May the Best Twin Win

by Belle Payton

  Ava sent Annelise in for the kickoff. She’d shown some aptitude for it in the last game. Unfortunately, she kicked it out of bounds, so the eighth-grade team got it on their forty yard line.

  “Uh-oh,” said Alex. “Are we in trouble? That’s not very far to go. It doesn’t seem fair of Mr. Kenerson to let them have the ball so close, just because Annelise had a little trouble with the kick.”

  “It’s the rules, Al,” said Ava. She turned to her defensive team. “Go in and stop them, guys,” she said. “We’re going to blitz.”

  Her team of defenders certainly looked tough and determined, with their cheeks swathed with eye black.

  “We’ll stop ’em, Coach,” said Mrs. Barber.

  The eighth-grade quarterback took the snap, but Mrs. Barber and Sydney Gallagher immediately bore down on her. Clearly rattled, she passed the ball backward to Ms. Peterson, the math teacher, who, momentarily confused, ran the wrong way toward her team’s end zone. The eighth-grade fans on the sidelines bellowed at her to turn and go the other way, but it was too late. Mrs. Monti managed to grab Ms. Peterson’s flag in her own end zone. The seventh-grade boy cheer squad went crazy.

  The scoreboard flipped to 16–10.

  Alex, who wasn’t in the game at the moment, looked at Ava, totally perplexed. “She ran in the wrong direction, just like I did last game! But how did our team just score two points? What just happened?”

  “It’s called a safety,” Ava explained. “If we tackle the other team—or grab their player’s flag, in this case—in their own end zone, it’s two points for us! Come on, kick return, team! We’re receiving the ball! Get in there! We’re only down by six! We have four minutes to tie up this game!”

  Fortunately for the seventh-grade team, the eighth-grade team made a horrible kick. Tessa caught the kickoff at the fifty yard line but promptly fell down. The seventh-grade fan section roared with approval when she caught the ball and then groaned with frustration when she fell.

  On second down and seven, Rosa, as quarterback, found Mrs. Fowler, who showed why she’d been a softball district champ as she caught the pass deftly at the thirty yard line. Mrs. Fowler dodged an eighth grader who was bearing down on her from the left, spun to the right, and zoomed down the field. The crowd went quiet in amazement for a few seconds as everyone watched her run. She coasted across the end line, a good five feet ahead of the opposing players trying to grab her flag.

  Mr. Kenerson’s arms shot upward. Touchdown.

  The whole school roared. The score was tied, 16–16, with just twenty seconds left in the game. The clock stopped for their time-out.

  “I think we should run it in,” said Rosa to Ava.

  Alex started to say something, but then appeared to decide not to. Maybe, just maybe, Ava thought, she’s adjusting to letting other people be in charge.

  “That’s a good idea,” Ava said. She didn’t want to risk kicking, given Annelise’s disastrous kickoff earlier.

  “Someone stepped on my toe, and it really hurts,” said Tessa. “I don’t think I can play.”

  Ava gaped at her. “There are just twenty seconds left on the clock!” she said incredulously. “We need you in there!” This was not the sort of thing that happened in a real football game. She had to remind herself that this was Powder Puff.

  “I’ll go in for her,” said Alex meekly.

  Ava and Rosa exchanged looks. Rosa nodded.

  “I mean—I don’t have to,” said Alex quickly. “It’s up to you and Rosa. But if you need me to, I will.”

  Ava hesitated, but reminded herself that a good coach should reward a player for being team-oriented. Even if that player was her twin sister, who really, really stunk at football. “Okay, Al. Win this one for us,” she said.

  The crowd grew quieter as the eighth-grade defenders lined up to face the seventh-grade extra point team, which now included Alex Sackett, in for the “injured” Tessa. Annelise hiked the ball to Rosa, who looked around quickly for an open player. But the eighth-grade team was providing excellent coverage, and Mrs. Burleigh was making a beeline for Rosa. In desperation, she sidearmed the ball to Kylie.

  Kylie bobbled it. The ball shot out of her arms and up into the air.

  Ava prayed.

  The ball landed in the arms of a surprised Alex.

