Up in her room, Ava lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The house, usually full of laughing, talking, singing, and barking when the whole family was home, was eerily quiet. Her parents were talking in murmurs in their bedroom down the hall, and Tommy was in his room, playing moody songs on his keyboard. She assumed Alex was in her own room, too. Maybe she’s color-coding her sock drawer, Ava thought, and then immediately regretted it.
Moxy had sensed that something was amiss and had followed Ava upstairs. Now the dog lay alongside her, and Ava stroked her black, brown, and white fur softly. Every so often, Moxy rolled her eyes upward to look worriedly at Ava.
The awful block party kept playing over and over in her head, like a video set to loop. She hadn’t really meant to say such mean things to Alex. It must have been the long buildup, the stress about their dad, and—
Their dad. What had he and Tommy been fighting about? Was Tommy upset that he was facing a long season of sitting on the bench? Was he upset because Coach was being rough on him? Or did he really, secretly, deep down, not care that much about football? Maybe Coach sensed that at some level and didn’t want to admit that his own son wasn’t as passionate about the sport as he was.
Tommy seemed to be good at nearly everything he did. He was a natural athlete, a gifted musician, and charming. Girls fell all over themselves when he was in the room, but he didn’t really seem to notice. Ava had always had a special relationship with her brother. She suspected that Alex was a little jealous of their bond, but then, didn’t Ava deserve it, just a little? How much more did Alex want? Things always seemed to come so easily to Alex—she was pretty, popular with kids and with teachers, and got good grades. Ava was already dreading the start of school next week. Teachers usually decided by day one that she wasn’t a top-notch student, that she wasn’t paying attention, that she was a daydreamer. The comparisons to her twin sister that teachers made were never in Ava’s favor. So she didn’t feel guilty if she was her brother’s favorite.
There was a knock at her door, and her dad entered without waiting to be invited.
Moxy raised her head anxiously, saw that it was only Coach, not Mrs. Sackett, and put her head back down on her paws.
“Hey, sport,” said Coach. He looked around the room and winced a little. Ava did have to admit, the mustard-yellow color was hard to take in. And the room didn’t look very cozy. Boxes were stacked throughout the room, clothes were draped across most surfaces, and none of her posters were on the walls. She really ought to start sprucing it up.
Coach moved into the room with his customary athletic grace. For an older guy, he still had the physique of an elite athlete. Back in high school, he’d been the quarterback and the captain of the basketball and baseball teams. He’d been recruited for both football and basketball for college. Ava hoped she had inherited even half of his athletic prowess.
He gave Moxy a gentle shove to the side and sat down on Ava’s bed. “Fun party, huh?” he said.
“Super fun,” Ava deadpanned, stroking Moxy. “And I didn’t even get a barbecued spare rib.”
Coach laughed, then was quiet. “Have you and that sister of yours had a talk?”
She shook her head and turned onto her back. “No,” she said, crossing her arms. She was quiet for a minute. “We’ve just gotten really . . . different . . . since we moved here. We don’t seem to see eye to eye much.”
“She’s the best friend you’ve got, and ever will have, and you know that,” he said. “And you know her better than anyone. Alex handles change by taking control over it. Then you changed, but she can’t control you.”
Now Ava was quiet for a minute.
“I didn’t change to hurt her.” She sighed. “But I see what you mean. I’ll talk to her. But Daddy—” She stopped herself. Should she even bring it up?
“You never call me ‘Daddy,’ Ave—what’s up?” He waited, his clear green eyes searching her face, encouraging her to go on. So she did.
“I’m worried about something else. Alex and I both are.”
“About me?”
“Yeah . . . about your job.”
“Honey, Alex and I already discussed this. I told her there was nothing to worry about. Besides, we haven’t even had our first game yet.”
“I know, I know, but I keep hearing gossip. Mostly about what PJ’s mom is saying. She’s going around bad-mouthing you to anyone who will listen. She says you’re hard on some of the players, especially PJ. And that you’re not using the receivers and the running backs the right way, or something like that. I’m worried that”—she swallowed down a huge lump that had risen in her throat—“I’m worried that if you keep being hard on the stars on the team, your job might be on the line.”
Her dad pressed his lips together and smiled. “Ave, I don’t think we have to worry about Mrs. Kelly all that much, to be honest. The other coaches warned me about her long before I even got here. She’s infamous around these parts. She’s complained about her son’s coaches since PJ was just out of diapers, it seems.”
“She has?” Ava pushed up to a sitting position, allowing herself to feel a tiny bit of relief.
“Yes, she has. And PJ is a good kid. A nice kid. But he’s lazy. He’s such a good athlete, he’s never really had to work hard. It’s the same thing with Tyler. So far, they’ve both gotten by on raw talent. But they’re at the point now where they need to learn to work hard: to learn the plays, to show up for practice on time and ready to perform, and to become positive contributors. Leaders. That’s going to be the difference between a talented team making it to state, and actually winning state. We all need to go the extra mile.” He sat back and looked reflective. “If I have been a little hard on them, it’s for their own good.”
“And what about Tommy?” asked Ava in a small voice. “Do you think you’ve been hard on him, too?”
Her dad looked at her and stroked his scruffy chin. He was silent for a moment before he spoke. “Maybe I have been, honey. Maybe I have been.”