'Tis the Off-Season (3 page)

Lindsey giggled.

Alex's stomach clenched up. This
was
a lot of kids. What would her mother say?

“What about Corey?” Emily asked. “Are you totally and completely over him, Lindz?”

Alex held her breath as Lindsey reflected. She couldn't believe Emily had just come right out and asked!

“Oh, pshhh,” said Lindsey. “I am so over Corey.” She looked sideways at Alex. “Don't you think we should invite him, Alex?”

Alex wondered if this was a trick to see how she would react. She nodded warily.

Lindsey's expression was unreadable. “Look, he's down there playing basketball with your sister. Maybe he has a crush on
her 
! Ha-ha!”

“Ha-ha,” said Alex weakly. “I somehow doubt that. They've been pals for a while, from football.” She permitted herself a glance at Corey, who must have just come in. Was he looking her way? She allowed herself a tiny burst of hope. Maybe this would all work out. Especially if Lindsey really did start going out with Johnny Morton!

“I'm not sure he's totally over
you
though, Lindz,” said Emily, nudging Lindsey with her elbow. “Look how he keeps looking over here. Maybe he's regretting breaking up with you!”

Lindsey looked pleased. Alex's hope dissipated.

Luckily, Emily turned the conversation back to Christmas party plans.

“Great,” she said. She tore the page from her notebook and handed it to Alex. “We can talk more about this later. Alex is the perfect person to organize this party. This is going to be the best one ever.”

Alex nodded. “Best one ever,” she croaked.

“Our team is going to be the best one ever!” said Callie, as she rebounded Ava's swished shot and chest-passed it back to her. Ava stepped sideways to the corner of the key and launched another shot. It swished through the net with a satisfying
thwop
.

“With Ava able to shoot from outside, that will keep zones from collapsing and give us forwards some breathing room!” said Madison Jackson. She rebounded a basket Ava missed and laid it back in. “We had no good outside shooting last year.”

Ava grinned. It felt so nice to be playing sports again. And it was such a relief that there was a girls' basketball team. She wouldn't have to be the center of any media firestorms, the way she'd been on the football team as the only girl. She was not a fan of lots of attention. Unlike her twin sister. She glanced across the gym to where Alex sat, chatting away with a big group of popular seventh graders. She was happy to see Alex was sitting next to Lindsey. Maybe there wouldn't be drama about Corey after all. Where
was
Corey, anyway? She was surprised not to see him here on an open-gym day.

“Hey! You guys want to go threes?”

There he was. Corey had walked over, cradling a basketball under his arm. Next to him were Jack Valdeavano and Xander Browning. Ava felt her face get a little warm. She still kind of, sort of liked Jack, even though the one time they'd tried to go on a date had been really disastrous. They'd decided to go back to just being friends, but she couldn't help it if she blushed every time she saw him. She was glad she was probably already flushed from exertion.

“You got it,” said Callie. “Girls against boys.”

The game was close. Ava guarded Jack. She knew his game well by this point, having played with him many times at the little park near their house. She knew he was a lefty with a quick first step and that he liked to drive baseline. He, however, knew she had a quick release, and he guarded her outside shot closely. The boys won in a tiebreaker.

They all stood, panting. Ava felt good about the way she'd played. She made a note to herself to work on her left-hand layup over the holiday break.

“Ava, you should come to the rec center tonight,” said Callie. “A bunch of us are going there around eight to scrimmage.”

Ava started to say yes, and then remembered that Luke Grabowski, her tutor, was supposed to come over for a session tonight.

“Uh, can I give you a definite maybe?” said Ava. “I need to rearrange some stuff, but I'm pretty sure I can get there.” She pictured what her mother's face would look like when she asked her. Mrs. Sackett would probably not see eye to eye with her about the need to cancel her session with Luke, but Ava figured she might as well start the conversation now, and explain to her parents that she no longer needed Luke's help, especially as she'd be having night practices once the season started. There
was
the nagging issue of the persuasive essay that was due next Monday. Mr. Rader had suggested she get started on it tonight. But that wasn't necessary—she had all week to write it.

“Play again?” said Jack. He flicked the ball underhand to Corey at the top of the key.

The ball whacked Corey in the shoulder and dribbled away.

Corey started guiltily and trotted after the ball. Ava groaned inwardly. He hadn't been watching for the pass because he'd been staring across the gym with a moony expression on his face.

At Alex.

Ava and Alex took the late bus home. Ava let Alex natter away about Corey, and the Christmas party, and Lindsey's crush on Johnny Morton, the eighth-grade class president. Ava nodded and murmured from time to time, but she was thinking about basketball, and how to break it to her parents that she no longer needed Luke's help. They'd understand. They had to.

“Lindsey and Emily said it's a tradition to make it an ugly sweater theme party,” said Alex with a frown. “After all the cute holiday outfits I assembled! Oh well. Of course I don't own any ugly sweaters, but they said we can all go to the thrift store to shop for them—evidently shopping for ugly sweaters is another annual tradition. You should totally come with us, Ave.”

