Ava stood in the middle of her bedroom and listened. She’d never heard her house this quiet on a weekday morning. Usually by the time her mom yelled that she’d be late, Ava could hear Coach making breakfast, Tommy singing in the shower, and Alex fiddling with her straightening iron as she recited vocabulary words.
But not today. On this Wednesday morning she was up first, long before her alarm rang.
Today was the play-off game against Longhorn Acres Middle School. Ashland Middle School had to win to get into the state semifinals. Ava was fired up and ready to win.
She touched her toes, then dropped down for ten push-ups. She stretched her legs, loosening her muscles for the big kick. She played kicker. She was determined to make every extra point at today’s game.
She kicked one of her jerseys off the floor. It arched up and landed atop another pile of clothes. Ava’s messy room made Alex crazy. Unlike Ava, Alex was always so neat and orderly.
She scooped up the jersey nearest her and was about to pull it over her head when she remembered that the play-off was an away game. She groaned.
Ava had always loved football. She’d diagrammed plays in her coloring books when she was little. She’d slept holding a football instead of a stuffed animal.
But the only thing she hated about being part of the school football team was the away-game tradition. The entire team had to dress in their best clothes for school on game day.
For the boys, that meant suits and ties. For her, that meant a skirt, a nice shirt, and real shoes.
It was one thing to get dressed up for church and dinner at her grandma Beth’s house, but another to have to sit in class in a skirt. Ava supposed it showed respect, but she still hated it.
She opened her closet. Her denim miniskirt hung where her mother had put it after the last away-game day. It was her go-to skirt. It was the only one that wasn’t itchy.
Ava pulled it on. What do I wear on top? she wondered. The boys didn’t have this problem. Every week they wore the same suit and tie, as if it were a uniform too. Ava was envious.
In a back corner, she spotted a purple short-sleeved sweater. She vaguely remembered her mother bringing it home from a shopping trip when they first moved. She examined it. The tags were still on, and the material felt soft. Ava pulled it over her head and ripped off the tags.
She could hear Coach and Tommy moving around now. She rummaged in her backpack for the printout of plays for today’s game. She’d been over them so many times, but she wanted to be extra sure she knew them.
A knock sounded on her door, and her dad peeked his head in. His dark hair was covered by a Tigers cap. “I thought I was still dreaming when I saw your light on,” he teased. “Game day jitters?”
Ava shook her head. “Game day excitement.”
“That’s my girl!” Coach beamed proudly. “Tommy and I are going in early to watch film. The Rutland Raiders have a tricky running back. We need to figure out his moves.”
“Look who’s up early!” Mrs. Sackett called, stepping into Ava’s room.
“You guys act like it’s a big deal,” Ava said. “Look behind you. That’s a big deal.”
Her parents turned, and the three of them stared at Tommy. His button-down shirt was wrinkle free and tucked into a pair of ironed khakis. His curly hair was styled with what looked to Ava to be gel, and she’d smelled his cologne long before she saw him.
Mrs. Sackett squinted at her son. “What’s with the snazzy outfit?”
“Nothing,” Tommy said.
“Tommy has a girlfriend!” Ava sang out. “He’s trying to impress Cassie.”
“She’s your girlfriend?” Mrs. Sackett sounded surprised. “I thought she was just a Homecoming date.”
“She’s not my girlfriend. We don’t do labels like that.” He turned away, but Ava saw the blush creep up his neck.
“Tommy likes her,” Ava mouthed to her parents. She liked Cassie too. The one time she’d met her, Cassie had been wearing a Patriots jersey. If Tommy was going to get all crazy about a girl, at least it was one who not only liked football but also liked the Patriots.
Coach frowned. “Tom, this isn’t the time. Everything is riding on our game this weekend. I need your attention on the field. Not on some girl—”
“Thanks a lot, Ava,” Tommy called, heading down the stairs.
“Sorry,” Ava said. She knew it was hard for Tom to have their dad as his coach. He never got a break. “Hey, I’ll catch a ride with you guys now, okay? I want to get to school early too.”
She figured that was the least she could do for Tommy. Coach would talk to her about the upcoming game, and Tommy would get to just stare out the window and listen to his music.
As it turned out, no one talked in the car. Instead they listened to the local radio station’s sports show. Two announcers who said they were reviewing her dad’s coaching strategy managed to criticize everything he had done so far this season.
