Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 36

[adminnovelsaudio]

Listen Audiobook Version:



Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 36

Nick licked his suddenly dry lips. “Weird. Me too.” He took a long pull from his Bud Light so he
wouldn’t have to say anything else. Definitely shouldn’t mention out loud his childish plan to
dance closer and closer until they were dancing together.
As it turned out, he didn’t have to say anything at all. Because Eli made it all a reality on his
own.
He grabbed Nick by the hand and slapped it in place at his waist. “Come on. Like back in eighth
grade.” Eli took both their drinks and set them down on a cocktail table, put his own hands on

-- 129 of 228 --

Nick’s hips, and held him awkwardly at arm’s length. “Remember? ‘There should be room for
one more student between you,’ ” he parroted in a scratchy voice.
“Mrs. Petinski.” Nick hadn’t remembered her name or even thought of her in two decades.
“She’d always chaperone the dances.”
“Room for one more student? No wonder so many of our generation have turned to polyamory.
You planted the seed, Mrs. Petinski, so cheers.”
Nick mirrored Eli’s hip-holding stance as they both re-created the worst of their childhood
dancing: shuffling from one foot to the other as TLC crooned about—how you shouldn’t follow
your dreams? Nick was never sure what the lyrics were trying to say. He just knew he couldn’t
stop smiling.
Eli hammed it up, staring down at his shoes in an exaggerated flusteredpreteen manner. “Um,
gosh, Nicholas, you look so nice dressed up. Maybe after this we can go to, um, Denny’s? If you
want? My mom can drive us.”
Nick clicked his tongue. “I don’t know if my dad will let me. I have to be home by curfew.” He
pretended to think hard. “But maybe we could go to Skate World this weekend? I could buy you
a hot dog and try to win you a pencil topper in the arcade.”
Eli looked up. He was a pretty good comedic actor, his eyes overly wide. “Really? A whole top of
a pencil?” He shimmied closer, looking over his
shoulder as if the ghost of Mrs. Petinski might be watching. “Nick Wu,” he murmured seriously,
“you truly are all that and a bag of chips.”
Nick laughed, shaking his head. Yet another phrase that hadn’t crossed his mind in forever.
A dancer brushed by, barely making contact with Nick’s elbow, but Nick took the opportunity to
draw closer to Eli on the pretense of getting out of their way. He glanced down into the slice of
space between their bodies. They were almost flush together.
The best he could hope for was to keep things fun and light so that Eli didn’t pull away. “What
kind of chips? And don’t say something racist like sriracha.”
“Hey, I don’t go for low-hanging fruit like that.” Eli gave the dance floor a pointed look. They
weren’t the only people who had coupled up for the slow-ish song. “Though if you ask me, the
clientele here is all about the low-hanging fruits.”
“And here I thought you were strictly anti–dick joke.” They had moved into an area next to one
of the huge speakers, so Nick got closer to be heard.

-- 130 of 228 --

“I’m anti–small-dick joke. This one works on multiple levels.” Eli moved closer too. The points of
their hips met every other beat as they swayed. Nearer and nearer, but out of sync. “It could
also be a ball joke. See? Levels.”