Read 'Tis the Off-Season Online

Authors: Belle Payton

'Tis the Off-Season (10 page)

Lindsey and Emily squealed with delight and jumped up and down.

Alex resisted a strong urge to dash over and hug him. But of course she couldn't do that. She settled on smiling gratefully at him. He caught her eye and smiled back. She darted a glance at Lindsey. Sure enough, Lindsey was staring keenly at the two of them. Alex felt her face get hot. “That's super awesome,” she said to Corey.

“I owed you one,” he said. “You changed that diaper for me. I think I got away with the easy part of the deal.”

“The parents are here,” called Ava, who was over near the sign-out area, helping tie a kid's shoes.

“Good,” sighed Charlotte. “I need to go home and take a nap. Parenthood is exhausting.”

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

Ava finished her paper right after dinner on Sunday, a record for her. Usually she didn't finish assignments until super late the night before they were due. She pasted her essay into the online document according to Mr. Rader's instructions, and then opened her social studies textbook to get the reading done before bed. She smiled. Maybe she'd even let Uncle Scott read her persuasive essay. He would probably be proud.

Later that night, as she was trying to find a pair of clean socks to wear the next day, Uncle Scott knocked on her door. He was holding her essay in his hand. “Ave, this is fantastic,” he said. “You're a really good writer.”

Ava felt a surge of pride. Did he really think so? “It's no big deal,” she said with a shrug.

“It's a big deal, Ave,” he said, setting it down gently next to her bed. “It's clear that you worked hard on this.”

In sixth period on Tuesday Mr. Rader announced he was passing back the graded essays. Ava was impressed. She appreciated teachers who graded things and got them back. She didn't always love the results she got, but it was so much better than the teachers who took forever to grade, keeping you in suspense way too long. Mr. Rader was efficient.

He put the essay facedown on Ava's desk and paused for a moment. “That was an excellent essay, Ava Sackett,” he said. “I could sense the passion in your argument, and you presented it cogently and with great clarity.”

“Thanks!” said Ava. She'd have to ask Alex what “cogently” meant.

“I'm especially pleased that you changed your topic,” he continued. “We all write better when we're excited about what we're writing. And I understand you're an excellent basketball player. It would be great to have you try out for the team.”

Ava stared at him. “
You're
the coach?” she asked. He smiled and nodded. How had she not known that? She'd been so wrapped up in fighting to play basketball, she supposed she'd just forgotten to ask who the coach was. Who knew it was her English teacher?

As soon as Mr. Rader had moved on, she peeked at the grade. Ninety-two! That was an
A minus
! She plunked it back down, her heart pounding. Had she imagined that grade? Or maybe she'd seen it upside-down, and the nine was really a six. Maybe it was a
sixty
-two. But then the two would be wrong. She peered at it again. The ninety-two was still there, and it was definitely not upside-down. She had trouble keeping herself from grinning big-time. She really had worked hard on it, though. She'd found half a dozen studies online that were written with super-academic language and hard to understand. But she'd laboriously put some of their conclusions into her own words, and she'd cited them in her bibliography the way Mr. Rader had instructed the class. One report had concluded that ADHD kids who participated in sports had greater self-efficacy, self-confidence, and happiness. She'd looked up “self-efficacy” and reworded it to say “an ability to believe in their own skills.” Another said that teachers reported that kids in sports programs showed more persistence in the classroom. She'd reworded that to “they try harder in school.” Another had described a decrease in attention-seeking behaviors. She'd reworded that to “they did not show off in class as much.” She couldn't wait to show the paper to Mrs. Hyde. Maybe she could start by changing Mrs. Hyde's mind, and then move on to her parents!

As soon as the bell rang, she bolted out of class to find Mrs. Hyde. Luckily, her office was on the way to Ava's social studies class, and she found Mrs. Hyde sitting alone at her desk. Ava thrust her paper proudly into Mrs. Hyde's hands without even saying hello first.

Mrs. Hyde scanned it quickly, her smile broadening as she did so. “Why don't you share this with your parents, Ava?” she suggested, as soon as she'd finished.

