“Sackett! A moment, please.”
Practice had just ended. Ava was doubled over, trying to catch her breath. So was everyone else, though—at least she wasn’t the only one. She stood up, and the world tilted one way, then the other. She knew her hair was spiky with sweat, and her face must be red as a berry, which was what usually happened after a tough workout, and this had been tough. She hadn’t had a single opportunity to do any kicking, though. How was she supposed to try out to be a kicker if they hadn’t kicked?
Instead they’d gone through a series of physical tests: the forty-yard dash, sprints up and down the field the long way, shuttle runs from one sideline to the other, running forward, backward, forward, and backward, until the ground beneath Ava’s feet seemed to roll like an ocean wave and she saw stars all around her. They’d done something the coaches called the pro-agility test, which involved sliding side to side from one cone to another. She’d remembered what her dad had told her about keeping low and staying balanced on the balls of her feet, and she’d been pretty happy with how she’d done. She’d beaten the kid she’d been partnered with on the drill, and although she knew that might have embarrassed him, she didn’t feel all that bad.
She made her way toward Coach K, who was standing at the sideline with one of the assistants—was it Coach D’Annolfo?
“So, Sackett,” Coach K said, and whipped off his sunglasses to wipe a hand across his brow. He stared down at his clipboard without meeting her eye. Coach D seemed especially interested in the cord attached to his whistle.
“Am I getting cut?” asked Ava. Her voice came out in a croaky whisper.
“What?” Now he looked straight at her. “No. Well, maybe, but I don’t know yet.” He sighed with apparent exasperation and began again.
Ava waited, holding her breath.
“It’s not so simple,” said Coach K, sounding a tiny bit less gruff than before. “Tomorrow we wear pads, and I’m concerned about the contact. Like I said, I need to bring this matter up with the athletic director.”
Coach D nodded in agreement but said nothing.
“But there’s nothing in the rules. I checked,” said Ava.
“Yes, yes, I know that. But there may be some liability issues involved, and I need to get the go-ahead. I’ll try to have it resolved by practice time tomorrow.”
Ava nodded, feeling a big lump in her throat. She turned to head toward the locker room.
“Sackett!”
She turned back.
“You looked good out there,” said Coach K.
Coach D nodded.
“Second-fastest time in the pro-agility test,” Coach K said. “Good work.”
She turned around quickly so they couldn’t see how big her smile got, and walked away with a little more bounce in her step.
Ava barely made the late bus home. As they drove, she kept smiling to herself, thinking about what Coach K had said. She considered texting Charlie, her sort-of boyfriend back home. He’d understand about the pro-agility test. He played football too. But she decided not to. They hadn’t really been texting much recently.
She shouted hello to her mom in the kitchen and ran up the front stairs to shower. She could smell the chili cooking and realized she was starving.
A few minutes later she joined the rest of her family at the dinner table, her hair still dripping. Alex was talking a mile a minute about how she’d gotten her hundred signatures and what was going to happen in the next phase of her campaign, and how glad she was to have gotten ahead with her studying over the weekend because she had a million, no, a zillion posters to finish tonight.
“And what’s doubly lucky is, our science class is going on a field trip to the science museum tomorrow,” Alex said, “so I don’t have any homework for tonight. Can I get a ride with you and Tommy tomorrow morning, Daddy? I need to get to school early to put up my posters before we leave for the museum.”
“Sure, thing, Al,” said Coach. Then he turned to Ava. “So how’d it go at tryouts today, sport?”
“Good and bad,” Ava replied. She stirred her bowl of chili slowly.
Mrs. Sackett set down her glass and looked carefully at Ava. “Honey? Did you make the team?”
“Tryouts are going to be most of the week,” said Ava. “Today was just testing and conditioning, and I think I did okay. But Coach K said I might not be allowed to play, because I’m a girl.”
Coach pursed his lips.
“Lame,” pronounced Tommy as he helped himself to seconds on chili.
“I was worried that might happen,” said Alex, sighing.
Mrs. Sackett’s eyes blazed. “What is he talking about?” she said, indignation written across her face. “Of course you’re allowed! Doesn’t Title Nine mean anything to anyone around here?”
“What’s Title Nine?” asked Alex.
Mrs. Sackett looked at her, took a deep breath, and replied, “It was a law passed way back in the early 1970s that said there can be no discrimination based on a person’s gender. In other words, girls get to play the same sports boys do, and if there’s not an equivalent girls’ team, a girl should be allowed to play with the boys.”
“Oh!” said Alex. “Then there should be no problem!”
“Coach K says there might be a problem,” said Ava. She told them what he had said about bringing it up with the athletic director.
“If they tell you anything other than you’re allowed to play, your father and I will be there first thing tomorrow to meet with them,” said Mrs. Sackett. She turned to Coach. “Right?”
Coach had remained quiet during the conversation. He set down his fork and cleared his throat. “Not so fast, Laura,” he said.
Mrs. Sackett raised her eyebrows.
“You know as well as I do that coaches don’t welcome parents who fight their kids’ battles,” he said.
“But this is—”
Coach raised a hand so he could continue. “This is Ava’s situation,” he finished. “She needs to work things out as best she can.”
“But Michael, if this escalates into a big deal with the district, she’s going to need us.”
“If that happens, we’ll be there to support her,” he agreed. “But for now we need to let Ava handle it on her own. It should stay between her and her coach.”
“But—”
“Mom,” said Ava, “Coach is right. I’ll wait and see what Coach K says tomorrow. I’ve done my homework—well, not my actual homework, but I’ve researched the rules and stuff. I want to make the team because I’m good enough, not because I’m a girl or because my parents made a big fuss, or worst of all, because I’m Coach Sackett’s daughter.”
“You go, Ave,” said Tommy approvingly.
“What was the matter with volleyball, again?” asked Alex.
Ava glared at her. Tommy threw a piece of roll at Alex.
“All right, never mind,” said Alex with a shrug.
“So we’ll wait and see,” said Coach.
“Okay, can we get back to me for a minute?” asked Alex.
The rest of the family groaned.
“Mom, I really need an outfit for my first campaign speech,” said Alex, undaunted. “It’s this Friday at lunchtime, although there’s a final speech next week. For this one, all three of us have to speak for three minutes, and then the students have a few minutes to ask us questions. I think I should wear a snappy red blazer—isn’t that what candidates wear on television?”
“Are you going to be on television?” asked Tommy.
Alex rolled her eyes. “That’s not the point.”
“Honey, we’ve spent enough money on clothes for you this year,” said Mrs. Sackett.
“She can have some of whatever you would have spent on me,” said Ava with a shrug.
“No, she can’t,” said Mrs. Sackett firmly. “But I have been planning a trip to a thrift store I heard about around here. I’m hoping I can find some costume jewelry for my new ceramics project. You can come along with me if you want. Maybe you can find something there that you can afford with your allowance money.”
“Good idea!” said Alex, jumping up from the table. She cleared away her plate and tried to take Tommy’s, but he shook his head and pointed at the pot of chili, indicating that he wanted a third helping.
“I’ll be upstairs, working on my posters,” said Alex. “I need to come up with a good campaign slogan.”
“I’ve got one,” said Tommy. “ ‘Vote for Alex. Because Otherwise Her Family Will Go Bonkers.’ ”
“Ha-ha,” said Alex, and left the kitchen.