A Lot to Tackle (9 page)

Mrs. Cookson chuckled. “Let's start with an interview.” She clicked open her calendar on the computer. “This week is crazy. How about she comes to talk to me at the school a week from tomorrow?”

“Perfect! Thank you!” Ava said. The timing couldn't be better. Friday was the big game in Austin. They'd spend Saturday in the city and drive home on Sunday. On Monday her mom would nail down the new job.

Mrs. Cookson hugged Kylie good-bye. Ava reached out her hand, and they shook on the deal. Then Mrs. Cookson hugged her, too!

Kylie and Ava walked their bikes back down the path. Kylie held a brown bag filled with spinach. As soon as they reached the dirt road, Ava pedaled fast, enjoying the sweet Texas sunshine on her face. She waved to a cow in the field and let out a
whoop!

“I'm staying in Ashland!” she cried.

Are you sure?

Alex stared at Lindsey's latest text. Alex had promised her over and over. She'd even shown her proof online. What more did Lindsey need?

100% sure it's totally gone.

She'd deleted the online scrapbook from her page yesterday, as soon as she noticed Lindsey's frantic texts.

I should've tried harder to steer Lindsey away from the whole scrapbook idea,
Alex thought. She felt guilty, even though Ava kept reminding her that Lindsey had been the one to mistakenly send it out. But still,
she
had designed the scrapbook.

One more example of how I mess everything up,
Alex thought.

She'd spent the entire day on the sofa, watching Spanish soap operas. She didn't even speak Spanish! Her mom thought she was being industrious and teaching herself Spanish. That would have been typical of the old Alex. But new Alex stared at the television, not caring that she didn't understand anything.

I can't study right, spell right, run a bake sale, or give my friend decent boy advice,
she thought. She knew she was having a pity party, but she felt she deserved one. A big one. How could she ever hope to run a big company or even be the mayor of Ashland? Lindsey texted again.

Corey is coming over tonight.

Alex glanced at the clock in the family room.
Eight o'clock on a Sunday night. That seemed like an odd time for him to come over, but what did she know? Maybe boyfriends stopped by on Sunday nights. She looked across the room at her dad frantically typing on his phone. Ava and her mom sat side by side on the sofa watching a cooking competition on TV, where the contestants created a dessert using cauliflower and chocolate. Tommy was doing his homework in the kitchen and drumming on the table.

Tonight would probably not be a good night for a boyfriend to stop by here,
Alex thought.

Not that it was a possibility.

“Just great, just great,” her dad muttered. He tucked his phone in the pocket of his shorts and paced in front of the television.

“Michael, what's wrong?” Mrs. Sackett lowered the volume with the remote control.

“PJ Kelly.” He scratched his head in disbelief. “My star quarterback has the flu.”

“What?” Ava cried, leaping up from the sofa.

“Are you sure?” Mrs. Sackett asked.

“I don't know, Laura, I'm not a doctor,” her dad snapped. He rarely snapped at them. Alex could tell he was very upset.

“But did a doctor say PJ is sick?” Ava asked.

The noise in the kitchen stopped. Alex suspected Tommy was listening in.

Coach blew out his breath. “He's sick. Maybe it's the flu. Maybe it's a virus. Doesn't matter what you call it. The boy is in bed with a fever, sore throat, and snot pouring out of his nose.”

“It's Sunday. The game isn't until Friday,” Mrs. Sackett reminded him. “PJ could easily get better by then.”

“Totally,” Alex chimed in. As bad as she felt, she hated to see her dad so distraught.

“He could. Or he could not.” Her dad rubbed his temples with his fingers. “PJ won't be at practice all week, and Dion's sidelined. We'll have to run the plays with Tom.”

“That's so great for Tommy!” Ava said, then noticed their dad's scowl. “I mean, not that the first-string quarterback is sick.” As she reconsidered the situation, her face changed. Anxiety replaced her initial joy for their brother. “Actually, this is kind of bad. Having only one healthy quarterback. For the team winning and all.”

