Split Decision (6 page)

She left him alone. Sometimes when she was in a bad mood, she just wanted to be in a bad mood and didn't want Ava trying to cheer her up. Instead she talked to Emily about the English test. The bell finally rang, and Alex hurried to
the trash can so she could walk out with Emily. She was dying to see what her friend thought of Corey's moodiness.

“Alex.” Corey appeared next to her.

“Hi.” She grinned. He had snapped out of it already.

“I can't go to the movies on Friday.”

“Okay,” Alex said, relieved they were talking again. “Maybe Saturday then? Or I bet we could move it all to next week.”

“Um . . .” He stared at his sneakers. “That won't work.”

“The movies? We can do something else,” she offered. She hadn't wanted to see a scary movie anyway.

“No. I don't think so. There's a lot going on right now, so it's just not . . . not going to happen.” He took a large step back, then another, putting distance between them.

“Is this about Max?” Alex asked suddenly. Corey couldn't still be jealous, could he? She'd only been helping Max with social studies. “I don't like him like that.”

“I know, you told me that. But you can do whatever you like, anyway . . . it's a free country.” He crossed his arms and refused to meet her gaze.

Alex stared at him. Why was he talking about America being a free country? “So, are we—?”

“No. Look, I've got to, uh, get to class.” He hurried out of the cafeteria and was swallowed up by the hallway crowds. Part of her wanted to chase after him and beg for an explanation. But the part of her that stayed frozen next to the trash can knew the horrible truth.

She had been dumped.

“You coming, Alex?” Emily waited for her with Lindsey and Rosa.

“No. I need to do something,” Alex lied, struggling to hold back the tears. She wasn't ready to tell her friends—who all had boyfriends—that she been dumped
before
her first date.

Ava burned up the court on Monday afternoon in the game against the Plainview Pioneers. The Plainview girls played hard. Ava tried to play harder. She dodged the guards and hit the rim from the outside. Then she sank a three-pointer. Mr. Wonder was right—she wasn't a quitter.

But Tamara was everywhere. Every basket Ava netted, Tamara netted two. Ava sprang up
for a layup. Tamara jumped higher. Ava blocked. Tamara blocked harder.

“You show 'em, Tam!” Mrs. Baker yelled over and over from the stands.

“You're messing up our plays, Sackett,” Tamara said under her breath as they set up again. “Hang back a bit, okay? I've got this.”

Ava seethed. She didn't want to hang back. Why did Tamara think she was queen of the court?

“Teamwork, girls!” PJ Kelly called from the side. He leaned heavily on his crutches, tracking the game's progress.

Just hearing his voice made her angry. Her dad still knew nothing about his dirt bike accident and the Saint Francis super-team tryout.

Ava turned her focus back to the action on the court, but Plainview scored eight points in a row. The louder Mrs. Baker screamed and the more Tamara shone, the more frustrated Ava grew. She tried to get around the Plainview guard and found herself fouled once more for roughness.

Coach Rader called her out and sent Jane in. Ava sat on the bench and closed her eyes. Why had she done that?

“Hey, Little Sackett.”

Ava opened her eyes to find PJ sitting next to her. His brown eyes searched hers, and he gave her a slight grin. “Tough time out there?”

Ava stiffened and looked away. She refused to talk to him.

“Doesn't look promising.” He pointed to the scoreboard. Their team was down sixteen points with only three minutes left.

Ava stayed silent.

“You don't need to do that out there, you know,” he said softly.

“Do what?” So much for her short-lived vow of silence.

“All that pushing and fouling. You have great skills. Let them shine. You don't need anything else,” he said.

“Thanks.” She folded her arms. She didn't want him to see that she appreciated his compliment.

“Just my opinion, but I think you've lost focus of who you're playing against out there.”

“I know who I'm playing against,” Ava retorted, annoyed again. He didn't know her.

“Do you? Sometimes you look as if you're playing against Tamara, your own teammate.”

Ava cringed inwardly. PJ was right. Today's game had become about showing up Tamara. Why did that keep happening?

“Ride your talent, Little Sackett,” PJ advised. “Play the game, don't let the game play you.”

“Hey! That's one of Coach's sayings.” She whirled to face him.

“I know.” PJ grinned again. “I like borrowing them. Your dad has some great ones.” PJ then reeled off a few of Coach's other favorites.

Ava found herself nodding. “I've been hearing them my whole life and I still like them.”

“You're lucky,” PJ said. “Your dad is truly great at what he does.”

“Thanks. I think so too,” Ava agreed. She was surprised that PJ felt this way. “Do you want to coach someday? Is that why you're coaching us?”

“I never really considered it, but yeah, maybe someday after I'm done playing and all that.” PJ sighed. “It's scary to think that far ahead.”

“You'd be a good coach.” Ava couldn't believe she was being nice to PJ Kelly.

“Really? That means a lot coming from you,” PJ said. “I guess it was a good thing that my aunt forced me to do this.”

“Tamara's mom?” Ava asked.

“Yeah. She my dad's sister. She thought it would be a good idea,” PJ confided. “You know, for college applications and—”

Before he could finish, the final whistle blew and Tamara stormed over. “What are you saying to her?”

“No worries, Tam,” PJ said. “Just coaching a bit.” He winked at Ava.

“You're supposed to be helping me, not Ava. That's why Mom pulled strings to make you our assistant coach,” Tamara protested.

“I can help both of you,” PJ insisted. “In fact, the two of you need to—”

“PJ!” Tamara's voice was so loud, several girls on their team turned to them with interest. “It doesn't work like that.”

“I'm aware, Tam, of how it works.” PJ looked from Ava to Tamara and then up into the stands at Mrs. Baker. He sighed. “You want my advice? Just play the game.”