  Ava held her breath.

  Alex pulled it in and clutched it tight to her chest. With her head down, she barreled across the end line and fell, but she didn’t let go of the ball. Just as Alex fell, an eighth grader snatched her flag and held it aloft.

  Had she grabbed Alex’s flag before Alex crossed the end line?

  The crowd waited, holding its collective breath.

  Mr. Kenerson stooped down to see where Alex had fallen. He stood up and turned toward the crowd.

  His arms shot up. The conversion was good!

  The seventh-grade team had won.

  CHAPTER

  TWELVE

  After the game, Emily and Lindsey ran up behind Alex and hooked their arms in hers. “That was so awesome, Alex!” said Emily.

  “You were the star!” said Lindsey.

  Alex beamed. It felt so good to have her friends paying attention to her again. “Thanks, you guys,” she said. “It was kind of a lucky catch.”

  “You were in the right place at the right time,” said Emily.

  “We’re sorry we were kind of ignoring you when you were on the other team,” said Lindsey.

  “I guess we just got a little caught up in the spirit of things,” added Emily.

  “Don’t apologize,” said Alex generously. “I’m just glad the seventh-grade team won. Especially because there’s going to be an ice cream social and the eighth graders have to serve us!” She giggled.

  “We’ll see you tonight at the high school game then,” said Lindsey. “We have to run off to cheerleading practice.”

  “Save me a seat!” called Alex. She headed inside to the gym. As class president, she was on the decoration committee for the Homecoming dance the next night. She wasn’t totally in charge—the eighth graders had been allowed to select the color scheme, which had been hard for her, because she was great at decorating and had an excellent color sense. Luckily, they’d chosen silver and blue. And they’d been highly receptive to Alex’s ideas for some of the decorations, so that was a relief. She wasn’t sure she could handle taking a backseat on something important twice in one week!

  At the Friday night game the Tigers narrowly squeaked out a victory over the Western Longhorns, one of their most challenging opponents. Ava, sitting between Kylie and Jack, leaped to her feet along with the rest of the Ashland crowd and double-high-fived everyone in the immediate vicinity of her seat. Everyone else was doing the same thing. Ava was relieved. Coach had been very worried about this game.

  “Does this mean we’re going to the play-offs?” yelled Kylie above the din.

  “Yes!” replied Ava.

  Kylie let out a whoop. “Now we have double reason to celebrate!” she said. “First the seventh-grade Powder Puff victory, and now AHS. Let’s go to Sal’s!”

  Ava and Jack agreed, and the three headed down to join the big clump of middle school kids getting ready to walk over to their favorite hangout.

  “Hey,” said Ava, nudging Jack with her elbow. “Thanks for your cheering support during the game today.”

  Jack grinned. “You’re welcome, Coach.”

  Kids had been calling Ava “Coach” all afternoon, ever since the Powder Puff victory. It definitely felt weird to be called what she called her own father. But weird in a good way.

  “I’m not going to lie,” Jack continued. “I thought our halftime dance routine was pretty awesome. I totally thought we were better than the eighth-grade team. They didn’t even point their toes.”

  Ava laughed. “I hope someone recorded it,” she said. “Because I was pretty focused on coaching my team. But I did notice how pretty your orange hair bow looked.”

  Jack patted his hair
gently, first with one hand, then with the other. “Thanks. My hair may never look that good again.”

  Alex waved to her twin as Ava, Kylie, and Jack walked into Sal’s half an hour later. Alex was sitting between Lindsey and Emily in a booth for six people, but this time she felt like she was part of the group. Across from them were Annelise, Tessa, and Rosa. Ava gave Alex a thumbs-up and with her eyes told her twin that it was okay that Alex was sitting with a different group. Alex and Ava had always been able to communicate silently with each other—their creepy twin thing, as Tommy referred to it. She could see that Ava didn’t care a bit if Lindsey and Emily were no longer paying much attention to her, now that Powder Puff was over. Alex was pretty sure Ava not only didn’t mind, but flat-out preferred it that way.