Alex heard the back door creak as it opened and closed.

“Tom doesn't even know all the plays.” Coach Sackett paced faster. His voice grew louder.
“We're going to have to review the playbook page by page.”

“I can help,” Ava offered.

“Tom! Tom!” their dad yelled. “Tom, get out here!”

“Tommy learns stuff like this fast,” Ava promised.

“Where is he?” Coach Sackett demanded when Tommy didn't answer or appear.

“I think he went out,” Alex offered.

“What? Out? Where would he go on a Sunday night?” her dad asked, poking his head into the empty kitchen.

“To see his girlfriend?” Alex guessed. Tommy must have gone to Cassie's house to escape Coach's football flip-out. Alex didn't blame him. Maybe that's why Corey was heading to Lindsey's house now. Maybe he needed someone to talk to.

Coach Sackett hurried to the back door. “Well, I'm getting him back here. This is serious! We have major work to do.”

“Not now.” Mrs. Sackett scrambled off the sofa and ran after him. “Let Tom see Cassie for an hour or so. He needs time to get used to this idea—”

“We don't have time,” interrupted her dad.

“Yes, you do. Tom will learn the plays. He
wasn't expecting this.” She spoke in a soothing voice. She gently turned him away from the door and simultaneously pulled his phone from his pocket. “How about you take a minute to decompress too and scoop ice cream for all of us? There's a quart of cookies and cream in the freezer.”

“Fine,” he grumbled.

Mrs. Sackett returned to the family room. “Alex,” she hissed. “Disable the computer.”

“What?” Alex said.

“Do something so your dad cannot see all the chatter once Ashland discovers PJ is ill. He needs a break tonight. We all do. I have his phone.” She held it up. “You're our family techie. Do something to the computer. Fast!”

Alex ran through the possibilities as she walked over to the computer. Unplugging it wouldn't do much. The computer would still have power. Her eye caught a blog post right before she closed out all the open screens and slid the battery from the computer. She handed the battery to Ava, who tucked it under a sofa cushion just as Coach arrived with the bowls of ice cream.

“What was that blog post about your ceramics?” Alex tried to direct the conversation away from PJ and Tommy.

Mrs. Sackett beamed. “A blogger from the Texas Arts Council raved about my pots. He called me the newest Texas talent.”

“That's amazing, Laura. Let's toast your mom.” Coach raised his spoon. Ava and Alex did the same.

“Thanks. I'm so happy I finally had the courage to open my ceramics business. If we hadn't moved, I would've kept putting it off,” she said.

“But you were happy when you were a teacher,” Ava protested.

“Sure, but ceramics gives me creative joy that I never got while teaching. And there's nothing better than being my own boss,” she said.

“You don't have to give up teaching,” Ava said. “What if you combined ceramics and teaching?”

Alex tilted her head. What was Ava getting at?

“Oh, Ave, do you mean that you want to learn? I'd love to teach
you
how to throw pots on the wheel.” Their mom's eyes brightened at the prospect. Alex had refused her offer long ago. Clay was so messy.

“No, I don't want to learn.” Ava stirred her ice cream vigorously until it melted into soup. Alex couldn't understand why her twin looked so disappointed.

911!!! Call me!!! Now!!!

The text from Lindsey flashed on the screen of Alex's phone.

“I'm going up to my room,” Alex said, standing.

“Bring your bowl to the sink. And Alex, a shower might be a good idea,” her mom suggested. “Freshen up for school tomorrow?”

“This is a first for Alex,” Ava quipped. “I can't believe it, but your hair is looking gnarly.”

“Whatever.” Alex no longer cared how she looked for school.

In the privacy of her room, Alex called Lindsey. At first she heard only strange, hiccuping sobs. “Lindsey? Lindsey, is that you? What's wrong?”

“He—he—he—” Lindsey sputtered, then sobbed.

