At dinner that night, Alex was once again preoccupied. What a mess. If Ava would only agree to sit out, she’d have a story. But Ava could be so stubborn, so principled sometimes. Alex gloomily rolled a pea back and forth across her plate.
Tommy was chattering away about his concert on Saturday night. “We’ve just recorded our first EP, and we’re going to be selling it at the door.”
“What’s an EP?” asked Coach.
Tommy rolled his eyes. “The fact that you don’t know that, Coach, is precisely why you and Mom are not allowed to be there,” he said. “No offense.”
“It means an ‘extended play’ sound track,” explained Mrs. Sackett. “He thinks it’s embarrassing to have his old, uncool parents there, even though one of us knows what an EP is.”
Alex kept rolling the pea around, only half listening.
“You looked it up online,” said Tom with a grin. “And you still can’t come. Coach tends to attract his own crowd when he goes out into the world, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I understand, darling,” said Mrs. Sackett.
“Um, I made a decision,” said Ava suddenly.
Something about her tone caused everyone to stop and pay attention to her. Even Alex stopped playing with her food and looked at her.
“I’ve decided to sit out the game on Saturday.”
Coach and Mrs. Sackett both set their forks down and stared at Ava. Tommy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
Alex couldn’t believe what she’d just heard Ava say. It was as though Ava had read her thoughts! The twins had, of course, been doing just that their whole lives—Tommy called it their creepy twin thing. They didn’t just finish each other’s sentences. They often seemed to sense what the other was thinking before the other had thought it yet. But how amazing was it for Ava to sense how badly Alex wanted to do this story about her, even if Ava didn’t realize it herself?
Finally Tommy gave a low whistle. “You sure, Ave?” he asked. “That’s kind of an epic decision.”
Alex could barely contain her joy, but she carefully set down her fork and composed herself so she wouldn’t appear too excited. “I think it’s really admirable of you, Ave,” she said. Then she added, “If you feel like it’s the best decision, I mean.”
Mrs. Sackett gave Coach a look, and he seemed to understand that she wanted him to be the one to comment.
He put down his napkin and pushed his plate away, leaning toward Ava. “Honey,” he said. “I know this wasn’t an easy decision for you. We’ve raised you to stick to your principles and to try to do what’s right, what’s just. But this really is a tricky situation, and I respect your decision. Sometimes it feels right to put aside your indignation at the injustice of a situation and do what’s best for your team. Your mother and I support your decision.”
“So does your twin sister!” said Alex, trying not to bounce up and down in her chair. She leaped up to clear her plate. “I better get to work on my homework.”
As soon as she’d put in her share of cleaning up and putting away food, she hurried to her room to e-mail Marcy Maxon.
Just moments after she’d sent the e-mail, her phone vibrated. Marcy Maxon was calling her!
“Alexandra? Marcy Maxon here.”
“Oh! Hi!” said Alex, suddenly breathless.
“Good work talking your sister into the plan. Now you have a story. I like it a lot.”
Alex breathed a sigh of relief. Marcy Maxon liked it!
“. . . and plenty of human interest,” Marcy Maxon was saying. “Your sister will look great on camera. We can do an interview with the Briar Ridge coach and AD, real close-up shots with tough questions. Love it. What time is the game on Saturday?”
“It’s at ten,” replied Alex. “But, ah, Ms. Maxon?”
“This is showbiz, Alexandra. Call me Marcy.”
“Um, okay then, um, Marcy,” Alex replied, thrilled to the core. “And you can call me Alex. Here’s the thing I should mention: My sister wasn’t that enthusiastic about me doing a story about her. She doesn’t like to be the center of media attention the way I do.”
“Well then, talk her into it,” said Marcy promptly.
“Oh! Ah-ha-ha! I’ll try,” replied Alex, but it was a hollow laugh. “It’s just that—”
“Make it happen, Alexandra,” Marcy said.
“Okay,” said Alex in a tiny voice. How in the world was she going to get Ava to agree to this story?
“And keep the whole thing quiet,” Marcy cut in. “Don’t go talking it up around the mall, or wherever middle school kids congregate these days. We want this to be an exclusive. No media circus. We’ll come shoot the high school game tomorrow night and do some backstory. We can get some shots of your brother—what’s his name? Tim?”
“Tom,” said Alex.
“Tom. Yes. He’s on your father’s team, yes?”
“Yes, but—”
“And your father, of course. Maybe your mother, too. Will she be there?”
“Oh, um, sure.”
“Good. That will look good. We can get some footage in the can, maybe you can prep a little intro piece.”
“But what if—”
“Then we’ll show up at your sister’s game on Saturday. What’s her name? Anna?”
“Ava.”
“Don’t even tell Anna that we’re coming. That way, we’ll be the only crew there filming, and you can control the way the story is told. She’ll be fine with it once she sees it.”
“Well, maybe, but—”
“So we’ll meet you at the high school main gate, twenty minutes before kickoff tomorrow night.”
The phone clicked off.
Alex stared at it for a bit longer. Would Ava mind? Should she really not even mention that the TV people would be there? Surely she’ll come around once she sees what an awesome piece it will be, Alex thought.
But a tiny voice deep down told her that Ava really wouldn’t be okay with it. Alex tried to ignore it.
And then Luke Grabowski was standing at the doorway to her room. All thoughts of Ava flew from her head.
Alex leaped up quickly, knocking over her chair and nearly falling backward onto it. She recovered her balance, but just barely, and tried to pretend she’d meant to do it.
“Oh! Hey!” she said, casually righting the chair back onto its four legs.
“Hey yourself,” said Luke, grinning that one-dimpled smile of his.
Alex’s legs went weak. Was this the moment? Was he going to ask her to Homecoming?
“I brought you something,” he said.
Flowers? A locket? A charm bracelet? Some other token of his love for her?
But Luke was holding out a book. A very thick book.
“I don’t know if you’ve ever read Dickens,” he said, “but he’s one of my all-time favorites.”
“Ah,” said Alex. She took the book he was holding out to her—a well-thumbed paperback called David Copperfield. It looked like it was about two thousand pages long. “Thanks,” she said, trying hard to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
He shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe you’re not old enough yet, but—”
“I’m really super mature for my age!” she blurted out, and then immediately regretted saying it. Why did she have to act like such a dork around guys she liked?
“Anyway, you can keep it,” he said. “I have two copies. Well, off to see Ave. See ya, Al.”
“See ya.”
He poked his head back around. “Oh! Forgot to ask you—”
Her heart stopped.
“Are you going to your brother’s gig Saturday night?”
Her heart resumed beating. “Um—I—um, yes?” She’d almost forgotten about Tommy’s concert at the Press.
“Cool. Should be awesome. I told them I’d sell their EP at the door for them, so I’ll see you there.”
And he left.
Okay, so he hadn’t asked her to Homecoming. But he’d called her Al! And he’d basically asked her out on a date for Saturday night!
She fanned through the pages of the book, searching for a note he might have tucked into it, asking her to Homecoming. Nothing. Of course not. Luke was too classy to ask her by way of a note. He’d do it in person for sure. That’s why he’d made plans with her for this Saturday. That was when he was planning to pop the question. Maybe he was planning it as a big surprise.