Page 49 of From A to Us

“Your mom lives in New Brunswick now?”

Nolan nodded. “She moved out there a couple of months ago with her husband after she retired. His family’s there, and they wanted to be closer to them.”

“She’s American, right? And your dad’s Canadian? So do you consider yourself American or Canadian?”

“Canadian. I was raised there, and I lived there for most of my life.”

Eli cocked his head. “But you weren’t born there?”

“Colorado,” Nolan said. “My dad was coaching in Denver at the time. We moved to Canada when I was eight months old, and we lived in . . . four different cities there before I was ten? I think. We went where my dad’s coaching jobs were, even after my parents divorced. I lived with my dad because my mom was an airline pilot. I couldn’t go with her on long-haul overnight flights, but I could accompany my dad to the arena and on away-game trips until eventually I was old enough to stay home by myself. Usually, I’d visit my mom for a couple of weeks during the summer when she had vacation time.”

“It must’ve sucked being the new kid all the time,” Eli said. He’d been there too, going wherever hockey took him. He’d been lucky that there’d always been other boys on his teams ready to befriend him.

But Nolan wasn’t Eli, and Eli couldn’t picture him inserting himself into a conversation like he’d always been part of it.

What was it Nolan had said in his letter? Something about how Eli made him feel like he existed next to him and not like he was looking at him through a dirty window.

Had Nolan ever felt like he belonged anywhere?

And now here he was, in a new job and again the new kid. And worse—his job was to literally observe the Trailblazers from the outside.

And worse worse—the job was temporary. In a few short months, he’d presumably be the new kid yet again somewhere else.

“It did suck,” Nolan replied, glancing away. “It was hard to make friends at school when I knew we’d be moving again in the next year or two. I tried making friends with the players on my dad’s team, but since I didn’t play hockey, they didn’t know what to do with me.” His quick smile held a hint of sadness. “So I learned to occupy myself with books and eventually with part-time jobs. I knew the public transportation systems backward and forward everywhere we lived. I could pack a moving truck with military precision and navigate airports like a pro. I learned to cook for myself. I’m a pretty decent cook, you know.”

“What’s your favorite dish to cook?” Eli asked, changing the subject away from being the new kid since Nolan’s tense shoulders spoke to his uneasiness.

“Honestly? Mac and cheese. Massively unhealthy, but super delicious. It’s comfort food, you know? I’ll make it for you sometime.”

“How about tonight?”

“Sure, assuming you have the ingredients. You do have more than bread, canned soup, and chips, right?”

“Asshole.” Eli threw a chip at him. “I have a very well-stocked pantry and fridge, I’ll have you know.”

“As long as you’ve got cheddar cheese, milk, butter, flour, salt, and garlic powder, we’re golden.”

“You know the recipe by heart?”

Nolan chuckled. “I’ve made it many, many times.”

Eli popped a chip into his mouth and regarded Nolan for a moment. “Can I ask you a semi-serious question?”

“Only if I can ask you a semi-serious question back.”

“Fair.” Eli licked all-dressed spices off his thumb to give himself a second to phrase his question in his head. “You said your ex said you had one foot out the door. What do you think it would’ve taken for you to bring that foot back in?”

Nolan groaned softly. “Fuck, Eli. That’s a fully loaded, serious question, not a semi-serious one.”

Eli almost felt bad asking, but something had clearly made Nolan hesitate with Amber. Whatever it was, Eli wanted to know so that he could address it.

Because he didn’t want Nolan to hesitate with him.

“Truth is, I don’t know.” Nolan frowned at the bowl of chips. “Like I said, I didn’t realize I had a foot out the door in the first place, so I don’t know what would’ve made me bring it back in.” He let out a frustrated sound and sat up. “I don’t know,” he repeated, his eyes pained. “I didn’t . . .” He looked away, the lines of his body stretched tight. “You know when you have good news? Or bad news? Or you’ve had a great day or a bad day, and you want to tell someone about it? I never wanted to tell her. Other people? Sure. My parents, my best friend. But not Amber.”

“Oh,” Eli said on a breath. “Was she hard to talk to?”

“No, not at all. She was easy to talk to. I just didn’t want to tell her certain things. I wasn’t comfortable being—” Nolan broke off abruptly, shutting his mouth with a clack.