The Chance: A Novel (13 page)

Ellie passed him the flashlight. She took the shovel, slid it into the loose dirt, and dumped it on top of the box. With every shovelful, she tried to picture it. Digging up the box eleven years from now. She would be twenty-six, out of college, and on her way to a writing career. Maybe even an author by then. Gradually, she filled in the space around the sides and top of the box. When she was finished, Nolan pressed his foot into the fresh-packed dirt, and it settled some. Ellie added a few more shovelfuls, and they repeated the process until the ground over the box was solid.

They sat down, and Nolan turned off the flashlight. “I can’t believe you’re leaving.”

“Me, either.” The laughter from earlier was gone, the reality sinking in. For almost two hours they sat beneath the tree and
talked about every wonderful memory they had shared. At last they stood and stared at each other, dreading what was ahead. He looked down at the ground. “What’s in your backpack?”

She had almost forgotten. “I grabbed some things from my room. When I left.” She released his hands, stooped down, and unzipped it. She brought out a small, worn plush bunny. “Remember this?”

His laugh interrupted the seriousness of the coming good-bye. “I won it for you . . . at the church carnival.”

“It’s been on my bed since I was in fifth grade.” She handed it to him. “I want you to have it.”

The lightness of the moment fell away again. He took it and brought it to his face. “It smells like you.”

She rummaged around in the backpack and pulled out a framed photo, the two of them at eighth-grade graduation. “My mom had these made. One for each of us. I forgot about them until tonight.”

Nolan took the picture. It was too dark to really see it, but that wasn’t the point. He set the frame and the stuffed rabbit down on the tree root and took her hands again. “I don’t have anything to give you.”

“You already have.” She felt her eyes blur again, felt the tears overflow from her aching heart. “That diamond ring you won me from the machine at Pete’s Pizza. I kept that.”

“You did?” He looked as happy as he was surprised. “I didn’t know.”

“I kept everything you ever gave me.”

“Hmm.” He took a slight step closer. The humidity was thick around them, the moss low in the trees, marking this magical place that had been theirs alone. “You have to write that novel. The one you always talk about.”

She smiled even as a few tears slipped onto her cheeks. “I will.”

When it was almost eleven, Nolan reached for her hand again. This time he slid his fingers between hers. The way he might if he were her boyfriend. “You know what I’m afraid of?”

“What?” She leaned against his shoulder.

“I play my best basketball when you watch.” He looked at her, his eyes searching hers. “How am I supposed to win a state championship without you?”

“You have your dad.” She smiled, but her heart beat fast again. They had only a few minutes. “You’re the coach’s son, Nolan. You’ll always be the best.”

“See.” He still faced her, their hands joined. “You say things like that. Around you, I feel like no one can stop me. Like I’ll play in the NBA someday.”

“You will.” Her smile fell away. “I . . . have to go.”

He hung his head, and his grip on her hands grew tighter. As if he were angry at time itself for daring to take them from this place, this night. When he lifted his eyes to hers once more, he looked broken. “I
will
call you. When you get there, call me and give me your number.”

“Okay.” She knew his number by heart. That part would be easy. “But . . . how will you visit?”

“I’ll get my license next year.” He ran his thumbs along her hands. “It’ll be fun. A road trip.”

She didn’t want to say it, but his parents would never let him drive cross-country by himself. Not at sixteen years old. But she only nodded, wanting to believe it because he said so. Because there was nothing else to do.

He paused, watching her, as if trying to memorize the moment. “Ellie . . . don’t forget me.”

She wanted to ask him if he was crazy. Because she could never forget him, never stop trying to find her way back, never stop believing he would find her again somehow. But she didn’t want to break down, so she only fell slowly into his arms and put her head on his shoulder. “I don’t want to go.”

“I’ll walk you back, since you don’t have your bike.”

