A Lot to Tackle, page 8
“I’m calling Coach.” Ava lifted her phone and quickly spoke to their dad.
Alex watched out the front window as the bus backed up, then stopped. Her dad stepped out and jogged a few feet down the side of the road. With his hand, he kept his orange baseball cap from flying off his head in the breeze. Mrs. Sackett met him, and together they surveyed the back left tire.
“How much longer to Austin?” Ava asked Alex.
Alex quickly calculated the distance. “Maybe a little less than two hours?”
“How long does it take to change a tire?” Ava asked.
“Beats me. I’ve never done that. Why?” Alex asked.
“The team has a practice in the Austin stadium at seven o’clock tonight. It’s their only practice on the field before the game tomorrow. They can’t miss it,” Ava said.
Alex did the math. Even without changing the tire, getting to the stadium would be tight.
The trunk popped open. “Hey, girls.” Their dad grinned in at them. Then he stepped back, as he took in all the suitcases, comforters, pillows, and stuffed animals that crowded the space. “What’s with all this? Hotels have bedding.”
“I like my flannel comforter, Coach. You know that,” Ava said. She hated rough blankets.
“And I can’t sleep without my own pillow,” Alex said.
“And without Poppet,” Ava added.
Alex reached over the seat and snatched her bedraggled, barely stuffed rabbit. She’d slept with Poppet forever. Going to bed without her pale-pink bunny felt wrong.
“Scoot out and help me unload this stuff. I need to unearth the spare tire and a jack.” Coach began piling their bags behind the car.
Alex stepped into the slightly cool air. The sky showed hints of purple. The sun would soon set. The high school boys pressed their faces against the back windows of the bus. She felt ridiculous holding Poppet under her arm. They must think I’m a silly little kid, she thought.
She perched Poppet on top of the suitcases and comforters that created a wall around the back of the car. She watched her dad pry the silver hubcap off the tire.
Her phone buzzed. Tommy texted.
Are you guys OK? Driver won’t let me off bus. School rules.
Flat tire.
Alex planned to write more, but then she heard Mr. Whittaker.
“Mike! Mike! What is going on?” Mr. Whittaker, his belly straining against a too-tight Ashland High sweatshirt, hurried off the bus and down the road toward them.
“Flat tire, Floyd,” Mrs. Sackett explained.
“Listen, darlin’, I’m sorry about that. Tough break, but you’ve got a spare, so you’ll be fine. Mike, we need you back on the bus,” Mr. Whittaker said.
“I don’t know how to change a tire,” their mom admitted. “I’m sorry, Floyd.”
“Laura, some other fine person will help you. Aha! Here comes the cavalry!” Two other cars pulled up several feet behind them.
“See?” Mr. Whittaker said. “Now, come back on the bus, Mike.”
“Give me a minute.” Coach Sackett strained to loosen the lug nuts with the wrench.
“There’s no time. We need to get moving, or we will miss this practice.” Mr. Whittaker’s voice grew harder.
“I’m not leaving my family on the side of the road.” Coach wedged the jack under the car. He pumped the handle to raise the car.
“You must get back on that bus. You are putting the team in jeopardy,” Mr. Kelly said, getting out of one of the cars. Now he stood with Mr. Whittaker.
“All I’m asking for is a minute here,” Coach growled. He stood and wiped his hands on his khaki shorts.
The football players began to pound on the windows. The bus appeared to shake.
“Mike, your job specifies that you are to be on that bus with those boys, not with your family,” Mr. Whittaker said. “I’m speaking on behalf of the Booster Club.”
“I agree.” Another man had left his car and joined the adults. “I’m speaking on behalf of the school board.”
“I can’t leave until the tire’s changed,” Coach protested.
The adults moved, so they now stood on one side of the suitcase-comforter barrier. Alex and Ava remained on the other side with the spare tire and the tools.
“Just get on the bus and do your job!” cried Mr. Kelly. He lifted his cuff to show everyone the time on his watch.
“Do my job? In this town, it seems as if football coach is everyone’s job.” Coach threw his arms up in exasperation.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mr. Whittaker countered.
“If you just step back and let him work, Michael will fix the tire and win the game,” Mrs. Sackett said.