Ava nodded. “I was planning to,” she said. “It was kind of my uncle Scott's idea. He told me you always write better if you're allowed to choose a topic that you feel passionate about.”

Mrs. Hyde nodded. “Your uncle Scott is a wise person,” she said. “And you've made a very compelling case in your own favor here. I mentioned to your parents that I was worried that the nighttime basketball practices would disrupt your routine, but I agree that it's more important for you to have an outlet for your energy. We can work together on a new study schedule if your parents agree to let you try out.”

Yes!
Ava thought. Mrs. Hyde agreed with her! All this time she'd thought Mrs. Hyde had made this dumb recommendation to her parents, but if she was an expert on ADHD, she'd certainly know what the research said.

Ava left the essay on her mother's pillow when she got home from school that afternoon. Her mom had said she'd be working late again at her pottery studio.

As no one besides Alex seemed to be home, Ava dribbled her basketball down the front stairs and around the corner, bouncing down the hall to the kitchen. As she passed the door of the study, she peered in to see if Uncle Scott was there, but he was definitely out.

Alex was sitting at the table, working on the bulletin board she was making for Rosa. “Ugh! That dribbling!” she exclaimed. “You know you're not supposed to dribble in the house!”

Ava picked up her dribble. “Where did Uncle Scott go yesterday and today?” she asked Alex.

“Daddy says he's ‘pounding the pavement,' ” said Alex, painting a long strand of ribbon with glue. “That means he's looking for jobs and distributing his résumé.”

Ava nodded. “I hope he finds a job near us,” she said.

“Me too,” said Alex. “Hey, have you decided what you're going to make for Jack?”

Ava pursed her lips and frowned. She'd forgotten all about a present for Jack. “I can't think of anything,” she said. “He told me he likes food, but I can't bake. Not like Coach, anyway.” She pondered. “He does love dogs, though, and especially Moxy,” she said.

At the sound of her name, Moxy, who was lying under the table at Alex's feet, thumped her tail loudly.

“Maybe you can make him a calendar with Moxy pictures for each month of the year!” suggested Alex excitedly. “I can help you!”

“I like that idea,” said Ava. Having an artsy sister really comes in handy sometimes, she thought.

“Well, you can start by taking Moxy outside and taking some fun pictures of her,” said Alex.

So that was what Ava did for the rest of the afternoon. She and Moxy walked around the neighborhood, and Ava posed her in different situations.

Later Uncle Scott called to say he had to meet someone for an interview and wouldn't be home for dinner. Between talking about the pictures she'd taken with Moxy and the lively dinner discussion about what sort of job Uncle Scott should get, Ava forgot all about her essay.

“He should become a television reporter, because he's so good-looking and has a nice broadcasting voice,” said Alex. “I would know better than anyone about that, of course.”

Ava rolled her eyes. Ever since Alex had been chosen to do a “Tomorrow's Reporters Today” segment on the local TV news station, she'd never let them hear the end of it.

“No way,” Tommy scoffed. “He should open a sporting goods store. He's such a natural salesman.”

“I think he'd make a great coach,” said Ava.

“Like Daddy?” asked Alex.

“No, I mean, like a coach for people about how to live their lives,” said Ava. “He's so good at giving advice.”

“You mean a motivational speaker,” said Tommy.

Ava caught Coach and Mrs. Sackett looking at each other, slightly amused. She supposed it was a little funny to think of Uncle Scott as someone who could give people advice about how to live their lives, considering that his had sort of fallen into disarray a little bit.

As the kids were finishing up the dishes, Coach and Mrs. Sackett went into the living room with cups of coffee and tea. Ava could hear them talking, but it was impossible to hear what they were saying because Tommy was blasting jazz while they cleaned up.

“Ave! Got a sec?” Coach's voice boomed from the other room, easily audible over the sound of Tommy's music. Ava liked to call it his “coaching voice.” She tossed her dish towel onto the table and headed into the living room. Was she in trouble? She racked her brain to think which one of her teachers might have e-mailed her parents.

Her parents were sitting side by side on the couch. Her mother was holding Ava's persuasive essay. They both looked pleased. The only light in the room came from the twinkling colored bulbs on the Christmas tree, which cast a rosy glow on her parents' faces.

