May the Best Twin Win

by Belle Payton

  Mrs. Fowler stood up and reached for a manila folder on the standing file rack at the corner of her desk.

  Ava was always surprised by how short Mrs. Fowler was, considering how large her twin sons were—they must have gotten their height and athletic ability from their father. She’d never seen him, because he’d been away since last spring, before she’d even moved to Texas.

  Mrs. Fowler pulled the manila folder from the file and opened it, frowning. “You have accommodations? I didn’t see . . .” She scanned the list. Then she looked back up at Ava. “You are right, Ava. I am so sorry. Your name is here, but it isn’t filed alphabetically for some reason. I see it now, down at the bottom. Oh, dear.” She set the file down and drummed her fingers on her chin.

  “I’m really sorry, Mrs. Fowler,” said Ava. “I didn’t want to say anything to Mrs. Hyde, because I didn’t want to get you in trouble. I know how much you need this job and stuff. And it’s probably too late for me to retake the test, because of course now I would have had time to do a ton of extra studying, knowing what the short essays were about, so I—”

  “Ava. Dear. Please,” said Mrs. Fowler. “You won’t get me in trouble, I promise. I will speak to Mrs. Hyde today. We’ll straighten this all out. I do appreciate your concern for me, though. And it’s a good learning moment for me. You did try to tell me something after the test, and I should have taken the time to listen. I will also speak with Mr. Cho. His grandson needs to have a few tests done, so Mr. Cho will be staying in California another week. But I can handle this. My guess is that he will recommend that we simply give you two new essay questions to answer. Do you have a free period tomorrow?”

  “Yes, I usually meet with Mrs. Hyde during my lunch period on Friday,” said Ava.

  “Perfect. You can plan to retake the end of the test then.”

  Ava felt relief wash over her. This was definitely one of those times when it was a good thing to share your problem with a grown-up. Mrs. Fowler had already made her feel better. She blew out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

  “That’s awesome, thanks. Um, I hope your daughter feels better.”

  Mrs. Fowler looked startled.

  “I—I heard you say your baby was fussing. I hope she isn’t sick.”

  “She’ll be fine, thanks,” said Mrs. Fowler. “She just has a new tooth. My mother is keeping an eye on her for me. But you’re nice to ask.”

  Ava picked up her heavy backpack and swung it onto her shoulder. As she did so, her backpack hit a pink eraser on the corner of Mrs. Fowler’s desk. It flew up into the air. “Oops, sorry, I—”

  A hand shot out, seemingly from nowhere, and caught the eraser just as it was beginning its downward descent. Mrs. Fowler had been half turned away from Ava but must have seen the eraser go flying out of the corner of her eye. She’d executed a spin move, pivoting on her back foot, swinging around toward Ava, and deftly catching the eraser in a lightning-quick maneuver.

  She smiled at Ava and put the eraser back down on the desk. “Whew!” she said in an undertone, almost as if she were speaking just to herself. “Still got it, I guess.”

  Ava blinked. “Wow. That was impressive.”

  Mrs. Fowler laughed and sat back down to her pile of grading. “I played shortstop in high school. Our team was the All-District champ,” she said. “I suppose it’s like riding a bike—you never forget.”

  The wheels were turning in Ava’s brain. Now that the test issue seemed to have been resolved, her mind was shifting to her coaching duties, and her recruiting instincts had gone on high alert. “Mrs. Fowler? Would you be willing to join the seventh-grade student-faculty Powder Puff team for our big matchup against the eighth graders? It’s tomorrow, during the pep rally.”

  Mrs. Fowler hesitated. “I’m sure that would cause Timothy and Gregory incalculable embarrassment,” she said. Then her smile broadened. “I’d be glad to, Ava.”

  CHAPTER

  TEN

  Alex was just closing her locker when Ava appeared at her side. She told her twin about her meeting with Mrs. Fowler. “It looks like it’s going to work out,” she said.

  “Oh, Ave, that’s great. I’m so glad you decided to talk to her,” said Alex, and she meant it.

  “And Al, you’ll never believe this, but Mrs. Fowler is a total stud. I recruited her for the game tomorrow.”

  Alex was dumbfounded. “Are we talking about the same Mrs. Fowler? She’s so short and so—rotund. She doesn’t, er, look like she’d be much of an athlete.”

