CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

Late Wednesday afternoon Ava stood in Alex’s bedroom, wearing a skirt. A skirt. It belonged to Alex, of course, but she knew her twin wouldn’t mind that she’d borrowed it. She hadn’t seen Alex since the speech earlier that day. Alex and the other candidates had spent the lunch period in the teacher conference room, being interviewed by the staff at the school newspaper, the Cub Reporter, for a special online election edition that would come out the next day. And after school, Alex had gone to a debate club meeting, so Ava had come home by herself. She’d walked Moxy, eaten half a peanut butter sandwich, and then come upstairs to raid Alex’s closet for a skirt.

“I look like Alex,” she said out loud, as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Then she laughed, in spite of the several dozen butterflies flitting around inside her stomach. Of course she looked like Alex. But in a skirt, she really looked like her.

The school board was holding a special early meeting at six p.m. So Coach wouldn’t be there, even if he had wanted to come. He rarely got out of practice before six. Ava swallowed. She understood why he wouldn’t be coming with her.

He didn’t want to be the focus of everyone’s attention. He’d explained to her that this was her fight to fight, that he’d be thinking of her, that she needed to draw on all her grit and determination and stand up for what she believed in. And she’d told him she understood. But still, a tiny part of her wished he could be there.

A text came in from Jack.

Hey, good luck tonight.

Thanks. I’ll need it.

Do you have to say anything?

No, I hope not. I don’t think so.

Well, maybe I’ll see you. I’m going to try to come.

Thanks.

I thought your sister’s speech was awesome.

I did, too.

CU

CU

Finally she heard her mother and Alex come in. She glanced at the clock. The meeting would start in one hour.

Images

“I imagine there may be more people here tonight than at the usual school board meetings,” said Mrs. Sackett, as they drove to the high school. Ava was sitting next to her, already uncomfortable in Alex’s skirt. Its zipper was sticking painfully into her lower back.

Alex was sitting in the backseat. She’d insisted on coming along, and Ava was glad she was here. They’d even exchanged a big hug outside the bathroom just before they’d left. Ava had thanked her for her awesome speech.

“I just hope I lose to Ella, not Logan,” Alex had told her.

“I’ll try to park near the—” Mrs. Sackett broke off now, as she pulled into the high school parking lot.

“Wait. What’s going on at the high school?” asked Alex.

The parking lot was a sea of cars.

“Mom?” asked Ava in a trembling voice.

“It looks like they’re here for the meeting,” said Mrs. Sackett. “I’ll park over near the locker room area. We can try to get in through a side door.”

But the side door was locked. The three of them traipsed toward the front of the high school. Just as they rounded the corner of the building, they heard someone say, “There she is!”

Ava was suddenly surrounded by news reporters thrusting microphones into her face. Bright lights flashed. Several people were asking her questions at the same time.

“Ava, how did you feel when you were told you couldn’t play?”

“Ava! What does your father think about the possibility that you won’t be allowed to play?”

“Hey, Ava! Look this way for a minute!”

Pop! Flash!

Ava felt her mother’s arm around her waist. She was too short to see over the crowd of people mobbing her.

Suddenly a stern voice rang out. “Step aside, all of you! Let her proceed, please!”

It was Ms. Farmen, and she wasn’t a principal for nothing. For such a small woman, she had the sort of voice people listened to. Meekly the reporters dropped away, and a path opened up for Ava, Alex, and their mother. Ava smiled gratefully at Ms. Farmen as they passed into the building. The principal was standing with her arms crossed and an expression on her face that could cut through steel. But she winked at Ava reassuringly.

The meeting had been moved from the library to the auditorium because of the size of the crowd that had turned up. But several dozen chairs had also been set up on the stage, and Mr. Guajardo, the head of the school board, gestured to them as they walked down the aisle that the Sacketts should sit up there. Ava noticed the Kellys were in the row a few behind theirs. Of course, she wasn’t surprised to see them. She looked for Andy Baker out in the audience. There he was, sitting between what Ava assumed were his parents, in the second row of the auditorium.

Once they were settled in, Mr. Guajardo called the meeting to order, and then everyone stood up to pledge their allegiance to the flag. There was a roll call of board members, and then a motion to approve the proposed agenda.

Alex leaned across Ava to whisper to their mother. “When are they going to talk about Ava?”

“I think she’s the last item on the agenda,” Mrs. Sackett whispered back.

As the meeting droned on, Ava looked out at the people sitting in the audience and wondered if they were as bored as she was. She couldn’t see if Jack was there but hoped for his sake that he wasn’t.

The board discussed the annual review of the district’s crisis and emergency management and medical emergency response plans. Ava’s eyelids drooped. They discussed a proposal for another synthetic turf field at the high school. They discussed some calendar revision recommendations for the following school year. Ava’s chin sagged toward her chest. They discussed renaming the band room at one of the elementary schools after a recently retired band teacher. Ava was pinching herself on the thigh so as not to drop off when she felt an elbow in her ribs. Her chin jerked back up and her eyes flew open.

“Our next item regards the advisability of permitting inter-gender participation on the Ashland Middle School football team,” said Mr. Guajardo.

“You’re next!” whispered her mom.

“But I won’t have to say anything, right?” asked Ava.