“Not if we get there too late to practice,” the man on the school board grumbled. “This is not about what you want, Coach.”
“This is bad,” Ava murmured. “They’ll never let us stay in Ashland now.”
Alex watched the boys slide the bus windows down to hear the argument. She watched the adults yelling about the time and coaching and who knew what else. She studied the tools at her feet and the car jacked up off the ground.
This is crazy, she thought. The tire could’ve been changed by now.
She clicked on her phone and found a step-by-step tire-changing video. Not too hard, she decided.
“Ava,” Alex said. “Help me.” She handed her sister her phone.
Ava glanced at the video. “But we don’t know how. We could mess it up.”
For a second, Alex wavered. Ava was right, they could mess it up. But then she heard the adults shouting. She remembered the time. She thought about the team not practicing and not winning, and her dad losing his job and her family leaving Ashland.
“We can’t think like that. We should try.” She grabbed the tire wrench. “I think I remove the lug nuts.” Alex crouched next to the tire. “These look like lug nuts, right?”
Ava crouched next to her. She held the phone screen next to the tire, as if playing a matching game. “They have to be.”
Alex twisted the wrench. The lug nuts popped off. She handed them one by one to Ava. Then, using both hands, she pulled off the tire. “Whoa!” She stumbled under its weight. None of the adults noticed. Their argument heated up. Mrs. Kelly joined her husband.
With Ava’s help, Alex placed the flat tire on the ground next to the spare. “We’re both going to have to lift the spare. On three,” Alex commanded. “One . . . two . . . three.” They hoisted the tire up and into place. Ava was strong from all that football conditioning.
Alex focused all her attention on the video. “Okay, now I need to put the lug nuts back on.” Ava dropped the shiny pieces of metal into her sister’s hand, and Alex tightened them into place. Then Alex instructed Ava how to use the jack to lower the car.
“This is fun,” said Ava, pumping on the jack.
“It is, kind of,” Alex agreed. She opened the trunk and put the flat tire where the spare used to be, then began to rearrange their stuff. She ordered it much better than their mom had. She tucked Poppet in beside her pillow.
As soon as their barrier disappeared, the boys on the bus noticed the tire. They began to whistle and clap.
“What’s going on?” Mr. Whittaker stopped arguing.
Alex waved the shiny hubcap over her head. “Excuse me!” she called. “If you don’t want to miss that practice, everyone better start driving.”
“But the tire? How?” Coach Sackett scratched his head as he walked toward the car.
“It’s all changed.” Alex handed him the wrench, and he checked that she’d properly tightened the lug nuts.
“Amazing!” he declared as he replaced the hubcap. “My twelve-year-old twins saved the day.”
“It was Alex’s idea,” Ava said. She smiled warmly at her sister. The first time since the Lindsey-Corey argument.
“What a take-charge girl!” Mr. Whittaker patted her back. “Alex can do it all.”
“No, I can’t,” Alex said. “I can’t play football, and I can’t drive that bus. Go, go, go!”
Because Mrs. Sackett had to drive more slowly on the spare tire, the Kellys agreed to stay near the Sacketts’ car for the rest of the trip. Coach Sackett raced onto the bus with Mr. Whittaker. The players cheered, and the bus sped away.
“Alex is a dynamo!” Mrs. Kelly gushed to their mom.
As they settled back into the car, Ava sniggered. “You’re a dynamo? Who says ‘dynamo’?” she teased.
“Okay, maybe not the best word choice,” Alex agreed. She smoothed her hair and sat up straighter. The old Alex was back!
No, not the old Alex, she decided after a minute. She wasn’t perfect. She couldn’t do everything all at once and do it well. But that doesn’t mean I can’t get great grades and do great things, she thought. I’m not giving up on my dreams because of one bad week.
She looked over the invisible line at Ava. She didn’t know what was upsetting her twin more—the girls at school turning against her or the chance that Coach wouldn’t be brought back next season. Alex suddenly wanted to fix everything for her.