  Alex turned her attention to the conversation before her, which had suddenly shifted to the dance. Alex had been at school most of the afternoon, twisting paper flowers and hanging strings of lights, but they’d been mostly mindless tasks, so she’d had plenty of time to obsess about her outfit, and even more so about what her mother was going to wear to the dance. It still seemed so bizarre that middle school kids were supposed to bring their moms to Homecoming. And Alex hadn’t even had a second to discuss it with her mother!

  “What’s your mum going to look like?” Annelise asked Rosa.

  “Oh, you know. Not too flashy, but not too plain, either,” replied Rosa.

  “Mine’s going to light up!” said Emily, her eyes dancing. “We found some battery-powered LED lights that sparkle. They’re awesome.”

  “Your mum is going to sparkle?” Alex blurted out. She still couldn’t believe these girls were more interested in what their mothers were going to wear than what they themselves would.

  “Sure!” said Emily. “I think it’s going to look pretty great with my pink dress.”

  “But does she mind wearing sparkles?” persisted Alex.

  There was a confused silence.

  “Does who mind?” asked Emily.

  “Your mum.”

  “My mom?”

  “Yes, your mom.”

  “Who said anything about my mom?”

  Now Alex was truly confused. “Didn’t you just say your mom was going to be wearing sparkles and coming with you to Homecoming?”

  There was another momentary silence, and then suddenly everyone at the table erupted in giggles. Everyone except Alex. And then, because they didn’t seem to be the mean kind of giggles, Alex laughed weakly along with them.

  Rosa spoke first. “Alex, I think we have some explaining to do,” she said, not unkindly. “We’re talking about mums, not our moms.”

  “I thought you were suddenly speaking with English accents,” said Alex.

  More giggles around the table.

  “Mums are a Texas tradition,” said Emily. “They’re like—what would you call them, Lindz? Corsages?”

  “Giant corsages,” said Lindsey, nodding.

  “So they’re these giant corsages that girls wear to Homecoming. They’re made of ribbons and crafty stuff, and usually we make them ourselves, or our moms help us, although in high school the boys are supposed to make them for their dates.”

  “Oh,” said Alex, suddenly feeling faint. “I guess maybe I should go home and get started on mine.”

  “Mine took forever for us to make,” said Annelise.

  “Yeah, mine, too,” said Tessa.

  Alex plunked some money down on the table for her soda and scooted out of the booth. “I better make Ava come with me,” she said. “She’ll need one too.”

  Her friends wished her good luck, and she scurried over to tell Ava they had to go home right this instant.

  Even Ava seemed alarmed by the news Alex delivered to her, and she agreed to go home with Alex right away.

  “A mum?” Ava kept muttering under her breath as the two girls speed-walked home. “Whoever heard of a mum?”

  They reached home half an hour later. Thankfully, Alex saw her mother’s car in the driveway. “Mom! Mom!” she yelled as they flung open the kitchen door.

  Moxy scrambled to her feet in alarm and ran up to the girls, sniffing worriedly to be sure they were unhurt.

  Seconds later Mrs. Sackett came flying down the stairs, her toothbrush still in her hand, her mouth full of toothpaste. “Wuh! Wuhs wrong!” she said, her voice panicky.

  The door to Coach’s study banged open, and he was in the kitchen a second behind his wife, eyes wide.

  “It’s the dance tomorrow!” said Alex, panting heavily from the run home. “We need these things called mums. They’re like giant, weird corsages that only people from Texas know about.”

  Mrs. Sackett collapsed with relief against the kitchen counter, then turned to spit the toothpaste into the sink. “I thought some disaster had happened,” she said, rinsing her toothbrush.

  “It is a disaster,” said Alex. “Ava and I just heard about them tonight. Evidently they take hours and hours to make.”

  “Now, Al,” said Coach. “Let’s not panic here.”

  “Panic?” said Alex, her voice climbing. “Of course I’m panicked!”

  “Even I’m mildly panicked,” said Ava.

  “Panicked about what?” asked Tommy. In their haste, Alex and Ava had left the kitchen door open, and Tommy stood in the doorway.

  “Alex and I are supposed to wear these weird, giant corsages to the dance tomorrow night,” Ava explained. “And we didn’t even know what they were until tonight.”

