Go! Fight! Twin! (12 page)

“Who's it from?” Alex asked.

“Charlie. I just texted him and apologized for being weird at Sal's and said how good it was to see him. And then he texted me and said one of the reasons he wanted to sit and talk with me last night was that he wanted me to know he'd sort of started going out with Caroline. And I texted back and said I knew, and it's cool. So we're cool.”

“So you just went from having two boyfriends to zero boyfriends—and you're happy about it?” Alex asked, shaking her head. “I just don't understand how we can be sisters, let alone identical twins.”

Ava grinned. “It's a wonder.”

The next day Ava joined her parents and Alex on the sidelines after her game. Flushed and sweaty, she was exhilarated by the win over the Titans.

“Nice game, Fourteen,” said Coach, whacking her affectionately on her padded shoulder.

She grinned happily. “It was a tough one, but I thought we played pretty well.”

“And you caught a thirteen-yard pass!” exclaimed Mrs. Sackett.

“Wait. Was she a wide receiver today?” asked Alex. “I somehow missed that.”

Ava and Coach exchanged a bemused look.

“Yes, honey, she played wide receiver for
almost a full quarter and did really well,” said Mrs. Sackett.

“Well, congrats!” said Alex.

“Here comes Mr. Kelly,” said Mrs. Sackett under her breath.

Ava didn't like the look in Mr. Kelly's eyes. She knew he didn't approve of her dad's coaching tactics, and now that she was playing wide receiver, she knew he also resented her taking playing time away from his nephew. He always acted nice around her dad, but Ava didn't buy it.

“Great game, young lady!” said Mr. Kelly as he joined the Sacketts. He raised his hat briefly as he nodded to Mrs. Sackett. “Y'all just cleaned their plow today!”

“Um, thanks?” Ava ventured, not sure if he'd meant it as a compliment.

“Howdy, Coach.”

“Doug,” Coach said with a nod.

“Say, how's that son of yours? I noticed he wasn't on the sidelines for the second half of the game last night.”

“Oh, he's just fine,” said Coach. “Tom got sick during the game. It was a sudden onset kind of thing. I sent him home to bed, but luckily, it seems like it was just a twelve-hour bug.”

Mr. Kelly pushed his half-glasses down his nose and fixed Coach with a beady stare. An uneasy sensation shot up and down Ava's spine; she had a feeling Mr. Kelly was enjoying himself.

“You don't say,” he said. “Well, I heard from Gladys Pike that there was a big band competition over at Eastern High last night. And she says your son was in that competition. And that he plum won it. Now isn't that the darnedest thing? Wonder how on earth she'd think she'd seen that son of yours, when you're standing right here, tellin' me he took ill.”

With a triumphant smile, Mr. Kelly crossed his arms across his burly chest and looked at Coach innocently.

Ava felt her heart plummet into her cleats. She heard Alex, next to her, give a little gasp of surprise. Her mother looked at Coach.

Coach's expression did not change, though. He merely nodded at Mr. Kelly and said, “Well, that Gladys Pike surely is a staunch supporter of the arts. Glad she enjoyed the concert. And now we Sacketts need to get this one home. Good to see you, Doug.”

And Ava felt his guiding hand on her back, propelling her toward the parking lot. Alex and
Mrs. Sackett followed them.

They rode home in silence.

When they got to their house, Coach walked in ahead of them and took the stairs three at a time. Ava heard the door to Tommy's room open and close, and the murmuring of voices.

“Do you girls know anything about this?” asked Mrs. Sackett.

“Mom! No! Of course not!” said Alex quickly. “Mr. Kelly was just making trouble. Tommy went home from the game. He was sick. Right, Ave?”

Ava didn't say anything. She just stared down at her feet.

Mrs. Sackett gave Ava a long look. “Go upstairs, Ava,” she said quietly. “We'll discuss this later.”

Ava ran upstairs and quickly showered. As she turned off the water, she heard Tommy and Coach's voices much louder. They were arguing. She couldn't make out the words, but of course, she didn't need to. She quickly threw on clothes and went to see Alex.

Alex was sitting on her bed, her eyes wide,
clutching her pillow closely. “Ave! Did you know about it?” she asked in a whisper.

Ava nodded. “Yeah. It was really important to him, Al. But wow, I feel terrible. Lying can really get you into big trouble. It's not worth it.”

Alex nodded. “Even if you don't get caught. That's why I confessed to Coach Jen about trading places. I couldn't take the guilt. Tommy did get caught, and it sounds way worse than if he'd just gone and told Coach the truth.”

They heard Tommy's door open, and the shouting grew louder. Then they heard feet stomping down the stairs, and the front door slammed.

“I think that was Tommy!” whispered Alex.

Ava just nodded. “This is bad, Al,” she said.

Ava lay awake past midnight that night, thinking about everything that had happened. Tommy hadn't returned. She could hear her parents in their room talking. She lay awake, listening to the night sounds outside. Then at last, at about 12:20 in the morning, she heard the kitchen door open and knew Tommy was finally home. There was a
cathunk
of the refrigerator door being opened.
Cathunk
as it closed. Dishes, silverware clanking. In her parents' room, the talking had stopped. Were they asleep? Or listening to the sounds of Tommy making himself a midnight snack?

