Alex finished her math problems in record time that night, moving on to plow through her science lab report. Across the kitchen table, Ava chewed the eraser on her pencil and stared at the ceiling.
How can we do our homework so differently? Alex wondered. We look exactly alike. We came from the same parents and entered the world at the same time. Technically Alex showed up twelve minutes before Ava. “Alex is always first out the door,” her mom liked to joke.
Yet Ava had barely finished half her math problems. She stared distractedly around the room between each one, while Alex pushed through, as if running a race. Tonight she wanted to spend time on a new room makeover website. Instructions for a do-it-yourself fabric bulletin board had caught her eye. If she could get her mom to help, she thought it didn’t look too tricky.
“Ready to work?” Luke sauntered into the kitchen, surprising both of them. “Tommy let me in.”
“Hi!” Alex sang, stunned by his warm smile. She quickly straightened the gray T-shirt and flannel pajama pants she’d changed into after dinner. Why hadn’t anyone told her Luke was coming? She would have worn something pretty. And put on makeup. Oh no! What did her face look like? She hadn’t looked in the mirror since she’d come home.
“Oops, I forgot about you,” Ava admitted. “But I’m glad you’re here. I’m kind of stuck.”
Luke pulled out a chair, then turned to Alex. “Sorry to kick you out of your study space.”
“No problem.” Alex gathered her books. “I was done anyway.”
“Okay, cool.” He pointed to her pencil sketch on her lab report. “Awesome cell diagram.”
“Really? Thanks!”
We’re having our first real conversation! Alex realized.
“What are you working on now?” he asked.
“Still scien—” Alex began.
“Math,” Ava answered, and Alex belatedly understood the question hadn’t been for her.
“How are the problems going?” Luke had turned his full attention to Ava.
Alex felt hurt, then reminded herself that her parents were paying him to tutor Ava, not talk with her. She took her time organizing her papers.
“I can’t answer a lot,” Ava admitted.
Luke glanced at her worksheet. “You’re not trying. I know you can do these. Something is up, right?”
“Yeah,” Ava admitted slowly.
Alex gaped at Luke. How did he know? She was usually the first to sense when something bothered Ava.
“Football trouble,” Ava explained.
“You should talk to Daddy or Tommy,” Alex advised. “They’ll help.”
“It’s not that kind of football trouble.” Ava rapidly twirled her chewed-up pencil. “It’s boy football trouble.” The story of Owen spilled out. Ava squeezed her eyes shut as she finished. “Now the whole team is angry. They blame me.”
“How can they blame you? You didn’t do anything,” Alex said. “You never asked him to like you.”
“Exactly!” Ava cried.
“It doesn’t matter,” Luke interjected. “To a guy, it’s very black and white. Owen’s skills are tanking, and he’s flipped out over you; therefore, other guys say you’re the cause. No gray area there.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Alex said. “Maybe I could talk to them.”
“Could you?” Ava sounded relieved.
“No,” Luke said. “Ava, you need to handle this on your own. Be proactive and stop it cold before this poor guy gets more lovesick and lousier on the field.”
“Stop what?” Ava asked. “What am I supposed to stop?”
“Stop him from liking you,” Luke said simply.
“Oh, yeah, like that’s easy,” Ava scoffed.
“Find out all the things this Owen kid dislikes in a girl. The things that bother or annoy him.” Luke grinned. “Then do them. All of them!”
“I like the way you think!” Alex cried, impressed with his take-charge attitude. “Owen will want nothing to do with you, Ave.”
A slow smile spread across Ava’s face. “I could do that.”
Alex agreed. “You can fix this easily.”
Alex put Mission: Owen into effect Tuesday morning when she entered school. She’d agreed to help Ava, and her first stop was her friend Emily Campbell’s locker. Emily lived next door to Owen, and as far as Alex knew, they’d known each other since they were in diapers.
“Love your top!” Alex called, as she approached.
Emily gazed up and grinned. “It’s cute, right? I pulled it out of Julia’s closet after she left this morning. She’s only worn it once. I’m so dead if she finds out, but I figure I can put it back before she gets home. The high school lets out ten minutes after us.”
“Impressive! Living on the edge in the name of fashion.” Alex admired the rhinestones on the hem of Emily’s blue-green ombré shirt. “You’re so lucky that your sister has such an awesome closet to raid. You’ll have to run home fast. You live nearby, right?”