“No,” said her mom. “You just have to—”

“If we may ask Miss Ava Sackett to stand, please,” said Mr. Guajardo.

The audience seemed to wake up from its collective dozing state. Ava shot her mother a horrified look as she stood up.

He looked up at Ava. “Is there anything you’d like to say to the board about your situation, Miss Sackett?”

“Um, no thanks,” squeaked Ava. She sat back down. She wished again that Coach were there.

“Would anyone else care to say anything on this subject?” asked Mr. Guajardo.

There was a brief commotion on the stage behind Ava. She turned around. Mr. Kelly had risen to his feet.

“The board recognizes Mr. Kelly,” said Mr. Guajardo.

Mr. Kelly took off his hat and held it against his chest. “I’d just like to say that with all due respect for this young lady, it is highly irregular for a girl to be permitted to play the great game of football.”

Ava’s mom had put her hand on Ava’s arm, and now Ava felt her grip tighten.

Mr. Kelly went on. “There’s a lot of rough contact, and a young lady might get injured, and the school district would be liable. There’s no call for a girl to be playing a boys contact sport, and the law permits her to be prevented for her own good, given that there is an alternative sport offered, volleyball, which is much safer and more appropriate for young ladies. Thank you.”

He put his hat back on and sat down.

Ava sprang back to her feet. “Actually, I would like to say something,” she said.

Mr. Guajardo looked a bit surprised. “Very well. The board recognizes Miss Ava Sackett. You may proceed.”

Ava swallowed. Her mouth had gone dry. Her heart was pounding. She did not like public speaking. Her anger and indignation had given her temporary courage, but now that courage drained away again. She looked at the members of the school board, who were all facing her, some with their hands folded in front of them, others with arms crossed—waiting. She looked out at all the people sitting in the audience.

And then she spotted Coach. He’d come after all! She could just make him out, silhouetted in the back doorway. She’d know his big, muscular frame anywhere. He must have slipped in so no one would see him. Her courage returned. She faced the board and spoke in a loud, clear voice.

“I’ve been playing football since I was three years old. I love the game. And my parents taught me the importance of fighting for what you believe in, the right way, with respect and persistence. And I don’t believe it’s fair to deny a kid the right to play a sport if she’s good enough to make the team. Well, Coach K told me I was good enough, and that if I were a boy I would be on the team. So I’d like to please ask that you make the decision to let me play football.”

Suddenly she became aware that Alex was now standing next to her.

“Mr. Guajardo, may I also say something?” asked Alex.

“The board recognizes Miss, er”—another board member leaned toward him and whispered something—“Miss Alexandra Sackett.”

“Thank you,” said Alex. “Ladies and gentlemen of the school board, my name is Alexandra Sackett, and I would like to say that it is unacceptable and unlawful to make a decision to bar a student from playing a sport based on her gender. This is a discriminatory policy and in clear violation of Title Nine, the 1972 federal law that mandates equal opportunities for men and women in education and athletics.”

As Alex took a breath, Ava stared at her sister in wonder and admiration.

Alex went on. “As such, today I started an online petition requesting that Ashland Middle School allow Ava to play. As of this evening, we already had over eighteen hundred signatures, and they were still coming in fast when I left for tonight’s meeting. I am sure the American Civil Liberties Union will take an interest in this decision if it doesn’t go the way it rightfully should.”

There was a murmur in the audience, and several camera flashes went off.

Ava linked her arm through Alex’s, and the two sisters stood side by side.

Mr. Guajardo took off his glasses, and then put them back on. “Well!” he said. “Those were very impressive speeches from both of you. Thank you, Miss Sackett, and Miss Sackett, for your remarks. I move that we dismiss the spectators, media, and guests for our discussion. We will notify you of our decision tomorrow.”

“Seconded,” mumbled someone else.

“Please clear the auditorium now.”

With that Mr. Guajardo banged his gavel. Immediately a crowd of reporters and parents and kids moved toward the stage. Ava turned to look at her mother.

“How do we get out of here?” she asked.

“Pssst! This way!” said a voice from offstage.

It was Jack Valdeavano, and he was beckoning to the Sacketts. Next to him were Coach, Tommy, and Kylie.

Quickly Ava, Alex, and Mrs. Sackett moved toward them, and they followed Jack backstage. They hurried through a dimly lit passageway and down some steps to a doorway with a lighted exit sign.

“You can get out this way,” he said. “I don’t think the reporters know about this stage door exit. My cousin is on the stage crew, and he showed me around recently. The parking lot will be just to your right, around the corner.”

“Thank you so much!” said Mrs. Sackett.

“Thanks, Jack,” said Ava.

“No problem. It’s the least I could do. You guys were awesome,” said Jack. “Now hurry up before they figure out where you’ve gone!”

“See you tomorrow!” said Kylie, giving Ava a big hug.

They got home ten minutes later, Mrs. Sackett and the girls in one car, Coach and Tommy in the other. Mrs. Sackett heated up the lentil soup she’d made earlier, and they all sat around the table.

“I’m proud of you girls,” said Coach. “You stood up for what was right, and you stood up for each other. A parent can’t ask for more than that.”

“Yeah, you guys were pretty cool,” agreed Tommy, ladling out the last of the soup into his bowl. “And I bet you’ll be on the ten o’clock news.”

They were.