“He what?” Alex demanded. “Corey? Are you talking about Corey?”

“Yes.” Lindsay gulped, as if she couldn't suck in enough air. “He broke up with me.”

“He what? No, he didn't.” This was ludicrous. Corey wouldn't break up with Lindsey.

“He did.” Lindsey hiccuped, fighting to control her tears.

“But you just threw him a party. And you made that scrapbook with all those cute photos to show him how much you like him,” Alex protested.

“I know. That's why.” Lindsey sobbed softly. “He blamed all that. That and other things. He said I text too much. That I'm too intense. I'm not intense, am I?”

“Of course not,” Alex said soothingly. Although she was. Kind of. But not in a bad way.

“He said all the photos in the scrapbook embarrassed him. That it was way over the top.”

Alex picked at her nail polish.
That was my idea,
she thought, feeling enormously guilty. “I can talk to him for you. Tell him it was my idea and apologize or . . .” Alex wasn't quite sure what she'd say.

“No, it's not your fault.” Lindsey had stopped crying. “I really like him. I thought he'd want to know that, you know?”

Alex flopped on her bed. “I'm so sorry, Lindz.”

She could feel her friend's pain through the phone. And despite what Lindsey said, the scrapbook and the party
had
been her fault. She could fix the spelling mistake on the banner. She could live with the stupid Variety Show
theme. She could even, sort of, deal with the horrible grades. But she had no idea how to make her friend feel better.

And that, more than anything, made her feel completely useless.

“So what did she say?” Kylie asked Ava during lunch on Monday.

Ava glanced next to Kylie at Nicole Patel. Nicole sat with her back toward Ava. Her hands waved as she told her own friends a story. She didn't care what Ava and Kylie had to say.

When they'd entered the cafeteria, Ava had immediately spotted Alex and Emily huddled around Lindsey at the table where they all often sat. Corey, Logan, Jack, and Owen, who Kylie was sort of going out with, had retreated to the other half of the table. Corey had waved Ava over.

Ava knew about the breakup. The whole school knew about the breakup.

Ava could not deal with more drama. She'd grabbed Kylie's hand. “Let's sit over there today,” she'd suggested. They'd found seats at the end of a table populated by girls in the drama club.

Now Ava inspected her apple for bruises. She hated the brown spots. “I didn't tell her.”

“Why not?” Kylie demanded.

“My mom started going on about how much she loves her ceramics.” Ava bit into the apple and chewed slowly. “I'm worried that the teaching thing isn't going to work.”

“Maybe the Tigers will win,” Kylie offered.

Ava rolled her eyes. She told Kylie about PJ's sickness. “Our staying in Ashland now rests on Tommy's quarterback abilities.”

“I thought Tommy was good,” Kylie said.

“He is, but his confidence is shaky. I don't know if Coach sees it, but Tommy's not totally committed to football. He's so into his music.”

“Why can't he be into both?” Kylie asked.

“He can. But Coach demands one hundred and ten percent commitment. I think sometimes that messes with Tommy's mind, and he doubts how good he is,” Ava said. “So, basically, I need to start packing my bags.”

“Don't say that!” Kylie cried. “The job at Rosewood could still happen, or we'll think of something else.”

“Lindsey, wait!” Alex's voice carried across the cafeteria.

Ava swiveled to see Lindsey stalking toward them. Alex hurried after her, and the rest of the cheerleaders trailed behind them. Conversation throughout the cafeteria stopped. All eyes tracked Lindsey.

“How could you? How could you?” Lindsey demanded, now standing alongside Ava.

“What are you talking about?” Ava looked to Alex for a clue.

Alex stared at the ceiling with that overwhelmed expression she'd worn for the past few days.

“You told Corey to break up with me,” Lindsey stated flatly.

“What? No, I didn't!” Ava cried. “Corey told you
that?
”

“He didn't have to. Jack told Bryce, who told Annelise. I heard that you even told him what to say. Why would you do this?” Lindsey asked angrily.