The idea breathed a few more minutes into their time together. He slung her backpack over his shoulder, and they walked to his house across the street first, so Nolan could leave the shovel and flashlight, the paper and pen. Then he eased his fingers between hers once more and walked close beside her all the way to her house, their shoulders brushing, their steps slow and even.

The lights were off, but that didn’t mean her dad wasn’t waiting up. He would never stand for her being out past curfew. Even tonight. They stopped near a large bush, so if her dad was watching, he couldn’t see her saying good-bye. Again Nolan pulled her into his arms. “I hate this.”

“Me, too.” She wiped at her quiet tears. “I have to go.”

He put his hands on her shoulders the way he had earlier, and in the glow of the streetlight, they could see each other better. It was the first time she had ever seen Nolan’s eyes full of tears. His hands found their way to the sides of her face, and without either of them talking about it or questioning it, he leaned in and kissed her. Not a long kiss or anything, like in the movies. Just his lips against hers long enough that she had a hint of what he might have written in his letter. A hint of how much he cared.

He held up one hand and mouthed, “Good-bye, Ellie.”

Her voice was less than a whisper. “Good-bye.”

As if each step physically hurt him, he backed away, and
then he turned and began running down the street, away from her and out of her life. Ellie dropped to her knees on the grass and buried her face in her hands.
God . . . how could you let this happen?
Her mother cheating, her father moving her away. And this last night with Nolan—when they could no longer pretend about being only friends.

Her tears came fast and hard, the sobs as strong as they had been when she first heard the news about her mom, about the move to San Diego. They would miss their freshman year at Savannah High together, and she wouldn’t get to watch him play basketball. They wouldn’t sit next to each other at the school’s bonfires, and they wouldn’t go to dances together. They wouldn’t have another summer night beneath their old oak tree. It was all over, all behind them.

The one thing that gave her strength to stand and make her way into the house, the only reason she could draw another breath at all, was the old metal box buried between the tree roots. The box and the letters and the possibility that remained eleven years from today.

Their one last chance.

Chapter
Five

W
hen Ellie didn’t come to his house the next night, he knew it had happened. She had moved to San Diego, and he could do nothing but wait for her phone call. But when a week passed and then another, and she hadn’t called, Nolan began to worry.

“She knows our number.” He and his father were shooting around at the gym, getting ready for the start of the season. Nolan felt his frustration grow stronger. “I don’t get it.”

“Maybe they don’t have a phone yet. They’re probably in temporary housing on the base. Until they get settled.” His dad passed him the ball. “You’ll hear from her.”

“I hate that she’s gone.” Nolan muttered the words under his breath. He shot the ball, and it slipped easily through the center of the net.

His father caught it and held it, watching him. “I know you miss her, son. I’m sorry.” He hesitated, his concern genuine. “If you don’t hear from her soon, I’ll help you find her.” He looked at his watch. “Come on. Your mother’s got dinner.”

“I need another hour.” He held his hands out for the ball. “Please, Dad.” Basketball was his hiding place. The only way Nolan survived missing her.

For a few seconds, his father looked like he might insist. But then he grinned. “You’re a coach’s dream. You know that, right?”

Nolan smiled, because he’d won—and because every minute he pounded the ball against the parquet, each hour as he fired up one shot after another at the hoop, was another minute he didn’t have to think about missing her.

Her first phone call didn’t come until a week later. It was just before nine o’clock, and he was nearest to the phone when it rang. He picked it up, hoping it was Ellie, the way he always did lately when the phone rang. “Hello?”

“Nolan.” She sounded relieved and nervous at the same time. “It’s me.”

“Ellie . . .” He took the closest chair and shaded his eyes with his free hand. “Why haven’t you called?”

“My dad . . . He won’t let me.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “We don’t have a phone.”

Nolan’s mind screamed for answers. “But you’re getting one, right?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice broke, and she didn’t say anything for several seconds. “I haven’t talked to my mom, either. We never said good-bye. It’s like she doesn’t even care about me.”