“Oh! You saw that, huh?” Ava grinned. “I forgot I left that for you to read.”

“Great job, Ave,” said Coach.

“Your father and I have talked about this business of you playing basketball,” said Mrs. Sackett.

Ava lowered herself slowly into a chair, as though settling into a bath that might or might not be too hot. She tried her hardest not to get her hopes up.

“You make a very compelling case in favor of playing sports,” continued Mrs. Sackett. “And you really did your research. I had no idea that so many experts were in favor of kids with ADHD participating in sports.”

Ava nodded eagerly.

“We spoke to Mrs. Hyde earlier,” said Coach.

Ava raised her eyebrows. Hopefully, Mrs. Hyde had been even more convincing about the benefits of kids with ADHD playing sports.

“And she agreed that we should give it a try and see how this season goes for you,” finished Mrs. Sackett.

Ava leaped out of her chair with a shriek.

“But!” Mrs. Sackett held up a hand to quiet her. “This is conditional upon you keeping your grades up. And making arrangements with Luke—well in advance so that he can plan his schedule—about setting up regular sessions with him, and—”

“Mom, I will, I will. I'll do all that, I promise!” said Ava, bouncing over happily and giving her a huge hug. Over her mom's shoulder, she sensed a movement in the doorway. It was Uncle Scott, who had just let himself in with his own key. He was nicely dressed in a jacket and tie, and he'd even shaved. He leaned against the door, winked at her, and gave her a thumbs-up.

Still hugging her mom, Ava winked back at him and gave him a return thumbs-up.

CHAPTER
TWELVE

“It's Christmas Eve and it's fifty-seven degrees outside,” said Alex. “I'm still not used to this.”

She and Ava were standing side by side at the kitchen counter, peeling a huge mound of potatoes. Alex was wearing one of the many Christmas outfits she'd put together, but had tied on one of Coach's aprons to keep her clothes clean. Tommy had put on a playlist of jazzy Christmas carols, and Alex danced a little to “Jingle Bell Rock” as she peeled her potato.

“In some ways it's weird that it's so warm outside,” agreed Ava, “but in other ways it's super awesome. I played full-court basketball for two hours outside today.” She dropped a peeled potato into the bowl between them and picked up the next potato. “Although I will admit that it was odd to buy our Christmas tree from a guy wearing shorts and a T-shirt.” She surveyed her sister's outfit, black leggings and a red sparkly tunic. “I see you went with snappy festive this evening,” she said.

“Yes!” said Alex, happy that her sister remembered. “Although Coach's orange apron isn't exactly part of the look.”

“You look like an Ashland Tiger,” said Ava with a grin.

“Well, you look cute too,” said Alex, and she meant it. She was pleased to see that Ava had made an effort at getting dressed up for the evening. She had on one of the two skirts she owned, and had borrowed Alex's green cardigan with the beaded collar, which she was wearing over a plain white T-shirt. Not what Alex would have paired it with, but definitely an improvement over Ava's normal choice of football jersey.

“Oh, and by the way—how are our Secret Santa presents coming along?” asked Ava.

Alex cocked an eyebrow. “
Our
presents, huh?” She slipped her potato into the bowl and put a hand on her hip. “I finished Rosa's present days ago.
Your
present for Jack is coming along,” she said. “I've downloaded the software, chosen the template, laid out most of the pictures, and entered in most of our friends' birthdays. But I need you to take two more pictures of Moxy, for December and June. Maybe you can take a picture of her wearing reindeer antlers for December, and put a pair of sunglasses on her for June.”

“Wow. That's a great idea,” said Ava, looking genuinely impressed. “Sometimes I think you got double the creativity genes and I got none.”

Alex narrowed her eyes at her sister, but she was secretly pleased by the compliment.

“I'll do that first thing tomorrow, promise,” said Ava, looking guilty. “You're so awesome to help me with it.”

“First thing tomorrow is Christmas morning,” Alex reminded her. “Just do it the day after. Then we can bring it to the printing place and have them print it out. You get to wrap it, at the very least.”
At least she appreciates what I'm doing,
Alex thought. And she'd actually really enjoyed making the calendar. She loved doing stuff like that.

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