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Authors: Belle Payton

BOOK: Two Steps Back
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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.

CHAPTER
EIGHT

Friday night's high school game, the Ashland Tigers against the Culver City Cougars, was at home. Ava caught a ride to the stadium with Coach and Tommy, as she usually did. She liked to get there early and stand near the fence behind the bench, where she could watch Coach and Tommy's team warm up. For her, watching warm-ups was almost as exciting as the actual game—the feelings of anticipation, suspense, and teamwork were palpable as the special teams went through their warm-ups and drills. Tommy was a quarterback, but he rarely got into games, as the star quarterback was PJ Kelly. Tommy didn't seem to mind all that much that he rarely played, though. Even though he seemed to be focusing more on football these days to appease Coach as play-offs approached, Ava suspected Tommy's heart was leaning more toward music.

“Hi, Ava!” yelled Shane Hardy, Coach Byron's six-year-old son. He and his four-year-old sister, Jamila, raced over to her. They'd been playing on the bleachers.

Ava gave them each a big hug. She loved little kids, and she'd hit it off with Shane and Jamila right away. “Where's your babysitter?” she asked them, looking around.

“No babysitter tonight!” said Jamila excitedly.

“Daddy says we get to sit with the team during the game!” added Shane, bouncing up and down.

Ava frowned. She remembered what Coach had said to her mom about Coach Byron's frequent absences. She hoped people wouldn't mind if Shane and Jamila were on the bench for the game. She hoped his job wasn't in jeopardy.

“Well, you guys stay close,” she said, squatting down so she could be eye to eye with them. “And if you need anything, I'll be right up there in the stands, okay? You see my friend Kylie over there? The one in the orange Tigers jersey and the blue cowboy boots? She's waving at you.”

The two kids looked and then nodded solemnly. Jamila shyly waved back at Kylie.

“I'll be sitting right next to her.”

Already the crowds were streaming in, and the band was playing peppy music. Ava made her way toward the section of the bleachers where the AMS kids usually sat in a big clump. She passed Mr. Kelly, her neighbor, talking to some other man she didn't know.

He was in the midst of an animated conversation and didn't see her, which was just as well, because Ava was sure he didn't like her. He'd made it clear that he disapproved of a girl playing football, and he wasn't a fan of Coach's, either.

“Look there at those kids. You see those kids?” He was pointing toward Jamila and Shane.

The other man looked and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“That's no place for kids. It's dangerous for them and distracting for the players. I'm going to have words with Sackett after the game. He's too soft with Hardy. I think it's pink-slip time.”

Ava hurried past and climbed into the bleachers, where she sat down next to Kylie.

“What does ‘pink-slip time' mean?” asked Ava before she even said hello.

Kylie furrowed her brow. “Huh?”

Ava told her what she'd overheard Mr. Kelly say.

Kylie's frown deepened. “Giving someone a pink slip means firing them,” she said grimly. “It sounds like Coach Byron's job is in trouble.”

Ava had suspected it was something like that. Now she knew. “We have to do something,” she said to Kylie. “He's such a good coach, and his kids are so cute. And—”

She broke off as Kylie grabbed her arm and gestured with her chin for Ava to look.

Ava turned.

Alex was standing down near the field, surrounded by a small crowd of gawking middle school kids. Two bright lights were shining on her, and a tech person was setting up a white screen on one side of her, which seemed to serve the purpose of reflecting the light onto her face. Her hair had been blown out until it was straight and shiny and un-Alex-looking, and even from a distance Ava could see that her twin had a ton of makeup on. She was wearing a smart blue blazer that Ava didn't recognize and was holding a microphone. A camera guy was fiddling with his camera, getting ready to shoot her. Next to the cameraman stood an elegant woman in a red dress, wearing high-heeled red shoes. Her blond hair seemed to glow, and it must have had practically a full can of hair spray sprayed onto it, because not a strand moved when she moved her head. Ava knew it was Marcy Maxon. Next to Marcy stood a young woman talking on a cell phone, whom Ava guessed was the assistant, Candace.

“Why is Alex filming here at the high school game?” Kylie asked. “What's her story going to be about?”

“I don't know,” said Ava. “She won't tell me. But it's been really hard to live with her. She's gotten all self-important about being a reporter. But it'll all be over after this weekend. Her story, whatever it is, is supposed to air on Sunday.”

“That's good. Ooh, the game's starting!” said Kylie, pointing, as the Tigers kicked off.

“I know,” said Ava, “and Alex isn't even
watching
it.” She rolled her eyes, and then forgot about Alex as she turned to watch the game.

The Tigers won, but just barely. The score was tied 14–14 with two minutes to go. The Tigers managed to move the ball into field goal position, and with eighteen seconds left on the clock, Winston Schmidt kicked a field goal to win it, 17–14.

“Are you going to Sal's?” yelled Kylie over the roar of the crowd and the victory music of the band.

“I think so!” Ava shouted back. “But I'm going to talk to Alex first!”

Before she found her sister, Ava went to check on Jamila and Shane. When she spotted them sitting obediently on the bench near their dad, she set off toward Alex, who was standing near the concession area, talking on her phone. The film crew was no longer with her.

“Okay, yes, tomorrow at nine thirty, main gate. See you then. Bye.” Alex clicked off her phone and jumped backward in surprise when she saw Ava. “Oh! Hi!” she said. “Didn't see you there.”

Ava crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “Who was that?” she asked.

“Who was what?”

“On the phone. The person you were talk­ing to.”

“Oh! Ha-ha! That was Marcy. She told me to call her that, by the way. In showbiz, people call each other by their first names. Hey, are we going to Sal's?”


Where
are you meeting her tomorrow morning at nine thirty?” asked Ava, ignoring Alex's attempt to change the subject.

Alex shifted from one foot to the other and looked everywhere but at Ava. Her hair, like Marcy's, didn't move when she moved her head.

“Um, yeah,” said Alex. “About tomorrow. I was actually going to bring it up with you.”

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