One thing at a time, Alex cautioned herself. She’d let Tommy and the team work on winning the game. She’d find a way for their whole group to be friends again.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
Usually Ava hated noise and crowds, but not tonight. Sitting in the university stadium stands filled with Ashland orange and blue and hearing fans from all over root for the team her dad coached filled her with pride. She was a part of this too. A part of the town. A part of the team. In a strange way, she felt as if these strangers were rooting for her.
“Go Tigers!” she yelled spontaneously, as they walked down the bleachers to get in the concession stand line Friday night.
“Give ’em that roar, Sackett!” called a man she vaguely recognized from the car wash in their town.
And she did. She roared. A woman snapped her picture, and for once, Ava didn’t care. Their team was ahead at halftime.
“Ave, do you want a soft pretzel or popcorn?” Alex asked when they reached the front of the line. Mrs. Sackett ordered three bottles of water.
“Pretzel.” Ava spotted a woman with a long braid slung over one shoulder waving merrily at her. She raised her hand to wave back, then abruptly dropped it to her side. What’s she doing here? she wondered. She’d never thought Mrs. Cookson would like football. She’d certainly never counted on her traveling to Austin for the game.
“Here.” Alex pushed the warm pretzel into Ava’s hand as they headed back to their seats. Oh no! In a matter of seconds, her mom and Mrs. Cookson would cross paths. She couldn’t let that happen. Not now. Not yet. Mrs. Cookson would mention the interview on Monday, and Mrs. Sackett would be confused, and ugh! Ava groaned.
She’d planned to tell her mom before the game. Then they’d had the flat tire yesterday. When they’d arrived at the hotel, Mrs. Sackett helped settle all the football players, and then she and some of the other parents hosted a late-night coffee-and-cake party in the lobby. Today had been all about the game. They’d attended a pregame tailgate and had even been interviewed by two local newspapers and one local TV station.
And now the Tigers were ahead. Maybe Mom won’t have to go for the interview after all, Ava figured. Then Ava remembered her own game. And her failed kick. Anything could happen in the second half.
“Mustard!” Ava cried. “I need mustard.”
Alex wrinkled her nose. “Since when? You don’t like mustard.”
“I do now.” She grabbed her mom’s sleeve. “Mom, come to the condiments table with us.” She expertly maneuvered her mom and sister away from Mrs. Cookson. The condiments table was crowded. Ava successfully tucked herself and her mom behind some large ex-football players drowning their fries in ketchup.
“Here’s the mustard,” Alex said, pointing to the large yellow jug.
“Oh.” Ava contemplated squirting it on her pretzel. She was hungry, and the warm pretzel smelled so good. Why ruin it? “Actually, I’ve changed my mind.”
“I knew it!” Alex said triumphantly. “You can’t fool me.”
“Hello, Ava. Enjoying the game?” Ava was startled to find Mrs. Cookson by her side. “This must be the twin sister you told me about.”
“I’m Alex,” Alex introduced herself before Ava could speak.
“Hi, I’m Michelle Cookson. Are you Laura Sackett?” She turned to their mom, who smiled back. Over the past day, Mrs. Sackett had become used to strangers coming up to her. Their whole family had gained instant celebrity.
“I am. Great game, isn’t it? Both teams are playing so well,” Mrs. Sackett replied, even though she had no idea who Mrs. Cookson was.
“I’m so glad we get to say hello now. I’m looking forward to hearing more about your ceramics,” Mrs. Cookson said in her warm, husky voice.
“You are?” Mrs. Sackett smiled, but Ava could see her desperately trying to place the tall woman with the braid. She wore a white linen dress, which made her stand out among the fans in sports jerseys and logo sweatshirts.
“I’m curious to hear your thoughts on integrating ceramics into the existing arts curriculum. In a private school, we are fortunate not to be restricted to certain mediums. There’s a lot more freedom to experiment at Rosewood. It’s what makes our school so special,” Mrs. Cookson said.
“I’m sure it is, but, if you don’t mind, who—” Mrs. Sackett began, obviously uncomfortable at not being able to follow the conversation.
“Oh, Mom. Mrs. Kelly is waving you over. She seems desperate to tell you something. Do you think it has to do with PJ? I hope he’s feeling okay. He looked healthy in the first half, but you never know. You should go speak with her.” The words tumbled out. Mrs. Kelly hadn’t waved, but Ava had spotted her in the crowd. Ava didn’t know how else to pull her mom away.