  “You guys need to learn to chill,” said Tommy, moving to the refrigerator. He opened it up and inspected the contents.

  “Now that’s enough, T,” said Coach. “This stuff is important when you’re in middle school. Right, Laura? Laur?”

  “Mom,” said Alex sternly. “I don’t think laughing about this situation is appropriate here. This is a social disaster for Ava and me.”

  “I’m sorry, honey,” said Mrs. Sackett. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I have something to show you. Be right back.”

  Alex and Ava watched Tommy pull out a stack of cold cuts, mustard, and lettuce, balancing everything precariously on a pickle jar and holding the stack in place with his chin as he kicked the door closed and carried his supplies to the counter.

  Mrs. Sackett was back a minute later, holding something behind her back. Then, with a flourish, she brought her hands out and held up two items for the girls to see.

  Alex gasped. Even Ava looked impressed.

  “You made these for us?” Alex asked. She stared down at the huge, glittering mums, like oversize versions of first-place ribbons at a state fair, except that they were bedecked with sequins, curled silver and gold ribbons, and even fluffy white feathers. “These are totally awesome!” she said breathlessly.

  Ava was looking at the mums dubiously, as though she couldn’t imagine wearing such a thing. But that was Ava, of course, the girl who wouldn’t be caught dead with lip gloss on.

  “It was going to be a surprise, tomorrow,” said Mrs. Sackett. “I was talking to April Cahill at Ave’s game last week, and she told me all about the tradition. She helped me make them.”

  Tommy piled turkey and Swiss cheese onto the bottom half of his sandwich. As he picked up the jar of pickles, he cocked his head sideways at the mums. “Those are some seriously weird decorations,” he pronounced, and turned back to his sandwich construction. “Middle school is one strange place.”

  “Yeah, well, Lindsey told me that here in the great state of Texas, in high school, the boys make the mums for their dates,” Alex said. She turned to her mother. “So Mom, how do we hang the mums—”

  A spoon clattered to the counter. The rest of the Sacketts turned to look at Tommy.

  “Tommy? How come your face just went all pale?” asked Ava. “Tommy? You okay?”

  “I’m guessing he didn’t know about the mums either,” said Alex.

  “Texting . . . Luke,” croaked Tommy. His thumbs flew around his keyboard. Then he stood, waiting, his phon
e in his hand.

  His phone beeped. The rest of the Sacketts waited.

  Tommy read the text, and then lowered his phone carefully down onto the counter. “Luke says I need a mim or a ma’am or whatever it’s called too,” he said hoarsely.

  “Don’t worry,” said Alex. “I’m sure Mom’s thought about that, too. Haven’t you, Mom?”

  Now it was Mrs. Sackett’s turn to go pale. “Oh, sweetie. I had no idea. I never thought—I never dreamed—”

  Alex resisted the urge to say I told you so, but she couldn’t resist looking smugly at her brother. After all, he’d just been making fun of the whole mum tradition. But the expression on Tommy’s face was just too pathetic to bear. Plus, he really, really needed a haircut, but that was something to focus on later. Her mind raced.

  Coach looked uneasily from his wife to his son. “Is this something we can fix?” he asked. “You know crafty stuff isn’t my strength, but . . .”

  Alex snapped into action. “We can do it together,” she said. “I’ll go get Mom’s supply bin. Tommy, you go to the attic and bring down the box of Christmas decorations. I know they’re there because I carried that box up there on moving day. Ave—maybe you should call Kylie and ask for some suggestions. Her sister is super popular at the high school, and she’ll for sure be able to give us some guidance about making one for a high school girl.”

  Ava whipped out her phone. “I’m on it,” she said.

  Coach smiled. “Then I’ll make some cookies,” he said. “Come on, Sacketts. Let’s show what a little teamwork can accomplish.”

  CHAPTER

  THIRTEEN

  Saturday morning, Ava was still savoring her team’s easy victory over the Cleary Chargers when Alex appeared near the fence and beckoned her over. Ava knew that look on her sister’s face. It meant business. She dropped her big duffel bag near the bench and trotted up to speak to Alex.