“Oh, please!” Ava cried. “Your team is winning. What are they moaning about?”
“Everyone in this town thinks they’re a better coach,” Tommy quipped. “The lunch ladies. The bagger in the grocery store. The crossing guards. You should hear them all go on.”
“You’re doing a great job,” Ava told Coach. “This is dumb.” She reached to turn off the radio.
“No!” Coach stopped her. “Leave it on.”
“Can Coach Sackett bring in the big win?” one announcer asked. “All the games up until now were child’s play. It’s all about the big win.”
The other announcer made a disapproving tsk-tsk noise. “A big win needs big experience. Coach Sackett doesn’t have the track record. I fear he doesn’t have the nerves for this level of football.”
They listened in silence as the announcers second-guessed every decision he’d made all year.
Coach shook his head. “They should try getting out from behind their microphone and onto the field. Then we’ll see who has the nerves for this game.”
Ava grinned. “You tell them!” If anyone knew how to best guide a team to victory, it was Coach. Ava wished everyone would stop questioning him.
Five minutes later, she stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of the middle school. The toxic radio show continued to blare out the car window as she watched her dad drive down the shared driveway toward the high school.
“Is everything okay?” asked a girl behind her.
Ava turned to find Charlotte standing there. Her long brown hair was piled into a messy bun, and she wore a cute tank dress and black ankle boots. Picking out an outfit obviously came easily to her.
“Fine.” Ava wriggled uncomfortably in her skirt. She didn’t know how to feel about Charlotte after what had happened Monday at lunch.
“You don’t look fine,” Charlotte said. “You look upset.”
“It’s my dad,” Ava explained. “The big high school game is on Saturday. If they win, they’re on the path to the state tournament. He’s supposed get Ashland the big win. That’s what they called it on the radio.”
“Can he?” Charlotte asked.
Ava shrugged. “He’s an amazing coach. But the Rutland Raiders—that’s who they’re playing—are a great team. Everything is riding on this. I mean, this is why we moved here. His birthday is on Sunday, and we can’t even talk about it, because he’s too stressed. He hasn’t baked anything in weeks.”
“And that’s weird?” Charlotte asked.
“Yes. Coach loves to bake. Cookies and muffins, especially,” Ava explained. “But his complete focus is on the game and nothing else.”
“Don’t you have a game today too?” Charlotte asked.
Ava raised her eyebrows. She was surprised that Charlotte knew this. They had barely seen each other since Monday. “I do. But I’m sure I can make the field goals if they aren’t crazy far.”
“To be honest, I have no idea what a field goal is. I’m thinking it’s a good thing. Perhaps better than barbecue?” Charlotte smiled.
“Definitely better.” Ava gave a slight smile. Then she frowned. “It’s horrible seeing Coach this tense.”
“A party is the answer,” Charlotte said. “And chocolate. Always chocolate.”
“He said no parties,” Ava reported.
“So how about just a family meal with all his favorite foods?” Charlotte asked.
Ava laughed. “Coach does love breakfast foods. French toast with powdered sugar, omelets, biscuits.”
“Have you ever had chocolate-covered bacon? It’s crazy good. There’s a restaurant in New York that sells it. You could make him that,” Charlotte suggested. “Chocolate plus breakfast. Pretty perfect, huh?”
“True,” Ava said, grateful to Charlotte for helping her come up with ideas. Then she shook her head. “But he won’t agree to it.”
“Make it a surprise for Sunday morning,” Charlotte said. “If he wins, he’s happy. If he loses, you have this amazing breakfast to cheer him up. I mean, who wouldn’t be cheered up by chocolate-covered bacon?”
“I like the way you think,” said Ava, following Charlotte into the school.
For a moment, she thought of asking Charlotte what had happened at lunch on Monday, but decided to let it pass. Charlotte had probably been nervous on her first day. Ava had said plenty of stupid things herself in the past. Charlotte was nice, fun—and she was obviously going to be a good friend.
That, Ava decided, is all that I need to know.
The front door slammed, jolting Alex awake. She blinked several times, her eyes slowly adjusting to the sunlight streaming through the gaps in her shades.
Then she heard Moxy whimper from all the way downstairs.
“Oh no!” Alex bolted upright. She knew what that sound meant. Her dad had left for school already. Moxy always cried when Coach left.