She thought about going to see her brother
but then changed her mind. She heard his footsteps coming up the stairs. The door of his room closed. Then the house was quiet.

Sunday morning Ava woke up early, but Tommy's room was empty, his bed a rumpled heap of sheets. She headed down to the kitchen, but it was empty too. Her mother had left a note on the kitchen table saying she was out for a long run. Through the window over the sink, Ava could see Coach outside in the backyard, hammering something on the battered old door of the shed.

She texted Tommy.

Where are you?

He did not reply for a full five minutes. Then:

I'm practicing. At the church.

Ava ate a quick bowl of cereal and went outside to see Coach.

“Morning,” he said shortly, without pausing in his hammering. He had added a crosspiece of wood to the back of the door of the shed and was hammering it into place. In his baggy, faded jeans and black, faded-to-gray T-shirt, Ava thought her dad looked like a teenager. He could be Tommy's twin, at least from the back.

She sat on an overturned bucket and watched her dad finish his task. When at last he began picking up his tools, she said, “Hey, Coach? Want to go for a walk with me?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Sure, honey. Where to?”

“Just . . . not far. I want to show you something.”

He held her gaze for a moment, as though sizing up her earnestness, and said, “Let me put these tools away. I'll meet you in front in five.”

They set off in silence, Ava leading the way down the block. It was early enough that they didn't meet any neighbors, and only one vehicle passed them, a beat-up old pickup truck stacked high with fat sacks of grain. Ava didn't know what Tommy had told Coach about his concert
and his scheme. Did Coach know she had been Tommy's accomplice? Was he angry with her, too? Knowing Tommy, he would have told Coach only whatever was absolutely necessary, but knowing Coach, he had gotten to the truth by asking just the right perceptive questions. She kept quiet.

A few blocks later Ava saw the church, a pretty little building with weather-beaten white siding and a simple steeple. The sign out front said that the next service was at noon, and it was just past nine.

As they drew closer, Ava could hear some very unchurchlike music: jazzy, syncopated rhythms and an upbeat melody. Next to her, Coach stopped and stood still. Ava looked up at him. He had the strangest mixture of emotions playing across his face—like the toy kaleidoscope she had owned and loved as a little kid. You twisted it and wild colors and patterns morphed and emerged and changed into other patterns. Passing across her father's face, one after another, Ava could see anger change to pride, then exasperation, then admiration, then weary resignation as he stood listening to Tommy play.

“Coach?” she asked softly, squeezing his hand a little. “Do you want to go inside?”

He looked down at her, startled, as though he'd forgotten she was there. “Yes,” he said, and the two of them climbed the front stairs and entered the church through the heavy wooden double doors.

From the back of the empty church, they stood still again and listened to Tommy play. He was so engrossed in his piece he didn't seem to have heard them come in. But as they made their way down the side aisle toward the piano—a gleaming black baby grand—Tommy looked up, and the music stopped. He sat quietly, watching them approach, his face impassive.

Ava tugged on Coach's shirt. “Should I leave you guys alone?” she whispered.

He looked down at her, nodded, and ruffled her hair.

She turned and headed back outside to sit on the front steps of the church. It faced east, and the warm, late morning sun glinted off the stained-glass windows.

After a few minutes, Coach emerged and stood next to her on the top of the stoop. They didn't speak, but Ava could feel that he wasn't too mad. Maybe not mad at all.

“Do you want to head home?” Coach asked her.

“Maybe in a little while,” said Ava.

Coach nodded. Ava knew he understood she wanted to stay behind to talk with Tommy. She watched her dad trot down the steps and turn toward their house, his long, lanky stride showing how much of an athlete he still was.

A few moments later the door opened behind her, and Tommy sat down next to her on the step. They sat in silence. Then she said, “How did it go?”

“As well as could be expected,” said Tommy. “I'm suspended for two games, but he had to do that, and I knew it—he can't treat me differently from any of the other players. I told him I love football, but I also love music, and he accepted that.”

“That's great,” said Ava.

“Yeah, I think he's even a little proud of me. He's not proud of the fact that I lied and that Mr. Kelly knows it. But he knows I won't pull that again. After the season's over, I'll have a lot more time, obviously, to rehearse.”

“That's awesome, Tommy,” said Ava. “You want to walk to the park and shoot around with me?”

“Nah, I've got a while before they start showing up for the next service here, so I'm going to
keep practicing. But I'll catch you later.”

Ava went to the park anyway, and saw Jack shooting around. She approached cautiously, because she wasn't sure how things stood between them. When he saw her, he bounce-passed her the ball, and she drove in for a reverse layup.

“Lucky,” he said with a grin. “Get warmed up and I'll whup you in one-on-one.”

Ava smiled back and started dribbling.

Jack won the first game, and Ava the second. They were just about to start the tiebreaker when Ava spotted Alex approaching, walking Moxy. When Moxy saw Ava, she tugged at the leash, and Alex dropped it, allowing Moxy to bound across the play area toward Ava.

Jack held the ball while Ava petted Moxy. He shook his head as Alex approached. “I forget how much you two look alike,” he said. “Sometimes it's really hard to tell you guys apart.”

“Good thing we don't dress alike,” said Ava, shooting Alex a mischievous glance.

Alex smiled back. “Yeah, good thing.”