“Ellie . . . that’s awful.” Nolan felt the muscles in his arms tighten, felt his face getting hot. “Maybe my dad could talk to him.”

“I don’t know.” Tears filled her voice. “Maybe.”

“Where are you? Is he there?”

“We’re at the store. I told him . . . I had to use the restroom.” She sounded desperate and afraid and heartbroken. “I . . . I took some quarters from . . . from his nightstand.” She caught a few quick breaths. “If he catches me . . .”

“Ellie, this is crazy.” His voice was louder than before. “I’ll talk to him. Go find him.”

“I can’t.” Her voice got swallowed in her tears. “I have to go. I just . . . had to hear your voice.”

Panic squeezed his chest, pushing him toward the door as if he could somehow find a way to her. “Is he . . . Are you in danger?”

“No, nothing like that.” She was quick to respond. “I just . . . miss you.”

They needed a plan. Nolan hurried through a handful of options. “Give me your new address.”

“It’s changing.” She groaned. “We’re in San Diego, on the base. My dad says we could get our permanent housing any day.”

“Still, you can tell me. They can forward mail after you move. Hold on.” He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the closest drawer. “Okay, what is it?”

She gasped. “Nolan, I have to go.”

“Wait.” His panic doubled. “You know my address, right?”

“Of course: 392 Kentucky Avenue, Savannah, 31404. How could I forget it?”

Relief came over Nolan like sunshine. “Okay. So you need to write to me, Ellie. Find a way. In the letter, give me your address. Then I’ll write to you, and we can figure out how to call. Maybe a neighbor has a phone you can use.”

“Nolan!” Her voice dropped to a desperate whisper. “I have to go! I miss you.”

“I miss—” The phone went dead. Nolan hung his head and slowly put the receiver back. She must have spotted her dad.
At least we have a plan.
He exhaled, trying to feel good about it. She knew his address. Ellie was her own person. She’d find a way to write to him, no matter what her dad wanted.

The problem was he had no way to reach her until she did. Again one week became two without a word from her. Nolan spent the lonely days playing more basketball than he’d played in all his life. He would head home after school, check the mail, change into his gym shoes and shorts, and grab his ball. He wouldn’t come home until nine or ten; then he’d do his homework, fall into bed, and the next day do it all over again. Week after week after week.

The season was about to start, and he still hadn’t heard from her. Other than when he was on the court, he walked around in a constant state of worry. Fear, even. Ellie would’ve written, so what had happened? He had tried calling Camp Pendleton a few times, asking for a way to contact the Tucker family.

“That’s private,” he was told every time. “We don’t give out personal information.”

Tryouts came, and Nolan worked with a blind intensity. At the end of the three days, his name was on the list of varsity players. His father pulled him aside. “I set a higher bar for you than the other guys.” He grinned. “And you just flew over it. Congratulations, son. I couldn’t be more proud.”

It was what Nolan had been working for since sixth grade—the chance to play varsity as a freshman. But the news fell flat against the reality of missing Ellie. “You think she’s okay?” he asked his dad that weekend. “I mean, why wouldn’t she write?”

“Maybe her letter got lost.” His dad’s tone was always kind; he felt sorry about the situation for sure. “I do think she’s
okay.” He put his hand on Nolan’s shoulder. “You’ll hear from her. Let’s see if we can find her after the season if you haven’t heard from her by then.”

Nolan nodded. Maybe his dad was right. They couldn’t do much now. Besides, Ellie loved when he played basketball. If he played with his whole heart, he would feel her with him, in the stands, cheering for him, believing in him.

Almost like she was there.

The first contest of the season, Nolan lit up the scoreboard with twenty-two points and seven rebounds. The rhythm of the game, the motion of it, the speed at the varsity level were all as natural for Nolan as waking up in the morning. The win was only the beginning. One game blended into another, and he was the standout. But when the applause died down and the crowd went home, he would sometimes sit in the empty gym and feel her.