  “I know, but she has the most amazing hands. And she’s quick! You should have seen the spin move she just executed, catching an eraser.”

  “So should I help you look for the hidden talent lurking in our seventh-grade female faculty?” asked Alex with a laugh. A noise behind her made her turn.

  A group of eighth-grade boys was making its way down the hall, laughing noisily and jostling up against one another. Mrs. Barber, the seventh-grade reading specialist, was just stepping out of her office, followed by a girl Alex didn’t know. The girl had a cast on her foot and was on crutches.

  Mrs. Barber must have assessed the impending crisis with a rapid response time, because she immediately jumped into a defensive stance, throwing her body between the girl on crutches and the group of eighth graders, her arms raised and her head down, and blocked their path, narrowly averting a collision.

  “Oh, sorry, Mrs. Barber,” said the tallest of the eighth graders.

  “Do watch where you’re walking, boys,” said Mrs. Barber.

  Alex turned to look at Ava. Ava had seen it too.

  “Defense?” asked Alex.

  Ava nodded. “Blocker for sure,” she said. “I’ll go talk to her.”

  At lunch Ava was just unwrapping her peanut butter sandwich when her friend Jack Valdeavano appeared before her, panting slightly, his dark eyes sparkling.

  Ava set down her sandwich. “Another recruit?” she asked him. She’d told Jack about her recruiting mission in math class earlier, and he’d been all over the idea of helping her scout talent.

  Jack nodded. “Look over there. Ms. Nelson.”

  Ava looked. Ms. Nelson, a young seventh-grade math teacher, was weaving her way through the throng of chattering kids, holding two trays above her head to avoid the jostling crowds.

  “Why is she carrying two trays?” asked Ava, watching as Ms. Nelson pivoted, weaved, and glided through the crowd, keeping the trays perfectly level the whole time. There was a cup of water on each of the two trays, and not so much as a drop sloshed out.

  “I was behind her in the line,” said Jack. “She told me she was bringing lunch to Mrs. Hyde, because she’s in a meeting that’s running late.”

  Ava nodded, still watching Ms. Nelson with a glittering eye. She stood up. “A born flanker. I’ll go talk to her. Nice work, JV.”

  “Thanks, Coach,” said Jack with a wide grin.

  It was startling to hear herself called Coach, but Ava didn’t mind it either. My dad would probably be proud, she thought.

  At the end of the day, Ava and Alex met up once again at their lockers.

  “How’d it go with the recruiting today?” asked Alex.

  Ava was tugging at her sports bag, which was jammed in at the bottom of her cluttered locker. “Pretty well,” she said, finally wresting it free. “I still need some speed, though. I—”

  Suddenly they heard the clatter of heels coming down the hall. Mrs. Monti, a science teacher, was tearing after a tiny brown mouse. “Make way!” she shouted, her high heels kicking up behind her, her lab coat flapping open. “Don’t step on him!”

  Kids leaped out of the way as the mouse scurried behind a trash can at the corner. Mrs. Monti scooped it up, cupping it gently between two perfectly manicured hands. “He got out of the cage somehow,” she explained to the onlookers.

  Ava looked at Alex. One of Alex’s eyebrows shot up. “That was quite a show of speed,” Ava said. “The woman’s got wheels.”
>
  Alex rolled her eyes. “You sound exactly like Daddy,” she said with a laugh.

  After dinner that night, Mrs. Sackett knocked on Ava’s door. Ava was lying on her bed, frowning down at her science textbook. Moxy was sprawled alongside her, lying on her back with her four paws in the air.

  Moxy opened one eye when Mrs. Sackett appeared, and then hastily leaped to the floor. She knew Mrs. Sackett didn’t approve of dogs on the beds.

  “Honey, I just wanted to make sure everything is okay at school,” said Mrs. Sackett. “You haven’t mentioned anything about your science test, and I know that you and Luke were studying really hard together. Did it go okay?”

  How does she always seem to know when I have a problem? Ava wondered. She set down her book. “Yeah, about that test. I did run into a little snag with it. We had a sub on Monday, and she didn’t realize I was entitled to extra time, and I didn’t get to finish it.”

  Mrs. Sackett frowned and started to say something.