“Down the street.” Emily tucked her long blond hair behind her ears, as she leaned against her locker door.
“Oh right, aren’t you on the same block as Owen Rooney?” Alex asked, as if she’d just stumbled on this fact. This was going easier than she’d planned.
“Next door. You know Owen?”
“Kind of. Not really.” Alex leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Can you tell me about him?”
Emily’s eyes lit up. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything. Likes. Dislikes . . .” Alex’s voice trailed off as Lindsey approached.
“Who are we talking about?” Lindsey dropped her canvas book bag onto the floor to rearrange her blond hair into its ponytail. Lindsey and Emily were the “three Bs”: blond, beautiful, and best friends. Alex had known instantly on the first day of school that they were the popular ones, and popular was where she wanted to be. She hadn’t wasted any time becoming their friends. The added bonus was that they both turned out to be really nice.
“We’re talking about Owen!” Emily squealed.
“Shh!” Alex cautioned, glancing around. The halls were crowded, but kids seemed more intent on putting books in lockers and getting to homeroom than listening to them. One more high-pitched squeal from Emily would quickly change that.
“Alex wants to know what he likes in a girl,” Emily confided to Lindsey.
“Really? You and Owen?” Lindsey sidled closer to Alex. She paused as if considering the match. “He seems a little quiet for you.”
“He’s not bad-looking,” Emily put in. “And he’s super nice.”
“I’m not asking for me,” Alex protested.
“Oh, please, like we’d ever believe that whole ‘I’m asking for a friend’ routine.” Lindsey wrapped her arm warmly around Alex’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be shy with us. I like the idea of you being interested in Owen. I like it a lot!”
Alex was startled by Lindsey’s reaction. Not that Alex had totally stopped liking Corey, but she’d assumed that with the two of them dating, and after she’d pretended to date and break up with Ava’s best friend Charlie from back in Boston, Lindsey no longer viewed Alex as a threat.
Maybe she’d been wrong.
“Em, tell her everything you know,” Lindsey encouraged.
“Seriously,” Alex said. “I’m not asking for me. It’s for”—she knew Ava did not want her situation to go viral—“a girl on student council.”
“Really?” Emily asked suspiciously.
“Cross my heart,” Alex assured her. “I’m so not interested in him.”
“Who is?” Lindsey asked.
“A sixth-grade girl who’d be mortified if I told you,” Alex said. “So what’s Owen’s type?”
“I don’t think he’s ever had a girlfriend,” Emily said. “He’s very chill, you know? He keeps things simple. He’d go for an easygoing girl he could pal around with. He doesn’t like show-off girly-girl types. Whenever I wear makeup and go to the mall, he gets on my case. He hates the smell of hair spray and, get this, lavender. He gags when I wear my lavender hand cream.” She thrust her hand under Alex’s nose. “I think it smells nice, don’t you?”
“It’s pretty,” Alex agreed, making a mental list for Ava. Already she could see why Owen liked her sister. “Anything else?”
“He likes sports and, oh yeah, he hates cats. Can’t stand them.”
“Good to know,” Alex remarked. Where could she rustle up a cat for Ava?
“I need a list like this for Greg Fowler,” Emily said with a sigh.
“Isn’t he a twin too?” Alex asked.
Emily nodded. “Greg is so much cuter than his brother Tim.”
“I want Em to hurry and get together with Greg, and then Corey and I can go with them to the dance,” Lindsey confided.
Instantly Alex saw them in her mind. Lindsey and Corey entering the dance, hand in hand, everyone turning to admire them. The perfect couple. Her insides twisted at the vision, and then the vision itself twisted. Now she stood in Lindsey’s place.
Hand in hand with Corey, their fingers intertwined.
“I’m working up my nerve,” Emily said, jolting Alex back to reality. “I borrowed Greg’s pencil yesterday.”
“What about you, Alex? Who’s your dream date for the dance?” Lindsey prodded.
Your boyfriend.
Alex gulped. Yeah, right. But she had to say something.
“He’s in high school,” she blurted out.
“For real? Tell all!” Lindsey commanded.
“His name is Luke, and he’s friends with my brother Tommy,” Alex explained. “He’s over at our house a lot, and we’ve talked a bunch.”