“Mom!” Ava caught sight of her mom as she emerged from the locker room after the game. She ran to her and hugged her. If she hadn't been in the school hallway, she would have wrapped her legs around her mother in the full-body hug she'd done when she was little. “I missed you. You were gone forever!”

Laura Sackett laughed. “Only a week, honey. But yes, it felt like a long time.”

As they drove back home, Mrs. Sackett told her about the other artists she'd met at the retreat, and Ava filled her in on her tense return to the basketball team.

“That's not good timing,” Mrs. Sackett
murmured, adjusting her sunglasses from the Texas glare.

“What's not?” Ava had explained all her fouls and Tamara's bad attitude. PJ's deception remained her and Alex's secret.

“An interview with your father came out today on TexasHighSports.” Mrs. Sackett chewed her lip worriedly.

“Coach talked to them on the phone the other night,” Ava said.

“Yeah, well, whatever he was trying to say didn't come across or they misinterpreted it. It's not good,” she said.

Ava quickly pulled up the site on her phone. At the top of the page, a bold headline screamed:

WHERE HAVE ALL THE PLAYERS GONE?

SACKETT BRUSHES OFF INJURIES

Coach Michael Sackett of the State Championship Ashland Tigers should be riding high this spring with his young, talented team, yet we have received reports that practices are lackluster at best. Sackett finds himself with a roster that's severely
depleted by injuries. Football is dangerous, even at the high school level, and will never be injury free. However, the Ashland players “are dropping like flies,” according to one anonymous Ashland fan. “We've lost six out of twenty-two players, and most of those kids were starters.”

At last week's practice, three players watched from the sidelines with crutches. In addition, quarterback Dion Bell is still recovering from a concussion, which has deeply concerned the parents of several players, so much so that they have pulled their sons from the program. Ashland is also seeing numbers drop at the youth level.

When reached for comment, Sackett belittled the seriousness of the situation, saying, “All teams experience this kind of thing.”

Is Sackett too focused on winning and not enough on the welfare of his players? According to Doug Kelly, father of starting quarterback phenomenon PJ Kelly, who is currently out with a strained knee, Sackett's unrelenting conditioning drills are the cause of his son's injury. “Winning is good, but not at the risk of injury and permanent damage,” Kelly said. “We need to make the sport safer.”

Once again, Sackett failed to express concern when Kelly's injury was brought up. “The boy will heal,” he remarked.

But at what cost? we ask. Wake up, Sackett! These injuries can be prevented, especially in a nongame situation. Let's hear what you have to say, Ashland!

Ava started to scroll through the comments.

“Don't do that. Seriously, Ava, stop. People
are mean,” Mrs. Sackett said as she pulled into their driveway.

“This article is false. Coach cares about his players so much. How can anyone believe this?” Ava cried.

“I know that. But for some reason, people delight in tearing down winners.” Mrs. Sackett opened the car door. “Mr. Kelly likes to stir up trouble, that's for sure.”

Ava stayed in her seat and fumed. Mr. Kelly's accusations were outright lies. She and Alex had heard him and PJ. She couldn't believe she had started to like PJ just a few minutes ago! How could he and his father do this?

She suddenly sprang out of the car. She needed to talk to Alex. They had to tell Coach that Mr. Kelly was playing him.

“Where's Alex?” Ava smelled a pot roast cooking when they entered the kitchen.

“Tommy was going to pick her up from Lindsey's house on his way home from the mall. He said something about picking up an engraved birthday gift for Cassie.” Mrs. Sackett pulled lettuce, a cucumber, and tomatoes from the refrigerator that had magically been filled. Her mother must have been home a while. The
house was clean and tidy, too. “Do you know what he got her?”

“A silver bookmark, which makes no sense to me, but I guess she likes to read.” Ava shrugged. “He had the store engrave something sappy on it.”

“I think that's wonderful.” Mrs. Sackett grew quiet.

Coach Sackett's tightly controlled voice floated in from the family room. “That's not what I said, Mr. Ganes. I have always followed all rules of safety.”

“Your dad's obviously on the phone. Why don't you help me make a salad?” Mrs. Sackett suggested.

Ava was shredding lettuce when Coach stalked into the kitchen. He frantically typed on his phone.

“All okay?” Mrs. Sackett asked hopefully.

“Far from it.” Coach waved his phone. “I'm being flooded by e-mails, and the phone keeps ringing.”

“No one can really believe that you don't care about your players,” Ava said. “That's just crazy.”

“I don't think they believe that. At least, I hope not. They're concerned for their sons' safety, and rightly so, after Mr. Kelly accused
me of pushing the boys too hard,” Coach said.

The house phone and his cell rang simultaneously.

“Don't answer,” Mrs. Sackett suggested. “Let this whole thing cool down.”

“I can't do that, Laura. The parents deserve to hear from me.” He began to walk away. “I'll be in my study.”

Coach stayed in his study for hours. He didn't come out when Alex and Tommy got back. He didn't come out for dinner. He didn't come out when Tommy drove Alex to the library for a club meeting.

The phone kept ringing and ringing. Each ring shot through Ava like an electric shock. Each ring reminded her that PJ and his father were liars. And that she and Alex had become liars too.

“Don't worry,” Mrs. Sackett assured her as they cleaned the dinner dishes. “Your dad will work this out.”

Then Coach appeared downstairs. He wore his navy suit, a crisp white shirt, and a dark orange tie. Ava only saw him in a suit when they went to church on Easter morning. Coach hated suits as much as she hated thick tights. He looked odd without his Tigers polo shirt and cap.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Ava asked.

“I need to go out. There's a meeting at the school.” Coach tightened the knot of his tie.