“It’s not really this late, is it?” She stared in horror at her bedside clock. She didn’t remember turning off her alarm. She gazed at her laptop, open on her desk. The windows on the screen were still open to the pages on psychic abilities in twins. She’d stayed up late reading.
“Alex? You up?” Mrs. Sackett called upstairs. “Ava left with Daddy and Tommy. Get dressed fast and you can still make the bus. I’ll wrap a muffin for you. Hurry!”
Alex swung her legs onto the floor and ran to her closet.
She didn’t do last-minute well. She liked to pick out the perfect outfit the night before. But last night she hadn’t been able to pull herself away from the screen.
She’d discovered that the better word to describe her and Ava was telepathic, not psychic. Psychic was too general a term. Telepathic meant two people could send information back and forth using only their minds.
A famous psychic researcher she’d read about reported that only 30 percent of all identical twins shared telepathic abilities. Were she and Ava part of that 30 percent? She couldn’t be sure. She’d taken several online quizzes, but the results were all over the place. Some telepathic twins reported never having to use words to talk with each other. They could just send messages with their minds. Was that what had happened at lunch on Monday? But then why didn’t Ava send her a telepathic message that she was leaving early? Didn’t she know that Alex had wanted to go in early today too?
“Alex, watch the clock!” her mom called.
Alex reached into her closet and grabbed the first top and bottom she touched. She sprinted to the bathroom, washed up, pulled her hair into a ponytail, and made it to the end of the block, muffin in hand, as the bus pulled up.
She kept her head down, reviewing the study guide she’d made for the social studies quiz today. She wondered if Ava had reviewed for her quiz this morning. Probably not. If Ava reviewed anything, it was her football plays. She and Ava were so different when it came to school.
When it came to clothes.
When it came to a lot of things.
Alex walked through the school halls toward her locker, her eyes still on her notes. She’d written each event on her Industrial Revolution time line in a different color. It made the study guide look pretty. And she liked pretty.
“Double trouble today, Alex!” Jack called loudly.
She looked up. “What?”
“Oops, I saw her again!” Logan Medina elbowed Jack. The two boys cracked up as the bell rang. They ran down the hall.
Alex shrugged. Boys were weird. She slipped into her seat in her homeroom.
“Ooh! Twice as nice,” Lindsey whispered across the aisle.
Alex wrinkled her nose. “Huh?”
“The whole matching thing,” Lindsey said. “Did you plan it?”
“Girls!” Mr. Kenerson called from the front of the room. “Listen up.”
As Mrs. Gusman read the list of after-school clubs over the crackly loudspeaker, Alex wondered what Lindsey was talking about. Did I plan what?
Before she could ask, the bell rang again, and Lindsey shot out the door to her first class, mouthing apologetically to Alex that she needed to study before her English quiz.
Alex headed down the opposite hall to science. Her mind snapped to the lab they were working on.
Slowly she became aware of the whispers.
And a giggle. A snicker. Another giggle.
She glanced to the sides of the hall. People were watching her.
Why? What’s wrong? Her palms began to sweat. She tugged at her skirt.
Another snicker. She raised her head.
“Oh, wow.” Her words came out in a whisper. She stared, her mouth hanging open.
Walking toward her was . . . her!
Same light-purple V-neck sweater. Same denim skirt. Same black flats. And the same face.
But it’s not, Alex suddenly realized. Not exactly.
“Ava!” she cried.
Ava hurried toward her, ignoring all the kids who had stopped to watch. Her familiar laughter spilled out in gasps. “Seriously, Alex? This is hysterical! Look at us.”
“W-why are you dressed like that? Like me?” Alex sputtered.
“I have an away game today, so I had to dress up,” Ava explained. “What are the chances? We haven’t done the matchy-matchy thing since those frilly yellow Easter dresses Mom made us wear when we were six. Remember? We looked like Peeps.”
What were the chances? Alex wondered. Her sister wore jerseys to school. Always.
“How did you choose that outfit?” She squinted at her twin. She didn’t even know they owned the same sweater.
Ava shrugged. “No real thought. I just grabbed what called to me. What about you?”
“Same,” Alex admitted. “Except—”
Goose bumps prickled her arms as the realization hit her. This was the proof she’d been looking for. “Do you know what this means, Ave?”
“That we can’t be seen together today?” Ava asked.
“No, it means we sent each other messages with our minds, and we wore matching outfits!” Alex cried. “We do have psychic abilities!”