“Just you and him? Without Tommy?” Emily asked.
“Yeah. Really deep conversations. Not like this middle school stuff, you know?” Alex didn’t mention that he was Ava’s tutor. She didn’t think her sister wanted that private information circulating either. “He appreciates how much I care about school. And he’s so insanely cute!”
“A high school boy!” Emily squealed. “Do you think you’ll see him again soon?”
“He told me specifically he was coming by my house later this week,” Alex said.
Emily’s eyes bulged with admiration. Even Lindsey looked impressed.
“Well, got to get to class,” Alex said, knowing that if she stayed any longer, she risked messing up her story. As cute as Corey was, her high school guy totally outranked a middle school quarterback.
I did not lie, she reminded herself as she walked away. She pushed down the tendril of guilt snaking through her brain. Luke had told her he was coming back for another tutoring session. Besides, Lindsey had asked about her dream date. Luke was the definition of a dream date.
If she couldn’t go out with Corey, she might as well dream about Luke.
Ava was dying to turn around.
Eyes on the board, she reminded herself. She watched Jack find the missing angle of an obtuse triangle. He attacked the problem, writing on the board with sure, certain strokes.
I’ll look back after he finishes. No, after the next problem is solved, she decided.
Ever since the beginning of math class, Ava had been twisting in her seat to catch a glimpse of Owen.
Owen watching her.
His gray-green eyes trained on her.
As if she were doing something interesting.
She didn’t get it. She’d barely had time to brush her hair and throw on a sweatshirt this morning before racing to catch the bus. He’d be better off staring at Bridget Malloy, who sat next to her. Her shiny hair was woven into an intricate French braid with turquoise ribbon expertly threaded through it. And the ribbon matched her turquoise ruffled shirt!
Ava shook her head. No, Owen should be thinking about Kylie. She hoped Alex was getting good dirt on Owen, so she could shut down this staring business. But she also needed to get him interested in Kylie. Maybe that was the trick. If she could show him how great Kylie was, he’d stop caring about her. Kylie was awesome. He just didn’t know it yet.
She jolted when the end-of-class bell rang. She hadn’t noticed the time. As all the kids pushed toward the door, she gathered the worksheets scattered haphazardly across her desk.
I have to get organized, she thought for the millionth time as she shoved the papers into her binder, not bothering to open the rings. Two worksheets fluttered to the floor, and she knelt to pick them up.
“Need help?” Owen hovered above her, looking amused.
“No, no, I’m good,” she assured him, righting herself. She glanced around. They were the only two left in the classroom. Even Mrs. Vargas had fled.
Another awkward silence.
Owen watched her expectantly.
Ava wished a football would suddenly appear. If she had a football to toss with him, things would feel normal. They wouldn’t have to talk if they had a football.
“Great kick yesterday,” Owen said.
“Thanks,” Ava replied shakily. Why is he repeating himself? And why am I so nervous? She never usually had problems talking to boys about sports. And that’s what this is, she reminded herself. We’re talking about football.
“The wind was cooperating yesterday,” she went on. “I hate that dry wind you have here in Texas. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
Ava babbled on about velocity and wind speed as they headed for the door. She wondered how to transition the conversation to Kylie.
“My friend sometimes helps me with my kicks,” she began, although this wasn’t true.
“Look, uh,” Owen broke in. “Thisisforyou. Ithoughtyou—ImeanIhopeyou—” His words rocketed out in an enormous run-on sentence that she couldn’t decipher.
Face flushed, Owen tried to continue. “Iboughtthisforyou.” He thrust a small pink box with a tiny bow into her hands. Then he took off down the hall, racing away as if the opposing team had sent all their linebackers after him.
Ava watched him go in a daze. Slowly she lifted the top off the box. A delicate silver bracelet lay nestled in a fluff of white cotton. She lifted it to the light. A tiny silver football charm dangled from the bracelet’s center.
She blinked rapidly. A boy had given her jewelry. Her! Jewelry! The concept was too unreal.
She wished she liked him back. But she didn’t.
She thought of the team. Of Coach K’s disapproving glare. Of Corey and Xander’s frustration as Owen failed to complete pass after pass. And of Kylie’s eager face.
She tucked the bracelet back into its box. She would give it back. No question about that.
She wondered what would happen next. Would returning Owen’s gift make things better—or worse?