Page 10 of Did You See Evie

“I’m a basketball coach over at Manning Academy.”

Nadia’s face lights up and I imagine she’s replaying the same girlhood conversations I just did. “That’s always been your dream job.”

“It has.”

As we stare at one another, appraising the various changes that have taken place in the fifteen years since we last spoke, I feel a bundle of emotion rising inside of me, wetness building in my eyes. Nadia and I were so close once. Harsh upbringings bound us to one another. Basketball, in many ways, broke us apart, sent us on separate paths.

Nadia looks into the liquor store, then back at me. “Are you busy? I’d love to grab a drink somewhere and catch up.”

Part of me wants to jump at the chance to sit with my friend and reminisce about old times, but another part of me proceeds with caution. Not all our memories are happy ones. Nadia knows things about me no one else does, a fact that overshadows our friendly reunion.

“I can’t tonight,” I say, glancing at the bag in my arms. “I have plans with my fiancé, but I’d love to get together one night this week.”

“Fiancé?” She raises her eyebrows and pretends to bow. It’s quite jarring, these adult versions of ourselves juxtaposed against the mischievous girls we used to be. “I want to hear all about him. Give me your details.”

I recite my number to Nadia as she plugs the digits into her phone. She calls me so that I have her number, too. My pocket buzzes for a moment, letting me know we’re connected.

“It’s great seeing you again,” I say, shuffling to the parking lot.

I deposit the wine into the passenger seat and stick the keys into the ignition, but I don’t pull out of the lot right away. I’m still watching Nadia. From where I’m parked, I can see her waltzing around the store. She still has that easy way about her, flitting from aisle to aisle, studying each selection. Another gentleman passes her, then doubles back to say something to her.

Nadia’s as beautiful now as she was when we were younger, still capable of capturing the attention of strangers. I chuckle as I watch her flirt, like I’ve traveled back in time and I’m watching boys chat with her in the hallways of our high school. That charming demeanor helped us manipulate our way out of trouble time and time again, I remember uneasily.

So much has changed since then, most of it for the better. I never thought I would be the woman I am today. A role model for the younger girls in my community. Engaged to a wealthy Manning native. As Nadia says, working my dream job.

Before I put the car into drive, I open the console and stare at Melinda Terry’s cell phone, the one I stole last night. A lot has changed since my childhood, sure.

But maybe not everything.

SIX

The plans for the lock-in come together faster than I would have expected.

When the school day ends on Wednesday, we call for a meeting with the girls in the gymnasium. Joanna has trouble making it to campus this early, so Mr. Lake joins me as I address the team. Some of their parents—the ones who are always first to arrive for school pickup—stand along the periphery, listening.

“I know you’ve all been eager to celebrate Monday night’s win,” I begin.

The girls break out in a little round of applause, still riding the wave of victory. I hold out my hands, trying to settle them down.

“The school has decided,” I say, nodding to Mr. Lake, “we’ll host a lock-in this Friday night.”

“What’s a lock-in?” Colleen asks.

“Well, it’s like a slumber party at the school. Doors will open at eight o’clock. You’ll bring your sleeping bags and anything else you might need for the night. We’ll be sleeping here, inside the gymnasium,” I say, craning my head to look around the space. “There will be pizza and snacks. And Coach Reynolds has offered to set up the big screen so we can watch movies.”

“Does this mean we’re not going to the water park?” Beatrice asks.

“That’s not the best option at this time,” Mr. Lake says. “We thought this would be a fun alternative.”

“Will the rest of the school be here?” Evie asks. She’s sitting on the front row of the bleachers, in the same hoodie she wore on Monday night.

“Just the team,” I answer. “Coach Joanna and I will be the chaperones.”

“Wait,” Beth asks with a heavy dose of dramatics. “Does that mean no parents?”

“No parents,” I say, watching for reactions from the adults standing by the bleachers. “You’ll spend the night here, and your parents can pick you up Saturday morning by nine.”

“I think it sounds fun,” Tara says. “Are we allowed to bring our phones?”

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