“What? Sure,” said Ava. She barely registered what Alex was saying—she was trying to decide if it'd be better to talk to her parents at dinner, with Alex and Tommy there, or after dinner. Alex hadn't been particularly supportive of her basketball tryout, but she knew Tommy would be. She decided to do it at dinner.

But soon it was halfway through their meal, and Ava couldn't even begin to bring up the subject of the rec center scrimmage, because Alex kept talking on and on about the upcoming Christmas party, and the theme of ugly sweaters, and the Secret Santa gift exchange.

Mom seems distracted,
Ava thought.
And Coach does too,
she realized. They seemed happy to let Alex talk and talk and talk.

Tommy finally got Alex's attention by balling up his napkin and throwing it at her.

“. . . and it's a tradition to go to the thrift store and—hey!” She stopped midsentence.

“Al, this is fascinating and all, but you're making my head hurt, talking Christmas this early in December,” he said. He turned to Ava. “So how's the team look?” he asked.

Ava shot him a grateful look. “I think we're going to be pretty good,” she said. “And as a matter of fact, some of the girls invited me to go to the rec center tonight, to scrimmage with them. Can I go, Mom?”

“What, honey?” Her mom looked up, as though Ava had startled her out of her thoughts. “Oh, sure,” she said distractedly.

“Thanks!” said Ava. She'd been worried for no reason! Of course her parents would be understanding about basketball taking priority over Luke and tutoring.

“Just as long as it's not tonight. Because Luke is coming over at seven.”

Ava choked on her sip of milk. “But Mom, see, that's the thing. I don't think I need Luke anymore,” she said hurriedly. “I'm doing great—well, just fine—in all—well, in most of—my classes. And once real practices start, I'm going to have to see Luke less anyway, because we'll be practicing in the evenings a lot and—”

“Michael,” said Mrs. Sackett, in an all-business tone.

Coach started coughing.

Mrs. Sackett glared at him. “Ava,” she said. “About basketball. We need to have a discussion.”

The table suddenly went quiet.

“Al? Tom? How about you guys go start your homework?” suggested Coach.

Alex and Tommy got the hint. They slid out of their chairs and bolted for the hallway. Ava heard them both stomping up the stairs.

She looked from her mother to her father. Neither seemed to want to be the first to speak.

“What?” asked Ava. “Why are you guys looking at me like that? Okay, okay, I guess it's short notice to cancel on Luke now. I don't
have
to go to the rec center tonight. . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“Ava,” said her mother. “Your father and I have been talking. And we think—at least, I think, and your father agrees—that it would be good for you to take a season off from sports to concentrate on your studying.”

Coach was suddenly extremely interested in a spot on the table.

“Oh, wait. Is this about the bad grade I got on the math test last week?” asked Ava. “Because that was a total fluke. I just forgot to bring home the study guide the night before, and Mrs. Vargas—”

Mrs. Sackett frowned.

“Is it that dumb lab report I turned in one day late? That will so not happen again—see, I left that on the floor of the car and—” Ava stopped. Her parents exchanged another look. She seemed to be digging herself deeper into a hole. Maybe they didn't even
know
about these incidents. “Coach!” she said, giving her father a beseeching look. “You don't agree with this, do you?”

Coach cleared his throat. “Well, Ava, I actually—yes, I do. We've gotten a few e-mails from some of your teachers. They're concerned that you've let your grades slide recently.”

“But maybe that's because I'm
between
sports right now!” Ava jumped in. “My grades were better when I had the structure of practice and games! Don't you see?”

Mrs. Sackett put a hand on Ava's arm. “Honey, I've been looking into the basketball team for a while, and when I found out they sometimes hold evening practices I asked Mrs. Hyde if she didn't think this change in your study schedule could be a problem. We've tried hard to help you be consistent with your study habits, and with basketball and nighttime practices, the whole routine will be disrupted. She agreed that the nighttime practices would pose a challenge. Your father and I have been meaning to discuss this with you.”

Ava stared from her mother to her father, horror written across her face. She stood up from the table and left the house without a word, letting the door slam behind her.

Ava stomped across the driveway to where she'd left her basketball near the garage. She muttered to herself, imagining angry words she should have said to her parents.

She picked up the ball and launched it at the basket. Air ball.

At the end of football season, Coach had finally, finally, finally put up a basketball hoop in the driveway. She'd been begging him to do it since they'd moved there in July.

But right now she was so mad she couldn't aim straight. Most of her shots clanged off the backboard.

“Wow,” said a voice in the growing darkness. “Ease up there, Ave.” It was Luke Grabowski, her tutor. He was one of Tommy's friends, and normally Ava liked seeing him.

The ball bounced his way. He scooped it up, set down his backpack, and took a shot. It banked in neatly.

For some reason this just made Ava madder.

“Hey,” said Luke, letting the ball roll away, where it came to rest alongside the fence. “What's up? You're not your usual chipper self.”

Ava started to tell him about basketball, but stopped. She didn't want to hurt his feelings. After all, her sessions with him were a big part of the reason her parents weren't letting her play. “I'm fine,” she said dully. “Come on inside. You can help me figure out how to conjugate irregular verbs in Spanish.”

She turned and stomped up the steps.