  “But don’t worry,” Ava added hastily. “I solved the problem myself.” She told her mother everything that had happened.

  “I’m really proud of the way you handled it,” said Mrs. Sackett, patting Ava’s leg. “That was very mature of you.”

  “And Mrs. Fowler just e-mailed me to say Mr. Cho sent her two new essay questions for me to answer,” Ava continued. “So I’m trying to figure out what they might be. I get to finish the test tomorrow.”

  Her mom kissed her on the top of her head and left her to her studies.

  Half an hour later, Ava sighed and put her book down. Moxy had jumped back up onto the bed after Mrs. Sackett had left, and Ava rubbed her dog’s tummy, wishing she could stay more focused. Her mind kept wandering to the Powder Puff championship game the next day, and which teachers and students she would start with.

  Alex popped her head in. “How’s the studying going?”

  “It’s going,” said Ava. “But I’m starting to have trouble concentrating. I’m just not good at absorbing a ton of information this quickly. My mind keeps wandering.”

  Alex came in and plopped down on the bed. Moxy shifted a little to give Alex better access to petting her tummy. “I bet you a million dollars they’ll ask you to diagram a plant and an animal cell,” she said. “Teachers love diagrams. And then I bet you the question will ask you to compare and contrast them, and maybe the other will be to describe the eukaryotic cell.”

  Ava nodded. “They had us compare and contrast plant and animal cells on the original test, but we didn’t have to diagram them,” she said. “Maybe I’ll practice doing that.”

  “I practically guarantee it,” said Alex with a smile.

  “Hey, Al? By the way, I’m sorry I wasn’t that supportive toward you with all the Powder Puff stuff. I get what a big deal it is. And you really played smart yesterday. You guys deserved to win.”

  Alex brightened. “You think so? That was a pretty cool lateral pass I made, huh?”

  There she goes again with the lateral pass, Ava thought, smiling.

  “Got to go choose my bow for tomorrow’s game,” said Alex. “I have it narrowed down to either an orange stripe or white with orange polka dots. Good luck studying.”

  CHAPTER

  ELEVEN

  Friday at lunch Ava nervously reported to Mrs. Hyde’s office for her test. But as soon as Mrs. Hyde put the two new questions down in front of her, Ava smiled and let out her breath. Alex had been right. The first question asked her to draw a plant and an animal cell diagram. The second question asked her to explain the difference between prokaryotic and eukaryotic cells. She silently thanked her sister and got to work. She had no trouble labeling the mitochondria and the ribosomes and the chloroplasts and the endoplasmic reticulum. The essay was easy too. She even finished at least five minutes before the bell rang, handed the test to Mrs. Hyde, and practically danced out of Mrs. Hyde’s office.

  Now she could concentrate on the big game today with an untroubled mind.

  After her last class, she ran to her locker to collect her books before the pep rally, knowing she’d need to make a quick dash to football practice after it was over. When she walked out of the gym and onto the middle school football field a few minutes after the bell, things were already in full swing.

  The seventh-grade student-faculty team stood on one sideline, wearing orange. The eighth-grade team was on the other sideline, wearing blue. The middle school band was playing a rousing, slightly out-of-tune version of the school song. But it was the two groups of seventh- and eighth-grade boys who attracted the most attention. They were dressed for cheering.

  The seventh graders were wearing orange shirts that read TUFF ENOUGH FOR POWDER PUFF. Most wore jeans or gym shorts with their shirts, and most also had big bows in their hair. Ava laughed when she saw Jack, and then Corey and Xander, holding their orange pom-poms. Kal Tippett and Owen Rooney had painted their faces with tiger stripes.

  “Hey, Ave!” called Jack, beckoning her over with one of his pom-poms. “How do I look?”

  “Gorgeous,” said Ava.

  “You look pretty fly yourself,” said Jack.

  Coach had lent Ava one of his orange hats that said COACH on it. Wearing it made her feel so much more like a coach.

  “Lindsey and Emily are going to coach us today,” said Jack. “And Greg Fowler and Owen can actually do some tumbling. So be sure to watch our halftime performance.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” said Ava.

  “You’d better not, or I’ll hit you with my pom-poms.”

  Mr. Kenerson blew his whistle to gather the two Powder Puff teams together. He was dressed in his black-and-white-striped officiating shirt. Ava joined her team.

