Digging Deep

by Elena Delle Donne

“I’d like to say hi,” Patrice said in such a simple, sweet way that I wanted to hug her. A lot of people are shy or awkward when they first meet Beth, but not Patrice, and that meant something. I could tell my mom thought so too by the way she was beaming.

  “Sure,” I said, and I took Patrice by the hand and we went to Beth. I let Beth sniff my head, and then I signed “friend” into her hand. Then I put Patrice’s hand in Beth’s. Patrice smiled, and so did my sister.

  “All right, everybody,” Dad said. “Mangiamo!”

  Mangiamo means “let’s eat” in Italian, and that’s what we did. Dinner was delicious, and Patrice was talking with everybody and smiling and laughing the whole time.

  Later, after Avery and Patrice left, Mom talked to me.

  “That Patrice is such a lovely girl,” she said. “I’m glad you invited her over.”

  “So am I,” I said.

  I realized that I’d never have invited Patrice over if I hadn’t gone to the Buddy Club meeting. And I wouldn’t have gone to the Buddy Club if I hadn’t quit basketball.

  Maybe, I thought, quitting the team was the right decision after all!

  7

  Eleven Is My Number

  There is nothing fun about fundamentals!” Taylor moaned at Tuesday’s volleyball practice.

  Coach Patel was drilling us on the basics: passing, setting, hitting, and serving. I appreciated it, because all this stuff was new to me. But I could see where it might get repetitive if you did it all the time.

  “Mastering the fundamentals is how you will excel,” Coach Patel promised.

  “I know. I just wish we could play, too,” Taylor said, lobbing a pass to me across the court.

  I spoke up. “Would it be weird to have a three-on-three scrimmage game?” I asked.

  “I’ve thought about it, but I don’t know if it would work,” Coach replied. “You’d have to do a lot of running around to cover the court.”

  “We should try it,” Taylor urged him.

  “Yeah, why not?” Summer asked.

  “Okay, then,” Coach said. He looked at us. “Kenya, Maggie, Elle on one side. Taylor, Summer, and Jenna on the other. One of you from each side, play the net.”

  “Hooray!” Taylor cheered, and we all quickly ran into place.

  Taylor served the ball over the net, and I had to run to the corner to get to it. I passed to Maggie, who set to Kenya. She had to run back from the net to get the ball, so she couldn’t spike it over. But she hit with all her might, and Jenna and Summer had to scramble.

  It was a pretty crazy practice game! We all spent twice as much energy as usual, chasing after the ball. But we all got to scrimmage—setting, hitting, and serving in a game setting—which was a lot more fun than just doing drills.

  I liked getting to run around the court more instead of standing in basically the same place when the ball was in play. As much as I was learning to love volleyball, I really missed that free feeling of tearing down the court.

  When practice ended, we were all sweaty messes.

  Taylor punched me on the shoulder. “Great idea, Ace! What did we ever do without you?”

  I think I blushed. It was really flattering to be given such a cool nickname after only one week of playing. In basketball the only nickname I’d earned was Runaway Train, for going out of bounds. Ace was a lot better.

  Still, things kept happening that made me miss basketball. On Thursday I volunteered at Camp Cooperation, an after-school program for kids with special needs. Inside the multipurpose room the kids were gathered around tables with Brian, Janette, and Vicky—the adults who ran the program. A blond-haired boy with Down syndrome—Pete, my friend Caroline’s little brother—ran up to me.

  “Elle! We can’t go outside today!” Pete said.

  “I know, Pete,” I said. “But we can have fun inside.”

  “We’re making snowmen,” he said, pointing to a bowl of white foam balls on the table. “It’s boring.”

  “I don’t know. I think it looks fun,” I said. “Come on, I’ll help you.”

  I led Pete back to the table and sat down next to him and his friend Max, who was quietly coloring a picture of a reindeer.

  I reached for one of the white foam balls. “This looks like a good one for the bottom,” I said. “What do you think?”

  “You don’t play basketball anymore,” Pete blurted out.

  It was the first time I’d seen Pete since I’d quit. I should have known he would have something to say about it. When I played, he was my biggest cheerleader.

  “No, I don’t,” I said.

  “But you were the best player,” Pete said.

  “There are lots of good players on the team,” I said. “Anyway, I’m playing volleyball now.”

  “That’s when you hit the ball over the net,” Pete stated.

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Boring,” he said, and then he started making a snowman, so I guess he thought that volleyball was even more boring than doing crafts!

  Then Patrice walked in and removed her soaking-wet rain jacket. A freezing, early winter rain had been falling all day.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she said. “I was in the nurse’s office with a really bad headache. But it’s better now.”

