t it?”
“Sure, I suppose, but I don’t know what makes me qualified to be in charge of all this. There are plenty of impressive parents in these meetings,” Mrs. Sa
ckett continued. “April Cahill is a surgeon, and Dion’s mom is an attorney, and I even met a dad who works at the local TV station as a sports broadcaster.”
“So there are people you like?” Ava asked. She and her mom were so much alike, often quiet and reserved. Ava knew Mrs. Sackett had left some good friends behind in Massachusetts—she hoped her mom could find some good friends here, like she’d found Kylie.
“There are a few people I like,” she admitted. “But I feel this pressure to be so outgoing and authoritative, and that’s just not my personality. I’m not sure I’m up for this challenge, Michael.”
“Mom, you have to be up for it! For my sake!” Alex cried. “Student elections are just around the corner, and the more that you do, the better I look.”
Tommy snorted. Ava sighed.
“Alex, honey, you don’t need your mother’s help to get yourself elected into the student government,” said Coach. “Your classmates would be crazy not to vote for you.”
“Oh, and one other thing,” said Mrs. Sackett. “Somehow I got roped into baking twelve dozen cookies for the Activities Fair this Friday night. I don’t even remember agreeing to it, but then at the end of the meeting they reminded me about it. Everyone looked so excited that I was doing it that I just couldn’t bring myself to say I wouldn’t.”
“We’ll all help you,” said Alex quickly.
Ava’s heart sank. She hated baking cookies.
“Won’t we?” Alex said, more as a threat than a question, looking around the dinner table.
Coach had just taken a drink of his water. He froze midswallow, and then gulped. “Sweetie, Tommy and I have practice on Friday. You know that.”
Mrs. Sackett stood up. Her lower lip trembled. “I’m not even a good baker,” she said in a high voice that Ava had never heard before. “I didn’t sign up for this, Michael. I don’t have time for my job, for my family, or for myself.”