No one brought up the party the next day in the Sackett household. It seemed everyone would rather forget it and move on.
Neither Alex nor Ava slept well Sunday night. Early Monday morning Ava climbed out of bed and stumbled sleepily down the stairs to watch some dumb TV.
She discovered that Alex was already sprawled out on the couch. The sisters exchanged a wary look. Ava hesitated, trying to decide if she should stay. Then she shrugged and settled into her usual place at the other end of the couch. Moxy jumped up and nestled between them.
An hour later Mrs. Sackett appeared in the doorway, her hair up in a kerchief, wearing her painting clothes. “Ava Jane,” she said firmly. “We need to paint your room whether you like it or not. You may be fine with that hideous mustard color, but I, personally, can’t stand it. School starts next week, so now’s the time.”
“Okay,” Ava said. “I do want to put up my posters.”
“Come have some breakfast,” Mrs. Sackett commanded. “Then the two of you can move Ava’s stuff out into the hallway.”
It took most of the morning for Ava and Alex to stack Ava’s still-packed boxes into the hallway, along with her posters, which were all still carefully rolled up and stored in special poster canisters.
Alex offered to help their mom prime the room. “It will be so satisfying to get rid of that hideous color,” she said.
“Should I help too?” asked Ava.
Alex and their mother exchanged a look. “I think we can do it,” said Mrs. Sackett.
The last time Ava had tried to help paint, she’d started daydreaming halfway through and had painted half the ceiling bright red before she realized what she was doing.
So Ava went to practice with Coach and Tommy.
That night, Ava and Moxy slept on the couch. Alex had been firm about the danger of breathing volatile organic compounds, but Ava couldn’t help notice that Alex hadn’t invited her to sleep in her room.
The next morning their mom announced that Ava’s room was still under quarantine. It was going to require two coats of paint to completely cover up the mustard color. “Why don’t you girls go somewhere for the morning?” her mom suggested. “I can drive you wherever you want.”
Ava looked at Alex. “You want to head to the pool?” she asked her.
“Can’t,” said Alex shortly. “I have to study.”
Ava’s brow furrowed. “Study? School hasn’t even started yet.”
“I have twenty-five more vocab words to learn,” said Alex with a patient sigh. “And I’m taking pre-algebra this year; there are some sample problem sets I found at the back of our new textbook that I want to try.”
Ava shrugged. “Okay. Maybe I’ll take Moxy to the park and play some basketball.”
“Good idea,” said her mom.
Half an hour later, Ava let the screen door slam shut behind her and Moxy—she was gradually becoming acquainted with the new house, but she kept forgetting that the screen door slammed. They set off on foot for the park. Moxy strained at the leash, thrilled to be on an unplanned outing on top of her morning walk.
Ava’s large sports bag bumped against her back with each step—it had been a birthday present from Alex last year, a special backpack that had a net pouch large enough to accommodate a basketball or a soccer ball. This time she had even remembered to pack some water for herself and for Moxy in it.
As they got closer to the basketball court, Moxy suddenly strained on the leash and pulled her along the sidewalk faster. Ava looked up. It was Jack. He was heading toward the park from the other direction, riding his bike.
He slowed to a stop at the entrance and waited for her and Moxy to catch up.
“Hey,” he said, grinning.
“Hey yourself,” she said back, feeling her ears get hot.
Moxy sniffed his leg and looked at him adoringly, her tail wagging back and forth like crazy.
“Guess Moxy likes you,” said Ava.
“All dogs love me,” Jack admitted, stooping down to ruffle Moxy’s head. “I can’t explain it. I don’t have a dog myself, because my mom’s allergic. But most dogs I know just seem to decide their lives will be incomplete if they can’t spend every moment in my presence.”
Ava laughed. Her heartbeat quickened a little too. Not only was he an athlete, but he was funny. It was always so great to discover that someone had a good sense of humor.
“Do you come here a lot?” she asked him, as they headed toward the court.
He hesitated. “Well, I ride by here a lot,” he said. “These days.”
What does that mean? she wondered. Was he looking for someone? Was he hoping to see me? No. That was stupid. He had a girlfriend—that Lindsey person. Although Ava wouldn’t have guessed Jack would date someone like Lindsey. She shook her head. She really needed to stop with these dopey thoughts.