  Another headache, I thought. It didn’t sound like Patrice had talked to her mom about how she was feeling.

  Patrice must have caught the look on my face. “Really, I’m okay,” she said.

  “Patrice, come make a snowman!” Pete called out, and Patrice smiled and sat down at the table with us. We had fun, and by the time camp was over, I’d forgotten to be worried about her.

  • • •

  “Two is her number!” Kenya yelled.

  “Two is her number!” the rest of the volleyball team shouted back.

  “Maggie is her name!” Kenya yelled.

  “Maggie is her name!” we repeated.

  “She’s one reason!”

  “She’s one reason!”

  “We’re gonna win the game!” Kenya finished.

  Then Kenya moved on to the next player.

  “Three is her number!”

  We kept the chant going until we’d cheered for every member of the team. I have to admit, I got a little thrill when I heard my name and my number—eleven. When we finished, we started clapping and cheering.

  We were in the Spring Meadow middle school gym, ready to face a club team from Wilmington. They were undefeated, and I knew Kenya was trying to get us psyched up in the face of certain defeat.

  I was excited to play in another game, to see what would happen. And I was even more excited when I saw some familiar faces in the stands: Amanda and Caroline, who had brought Pete with her.

  Pete waved at me. “Go Elle! Play boring volleyball!”

  Caroline nudged him, but I laughed. It was really sweet that they had come to the game. I waved at Amanda, and she waved back.

  Then it was time for the game. Coach had put me in position four, up by the net. I got a good look at the Wilmington team. They had a lot of players on the bench, which meant that they wouldn’t get tired out as quickly as we would. This wasn’t going to be easy, but I wasn’t nervous. I knew we were all going to play our best. And have fun doing it.

  Wilmington served. The ball flew to Kenya, who was in the serving position, deep in the corner. She had to lunge for it, and when she made contact, the ball shot between Taylor and Jenna and they both missed it.

  Wilmington started clapping in rhythm. “You better duck, you better hide, ’cause Ava’s serving to your side!” they chanted.

  Taylor turned to me and rolled her eyes. Ava served again for Wilmington. She aimed it in the same place, but this time, Kenya was ready for it. She passed it nicely to Summer, who set me up at the front of the net, and I spiked it over, past Wilmington’s blockers and defense. We’d won the serve!

  Taylor high-fived me, and my energy was pumping. With that one rally, we’d proven that we had what it took to beat Wilmin
gton. And that’s exactly what we did.

  It was a close game, and it wasn’t easy. They scored a few points by spiking the ball over the net, but whenever I was blocking I made sure they never got past me. That was a good feeling. And I was getting a lot better at setting the ball. I set one to Maggie that she bounced between two of the Wilmington players!

  In the end we won by two points. We formed a circle, jumping up and down and hugging one another. Then we shook hands with the Wilmington team.

  Amanda, Caroline, and Pete came down from the stands.

  “What do you think, Pete?” I asked. “Was it boring?”

  “Only kind of boring,” Pete said. “You were the best, Elle.”

  I shook my head. “I really need to make you my official personal cheerleader,” I said.

  “Well, he’s right,” Amanda said. “It’s so not fair. You’re great at basketball, and you’re great at volleyball, too.”

  “I’m just having fun,” I said.

  “And you’re winning,” Caroline pointed out.

  I glanced over at my team. “Well, I should go get changed.”

  “Can you come to the Nighthawks game tomorrow?” Amanda asked.

  I really wanted to say yes. But I still couldn’t face the idea of watching them play without me.

  “Maybe,” I said. Then I lied. “I think we might be doing some family holiday thing.”

  “Okay. Maybe I’ll see you over break?” she asked.

  “Definitely,” I said.

  I turned to Caroline and Pete. “If I don’t see you guys, have a Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, Elle!” Pete said.

  I ran to meet up with my team for some postgame pizza, and I felt light. We’d won our game, my friends had come to see me, and I had a whole week off from school and volleyball to look forward to.

  It kind of surprised me, but I realized that I felt happier than I had in a long time!

  8

  Jingle All the Way

  Wake up, Elle! It’s Christmas! Wake up, Elle! Wake up! Zobe pleaded.

  Actually, I could only hear Zobe talking to me in my dream state. But that’s what he might as well have been saying, because he was licking my face and pawing me, desperately trying to wake me up.

  I picked up my phone. 6:30 a.m.!

  “Really, Zobe?” I asked.

  A few years ago I would have jumped out of bed at 6:30 on Christmas morning. But last night we’d had a big dinner with Grandma and Grandpa, and then gone to midnight mass, and all I wanted to do was sleep.

