Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 27

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Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 27

December 22
Eli sat at his parents’ kitchen table, slowly and methodically shoving Cheerios into his mouth
while Cora and Wendall lamented over the morning newspaper. Because they were the kind of
people who still subscribed to an actual newspaper. Sinkhole Destroys Port Stephen Prep, the
headline read. No Chance of Rebuilding Now, Sources Say, said the smaller one right
underneath.
“It’s such a shame,” Eli’s mom said through tears. “Think about all the kids who were hoping to
finish up the year at their own school.”
Wendall sighed, pouring everyone more coffee. “Looks like Max will have to graduate from
Southern instead. Poor kid.”
Cora dabbed at her eyes with her wrist. “I don’t understand how this could have happened.
There was never any sign of instability in that area before.”
Eli choked on his Cheerios.
“Well, what with all that storm damage, I’m sure things got shaken up,” Wendall said
reasonably. “And some of the buildings on that campus are pretty old. They opened that in,
what, the early eighties?”
“Sixties, actually,” Eli said while trying to clear his throat. He picked up his glass of orange juice
and drank it all in three painful gulps.
“Hey, easy, kiddo.” Wendall tipped his chin at the juice glass. “Try to taste it as it goes down,
huh?”
“Sorry.” Eli put his empty glass down, keeping his gaze on his bowl of mostly milk.
Cora pushed away from the table. “I’ve got to see your aunt Honey. She’ll be devastated by all
this. She was really hoping Max would graduate from Prep.”

-- 117 of 228 --

“And I’ve got some last-minute errands to attend to.” Wendall gave Eli a wink for some reason—
was he supposed to pretend like he still didn’t know where Christmas presents came from?—
and left as well.
Eli sat there and stared at the headline on the abandoned copy of the Saint Stephen County
News & Report that was folded next to his dad’s plate of toast crusts. They’d gotten a drone
photo of the sinkhole from above. Another column under the main story wondered if it would
break some kind of record for diameter.
Nausea roiled in his stomach. Before he could think too hard about it, he pulled out his phone
and called Nick.
He picked up on the second ring. “Hey.” He sounded just as rough as Eli felt.
“Hey.” Eli licked his dry lips, chasing the taste of orange. “Want to go for a run?”
In no time at all, they were back on their beach, although running didn’t actually seem to be in
the cards. Eli plodded along the sand slowly with his arms wrapped around his trembling
middle. Beside him, Nick looked equally queasy and disheveled. Probably hadn’t gotten much
sleep either. Even though Eli had gone straight to bed after being dropped off the night before,
he hadn’t slept a wink. He kept staring at the ceiling and wondering if he should expect a state
trooper to come knocking on his parents’ door anytime soon.
“We need to talk,” he made himself say once they were far enough away from any other
beachgoers.
Nick nodded. “Yeah. We do. That kiss…”
“What? No.” Eli frowned. “The kiss was—nothing. An accident. I mean, we need to talk about
the fact that we destroyed the school.”
“Oh.” Nick stared ahead, his back and shoulders rigid. “Sure. Of course.”
Eli felt like an asshole, but what else was he supposed to say? Sorry I went back on the pact that
I said we should make? After all, none of that mattered if he went to jail. “Do you think there
were any security cameras?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t have broken in with you in the first place,” Nick pointed out. “Besides, it
wasn’t our fault.”
“Wasn’t it, though?” Eli was sure his eyes were bugging out of his head. “The hole only started
sinking once we messed around with those bookcases.”
“A couple bookcases falling over won’t trigger a sinkhole. I think. I’m pretty certain.” Nick
frowned down at his bare feet as they walked. “It was a textbook act of god thing.”

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