“Go, go, Laura. We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other later,” Mrs. Cookson said graciously.
“Who was that?” Alex asked after they’d walked away.
“Truthfully, I have no idea.” Mrs. Sackett shook her head. “I’m usually so good at remembering names and faces. This game must have rattled my brains. Or else I’m getting old and forgetful.”
“You’re not getting old,” Ava assured her. “But she seemed really nice. Didn’t she?” She would fill her mom in later. After the game. After the Tigers won.
Please, please win, she sent a silent prayer to the football gods.
As the fourth quarter approached, Ava wasn’t sure the football gods had heard. Or maybe they had and were mocking her. She should never have lied about Mrs. Kelly wanting to talk to her mom about PJ’s health. The Tigers had maintained a slight lead throughout the entire game, but now PJ looked sluggish. His pace had slowed, and his passes lacked the speed and precision that had brought the team this far.
“PJ’s not back to his full strength,” Mrs. Sackett explained when Ava vented her frustration. The score was now tied.
“Well, he better do something. Someone better do something!” Ava cried. They were so close to winning. She couldn’t imagine leaving Ashland because one boy hadn’t been feeling well. Especially not if that boy was Andy’s cousin!
She spotted the large Kelly/Baker family sitting a few sections away from them. Most of their friends who had traveled to the game sat with their families. Ava hadn’t really spoken to anyone since arriving here. She and Alex had stayed in their room during the coffee-and-cake party, eating room service and watching a movie. At the tailgate, their family had been swarmed by well-wishers and reporters.
“Ave!” Alex grasped her arm and squeezed it. The fourth quarter was starting. “Dad is pulling PJ out. He’s putting Tommy in!”
“Seriously?” Ava cried. Their mom began to cheer.
“Is this a good thing?” Alex asked.
“I’m not sure.” Ava was nervous for Tommy. She couldn’t see his face behind his helmet. She couldn’t judge how confident he felt. “I want it to be a good thing.”
Ava, Alex, and Mrs. Sackett balanced at the edge of their seats as Tommy threw pass after pass. They were solid passes, and the game slowly moved upfield.
“You can do this, Tommy!” Ava cheered until her voice was hoarse.
As time fell off the clock, Alex complained, “He’s playing it too safe. He needs to do more!”
“No, he’s playing it smart,” Ava corrected. “He’s keeping the game in our control.” Slow and steady would let them win. Risky hero maneuvers could ruin it all. Ava trusted that Tommy knew that. Of course he does, she thought. Coach had trained him just as he’d trained her. Sacketts knew how to play football.
She glanced at Alex. Well, most Sacketts did.
With only two minutes left, the game remained tied. The crowd went wild. All eyes and hopes and dreams rested on Tommy. Tommy had successfully brought their team down to the thirty yard line, but Ava worried whether he could continue to stand up to the pressure. She feared going into overtime.
And then, as if he’d been reading her mind, Coach pulled Tommy out and sent PJ back into the game. The stands erupted at the sight of their beloved quarterback. PJ attacked with renewed energy. Tommy had allowed him to rest and had kept the game on track, setting up a great field position for his return.
Ava felt dizzy. In minutes the game would be over. Tommy might not have been the best player out there, but she knew he wanted to win for one of the same reasons she did—to stay in Ashland. Their fate now lay in the hands of Andy’s cousin and Kylie’s neighbor.
Thirty seconds after hitting the field, PJ raced down the right side with the ball cradled in his arms. Linebackers cleared a path, blocking potential tackles. Ava sprang to her feet. “Go, go, go!” she screamed, as PJ ran past the twenty yard line . . . past the ten . . . the five . . . TOUCHDOWN!
The Tigers had won State!
Ava flung her arms around Alex. “We’re staying!”
CHAPTER
TWELVE
The lobby of their hotel felt like the middle of a parade in Ashland’s town square. Everyone the Sacketts knew, and many people they didn’t, crammed into the sleek space and offered hearty congratulations, backslaps, handshakes, and the majestic Tiger roar to the players and their families. Plans were made for celebration dinners and parties in Austin.
