Are You Thinking What I'm Thinking? (13 page)

“Take this.” Ava handed Coach the end of a long strand of toilet paper.

“And follow it,” Alex said.

“I'm following toilet paper?” he asked incredulously.

“Exactly,” said Tommy.

“Okay.” He grinned at them, his green eyes twinkling. Ava could see he was clearly pleased with his birthday surprise. And with the big win.

The paper trail led out the bedroom door and downstairs to the front door.

“Now what?” he asked.

“Open the door!” they all cried.

He pushed it open and peered into the hazy morning light. For a moment he stood frozen, taking in the amazing sight.

They had kept last night's toilet paper exactly as it was, and Tommy had strung up their little white Christmas lights. Alex and Ava had added a big birthday banner and lots of colorful balloons.

Coach began to laugh. “Incredible! You three are incredible!”

“Not only us,” Ava said. “The football team had a big part in the decorations.”

“Time to eat,” Alex said. She led their parents to a folding table set up in the middle of the decorated yard. The table sported a bright-orange tablecloth and blue napkins—the Tigers' colors.

“Out here? In my pajamas?” Coach seemed horrified.

“Watch this. Instant privacy.” Ava pulled closed a curtain made from two huge bedsheets that she'd strung between trees. The sheets blocked the view of the table from the street. She'd gotten the idea from Lindsey's fortune-telling booth.

“Football-shaped pancakes!” Coach cried with delight, as he surveyed all the food on the table.

“And gifts!” Ava gave him her football-shaped spatula. Alex gave him a platter that looked like a football field. She'd gone back to the store in the mall on Thursday and exchanged her spatula. Now their presents went together perfectly.

“One more game, and then we go to state!” Tommy reminded them, reaching for a large helping of bacon. They hadn't tried making chocolate-covered bacon. Just getting breakfast cooked and on the table had been challenging enough for the three of them. Adding boiling chocolate to the mix would have been asking for trouble.

“State is in Austin,” Mrs. Sackett said. “I've always wanted to visit. I hear they have great contemporary art galleries.”

“And great live music,” Tommy said.

“And great boutiques,” Alex put in.

“If the team makes it, can we all go?” Ava asked Coach. “Please?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “I'll need my whole family with me. We'll stay in a nice hotel.”

I hope they spring for two rooms,
Ava thought. In the past, they'd always crammed into one room. Mrs. Sackett and Coach in one bed, she and Alex sharing the other, and Tommy on a cot.
I don't want to share a bed with Alex,
she thought.
She snores.

“I don't want to share with you, either, Ava,” Alex retorted. “You kick at night.”

“What are you talking about?” Tommy asked. “Ava didn't say anything.”

Ava felt a shiver run down her spine. She locked eyes with Alex.
What had just happened between them?

“State! State! State!” The chant filled the crowded restaurant, echoing off the wood-beamed ceilings. Fans pounded the rhythm onto the worn tables. People just walking in immediately started stamping their feet to the beat in the aisles, dodging the waitresses balancing trays of steaming ribs and steaks.

Ava Sackett chanted so loudly that her throat hurt. The Ashland Tigers football team was going to the state championships!

She felt dizzy with excitement. Everyone in town was celebrating tonight, but Ava was sure that she was the happiest of all. This past summer, her family had moved from Massachusetts to Ashland, Texas, just so her dad could coach the high school team to victory. A lot of people had doubted him—but not Ava. She'd known Coach would lead the team all the way to the playoffs. And she knew he would win State, too.

Ava watched her twin sister Alex weave her way back from the bathroom at Fighting Tiger BBQ through the mass of fans. Strangers called out their congratulations. Alex beamed as she slid onto the bench next to Ava.

“Perfume much?” Ava teased, holding her nose. As usual, her twin sister had overly-spritzed herself with the honeysuckle body mist that she carried in her navy cross-body bag.

“You should try it,” Alex teased back, knowing that unlike her, Ava refused to wear makeup and perfume. “Besides, I can't handle smelling like cooked cow.”

“You don't have to put it that way!” Ava cried. Alex had become a vegetarian this year, so she wasn't a huge fan of the many barbeque restaurants in Texas.

Their older brother Tommy pushed in alongside Alex, squishing the twins closer together. Tommy had bulked up since he'd started playing high school football. The three of them barely fit onto the booth's bench.

The restaurant grew louder than other Friday night post-game celebrations. People roared, pretending to be actual tigers. Ava inhaled. Alex's familiar sweet floral scent comforted her in the chaos. She wasn't big on crowds.

“Austin, here we come,” Alex said. She gazed across the table at their mom. “We're all going to the game, right? You and Daddy promised.”

“Of course!” Coach jumped in. “I need my family with me in Austin.”

The championship game would be played two weeks from that night at the big university stadium in the state capital. Austin was a few hours away, so they'd have to stay overnight in a hotel. Ava hoped it would be a nice one with room service.

“Alex and I will check out all the cute boutiques and art galleries.” Mrs. Sackett clapped her hands together.

“For sure!” Alex agreed, twirling a strand of her long, chocolate-brown hair.

Shopping was one of Alex's passions, but it certainly wasn't one of Ava's. Dressing rooms held the top spot on her “Most Hated Places” list. Give her a worn jersey over a dress and tights any day! The Sackett twins looked identical, except for Alex's long hair and Ava's short hair, but when it came to their likes and dislikes, they were polar opposites.

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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