“You brought your ball,” he said. “Okay if I shoot around with you? There’s usually a game going on here—guys from AMS mostly—but I guess it’s a little too early in the day.”
“Sure,” said Ava. “If you’re not afraid I’ll school you again.”
“Oh, I’m very afraid,” he said with a grin.
Ava instructed Moxy to sit and stay, and the dog obediently sat at the edge of the court to watch them. A squirrel darted up a tree nearby, and Moxy looked at it longingly but stayed where she was.
“Wow, that’s impressive,” said Jack, gesturing toward Moxy.
“I know,” said Ava. “My sister trained her. She’s not the most well-behaved dog on the planet, but Alex insisted on teaching her a few basic rules.”
“That does seem to fit with your sister’s personality,” he said.
Ava wondered if she should follow up his comment and apologize to him for her sister’s coldness. But it seemed too . . . personal. She kept silent.
Jack was checking a text on his phone. He bounce-passed the ball to her. “Some guys are showing up here in a little while. Maybe we can get a game going.”
“Sure,” said Ava. She hit a bank shot and moved to the next spot around the circle. “Is, um, Lindsey a basketball player?”
“Lindz? Ha. No. Strictly girly stuff like cheerleading,” he said, passing the ball back to her.
Ava’s next shot clanged off the rim and rolled away.
Jack trotted after the ball and then held it. He looked at her steadily. “There’s something you should know about me and Lindz,” he said.
A few hours later Ava burst through the kitchen door; she couldn’t wait to tell Alex her news. She and Jack, and, later, some of Jack’s friends, had played several games of full-court basketball, and she had played well. She and Moxy had jogged all the way home, and now Moxy went straight to her water dish. But except for Moxy’s loud lapping, the house was surprising silent.
Of course, Coach and Tommy would still be at practice. But where were Mom and Alex?
“Hello?” Ava called.
No answer.
Then she saw the note on the kitchen table in Alex’s perfect handwriting.
We’re upstairs.
Puzzled, she set down her backpack and headed through the kitchen and up the stairs.
“Mom? Al?”
No answer. Another note lay at the top of the stairs. She picked it up.
We’re in your room.
Was she in trouble? Had something bad happened in her room? Maybe she’d left a box of tissues on the floor again, like she’d done once back in Massachusetts, where Moxy had spent a delightful morning chewing them up one by one and leaving them all around her bedroom. Her mom had not been happy with her. But that couldn’t be. Moxy had been with her all morning.
She put her hand on the knob and slowly turned it. “Hello?” she said. Cautiously, she pushed the door open.
“Surprise!” shouted Alex and Mrs. Sackett at the same time.
The first thing she saw was Alex’s face; her expression was both hopeful and nervous. Then she saw the same expression on her mother’s face. Then she saw the room.
They had painted it, but it was not beige. It was a light, pretty blue. All her sports posters were up on the walls. They’d unpacked all her boxes of books and trophies and arranged everything neatly on the shelves. They’d even rearranged the furniture, so now her bed was in the corner under the window. She could sit on the end of the bed and actually see outside. There were new curtains, a bedspread, and a rug, all complementary blues, greens, and corals. It wasn’t overly decorated; it was just homey—and it was perfect.
Ava’s mouth fell open.
“Do you like it?” asked Alex breathlessly.
Ava nodded slowly. “It’s awesome.”
Alex and Mrs. Sackett let out a collective sigh of relief.
“How did you have time to do all this?” asked Ava. “I haven’t been gone very long.”
“I did the second coat last night,” said Mrs. Sackett. “So the paint was already dry. We were able to do the rest this morning. It was all Alex’s idea. She came with me to choose the paint, and she made the curtains and the bedspread last week, with Grandma’s old sewing machine. I didn’t even know she knew how to use it.”
Alex shrugged modestly. “I didn’t. But you can teach yourself anything on the Internet,” she said.
Ava opened her arms, and her mom and Alex stepped into her embrace.
“Thanks, you guys,” she said. “Honestly, I didn’t think I cared what my room looked like, but now I see how much I do. It feels like home now.”