  Mrs. Fowler was wearing some sort of tennis skirt with her orange T-shirt. And her white tennis shoes looked all wrong. Mrs. Monti was decked out in a headband, sweatbands, and kneepads—the sort of paraphernalia that Ava had always thought cried “nonathlete.” But Ava had seen what these teachers could do. She focused on Mr. Kenerson, who was reminding them of the rules.

  “There must be at least five faculty members on the field at all times, for each team,” he said, reading from his clipboard. “There is to be no unnecessary roughness or intentional tackling,” he continued. “And that means you, Barbara Barber and Sheila Burleigh,” he said, looking at the two teachers with a sly grin.

  Mrs. Barber and Mrs. Burleigh both gave him a who me? look, and everyone laughed.

  Ava felt someone elbow her and turned. It was Alex.

  “Are you sure about these faculty members you chose?” Alex whispered out of the corner of her mouth. “Look at Mrs. Barber. She’s wearing socks with pirates on them.”

  “I know,” replied Ava, also in a whisper. “But it’s all we have to work with. All we can do is our best.”

  Alex nodded grimly.

  As the players walked onto the field, the seventh-grade boy cheerleaders lined up on the sideline and did their first cheer routine. Corey and Xander hoisted Jack up into the air. Jack leaped off their hands, did a pretty decent pike in the air, and landed in a sitting position on Xander and Corey’s arms. The crowd cheered as Jack landed lightly on his feet and bowed. Ava rolled her eyes and grinned.

  At halftime the game remained scoreless. Not so much because the defense is so good, Ava thought, but more because the players on offense can’t quite seem to coordinate the plays. Once Ms. Nelson nearly scored a touchdown for the other team, but luckily, Mrs. Monti ran in from a diagonal and grabbed her flag before she could. The eighth graders protested about grabbing one’s own teammate’s flag, but Mr. Kenerson allowed it.

  During the halftime show the boys performed a step routine, which was to be judged by a faculty panel. First the seventh-grade squad performed, and then the eighth grade. Alex and Ava stood side by side and watched. It was hard not to laugh, watching the seventh graders try to stay in step with one another. Owen and Greg performed a couple of tumbling stunts that were actua
lly pretty impressive.

  After the eighth-grade routine, the middle school band marched onto the field and played the school song. The crowd sang along with the music and then applauded wildly as they marched off again.

  By now all the sixth graders had joined the rest of the fans in the stands. Their tug-of-war competition was over. Ava gazed at the bleachers, which were a sea of people—way more than showed up for the middle school football games. It seemed as though the entire middle school was here. She grinned. Maybe Alex had been right about this game being huge.

  Ava gathered her team into a huddle. “Okay, Mrs. Fowler, now it’s time for us to see some of that speed of yours,” she said. “Try that stutter-step move we talked about. I don’t think Mrs. Burleigh is as quick as you are.”

  Mrs. Fowler nodded intently.

  “And Ms. Nelson, I think the best thing is for you to run deep crossing patterns, and—”

  “What’s a crossing pattern?” asked several people at the same time, including Ms. Nelson.

  Ava passed a hand across her brow. “Sorry. Just run as fast as you can and turn around so Rosa can pass the ball to you. And then run in that direction.” She pointed toward the opposite end zone.

  “What about me?” demanded Kylie. “Owen and I have been doing a little practicing. I’m getting way better at catching the ball.”

  Ava looked at her thoughtfully. “Good to know, Ky,” she said, grinning because Kylie’s cheeks always turned a little pink whenever she talked about Owen. “I’ll put you in as a receiver.”

  In the final ten minutes of the game, the eighth-grade team scored two quick touchdowns in succession. The score was 16–0.

  Miraculously, Tessa Jones caught the kickoff without dropping it and tore down the field, her pink sneakers flying. Mrs. Barber blocked for her most of the way. Then Rosa ran it in for two extra points. The score was 16–8.

  Ava watched as Jack and Greg performed several cartwheels, while Corey, Xander, and Logan Medina executed three spread-eagle jumps in perfect unison, their pom-poms high. She laughed. She was starting to understand more and more why this game was such a popular event. Behind the boys, she could see Lindsey and Emily trying not to laugh as they attempted to teach the “cheerleaders” some simple cheers.