Page 15 of One Little Chance
Or find yourself sitting by.
I’d donned my oversized gray Sweet River High sweatshirt for the basketball game that early February night. I strolled inside hit by waves of nostalgia and the scent of nacho cheese. I got myself a tub of popcorn and a soda and made my way into the gym, squinting into the bleachers to find Diane, our art teacher, pointing to the empty spot beside her. I squeezed through the stands toward her and our small teacher group.
I plopped down beside them.
Before I could say hello, I heard a familiar deep voice rumble, “I like the sweatshirt.”
In shock, I jerked to the right, popcorn flinging from my tub as I startled, to find two warm hazel eyes on me.Jordan.
Jordan was currently covered in my freshly buttered popcorn. It was a tragedy on so many levels.
I had been zeroed in on finding Diane and our teacher crew. I hadn’t noticed one of the most important faces in my life sitting beside them.
“Oh no. Oh no,” I repeated, scrambling to pick kernels off his navy sweater, feeling my face flush. “I didn’t mean to spill this on you!”
“You mean you didn’t mean to throw popcorn as some evil act of vengeance for how I used to crush you on the court?” He was smiling down at me as I dusted salt off his torturously broad chest. A smile I knew well, the one when he pitied me and found me cute at the same time.
I immediately pulled back. “Crushed me on the court?Dream on.”
He chuckled. Sneakers squeaked across the court below.
I spotted a few more kernels on his jeans, saying, “I am sorry.” I buried my face in my salty hands.
He leaned in closer, peering into the half-empty tub in my lap. “You know, sharing that last half would more than makeup for it? Throw in some nachos, and honestly, I’ll be glad you spilled on me.”
“Deal.” I reached out a hand, and we shook on it, defenses between us melting like butter.
Jordan and I came back from the concessions with more popcorn, two pickles, an order of nachos, and a large soda for Jordan. As we settled back into our seats, Jordan had already finished his pickle and was gulping down his soda. I’d forgotten how much he ate. I used to say he had to fuel all his motion. Always running, always playing a game, building something new, throwing a ball, talking to a neighbor.
“How’s the new apartment coming along?” Jordan woke me from my thoughts like we were old pals and checked in on each other.
“It’s coming along nicely,” I said, then after taking a sip of my soda continued. “Pictures have been hung. Furniture arranged. I have this perfect view from my living room and bedroom of the park across the street.”
“Oh, yeah, Hall Park?” Jordan said, and I nodded. “I’ve coached kids’ soccer there the past few years.”
“Why does the sound of you coaching soccer on the weekend make perfect sense?” The shot clock buzzed. People shouted around us.
“I started for my nephew, and I guess it stuck.”
“You have multiple nieces and nephews now, right?” I asked as if I hadn’t been following along the past few years through social media and conversations with mutual friends.
“Two nephews and two nieces. It’s the best.” He opened his phone and started swiping through photos, leaning close to show me. Him holding tiny, pink babies. Him with a little toddler girl on his shoulders.
“That’s Kimber,” he said her name softly. Him at the zoo making funny faces with two little boys in front of the monkeys. “Those two can wreak havoc, but they’re hilarious.”
“This one,” I pointed at the sandy-haired one with a wide smile. “Looks like you.”
Jordan gazed lovingly at the photo. “You think?”
“Spitting image of you as a boy,” I said, taking in Jordan’s own sandy hair and big smile.
“That’s Logan,” he said. “He is actually severely hard of hearing. He’s not deaf, but we realized when he was barely a toddler, he was having trouble hearing. He just got cochlear implants. It’s been a lot on Jenna.” He softened as he said his sister’s name. “She’s a mom now. It’s crazy. And she’s a really good one.”
“I’m sure she is a good one,” I said over the noise of the crowd around us. Jenna was always so strong and steady, keeping us younger kids in check. It was easy to imagine her as a mom now.
“It’s been fun to watch.” He closed his phone. “Is it weird? You left, and I was just this dumb nineteen-year-old kid. You come back, and I’m an uncle with a bigger family.”
“Your family has always been giant.” I popped a piece of popcorn in my mouth. “You all keep growing and growing. Soon you’ll take over Sweet River.”