  Obviously, Zobe had other ideas.

  I sat up, getting my bearings. When Grandma and Grandpa sleep over, they take my bedroom and Zobe and I camp out in the family room in the basement. I’d brought down some clothes with me, and I quickly got changed into sweatpants and a hoodie, pulled back my hair into a ponytail, and jogged upstairs with Zobe at my heels.

  It was quiet upstairs—I was the only one awake. In the living room the white lights of the Christmas tree twinkled on the piles of wrapped presents underneath the tree. I fed Zobe and then put on my sneakers and ran around with him for a while in the backyard. The chilly morning air woke me up, and when I got inside, Grandma was downstairs making coffee. Her short blond hair was messy from sleeping, and she wore red leggings and a red sweatshirt with a Christmas teddy bear on it.

  “Merry Christmas, Elle!” she said cheerfully.

  I hugged her. “Merry Christmas, Grandma.”

  “Are you going to wake up your parents and make them open presents?” she asked.

  I laughed. “I’m not eight anymore, Grandma,” I said. Then I yawned. “I’m only up this early because of Zobe.”

  Zobe walked over to Grandma, who patted his head. “He seems much calmer now, Elle.”

  I nodded. “I think the obedience classes are helping.”

  Then I heard stomping on the stairs, and Jim bounded into the kitchen.

  “Merry Christmas!” he shouted.

  I put my hands over my ears. “Seriously, Jim? Aren’t you an adult now?”

  “It’s my last Christmas at home!” he said.

  “No, it’s not,” I said. “You’ll be coming home from college next year for Christmas.”

  “Well, you know what I mean,” he said. “I’m just excited, I guess.”

  Grandma shook her head. “Just like your father,” she said. “The Delucas have Christmas in their blood.”

  “And marinara sauce,” Dad added, walking into the kitchen. “I need to get my lasagna started.”

  “Can we open presents now?” Jim asked.

  “Not until Uncle Danny and Aunt Jess get here with the kids,” Dad said.

  “Aw, come on,” Jim pleaded.

  I laughed. “Jimmy wants to open up his presents,” I teased.

  “Don’t make fun of me. I got you something awesome,” he said.

  “Well, I got you something awesome too,” I shot back.

  “You mean like that flashlight pen you got me last year?” Jim asked.

  “Hey, I thought it was useful,” I said. “If you didn’t like it, I’ll take it back!”

  I chased after him, and he ran away from me. Zobe raced after both of us, barking.

  Mom wheeled Beth into the kitchen, shaking her head. “What is going on in here?”

  “Merry Christmas!” I said, crushing her in a hug. Then I knelt down and said good morning to Beth.

  “Can you keep it quiet down there?” Grandpa called from upstairs. “It’s still the middle of the night!”

  “Oh, don’t be a scrooge!” Grandma yelled back.

  Dad nodded to Jim. “If you make us pancakes, I’ll let everyone open one present after breakfast.”

  Jim made a fist pump. “Yes! Pancakes coming up!”

  So we ate pancakes, and each opened one present (mine was a WNBA T-shirt from Dad), and then we helped Mom and Dad get ready for Christmas dinner. By the time Uncle Danny rang the doorbell, the dining room table was set and the house smelled like Dad’s lasagna.

  Uncle Danny had a pan of chicken parm, and Aunt Jess held bags of presents. My little twin cousins, Michael and Olivia, ran past her.

  “Where’s Zobe? Where’s Zobe?” they chanted.

  “We might be able to let Zobe hang up here with us if we’re all calm,” I told them. “If not, he’ll have to go downstairs.”

  “We’ll be calm,” Olivia promised, with a very serious look on her face.

  I kept an eye on my cousins as they pet Zobe, but once present-opening time came around, they completely ignored him. I had to admit I was starting to feel excited too, even though I knew what to expect.

  Grandma always gave me really girly clothes, even though she’s never seen me wear them. This year was no different. I pulled a flowery skirt and a blouse with ruffles out of the gift bag.

  “Thanks, Grandma,” I said. I held the skirt up to me, and it was so short—way above my knees! That’s usually what happened when Grandma gave me clothes, but she meant well.

  I looked at Mom and she nodded, and I knew I’d do what I did every year—I’d give them to Avery. She likes flowers and ruffles just fine.

  Uncle Danny and Aunt Jess gave me basketball shoes, like they do every year. I opened the box, hoping maybe they’d done something different this time, knowing I’d quit the team. But inside were a super-sweet pair of black basketball shoes with green stripes. I had begged Mom to get them for me for months, when I was still playing basketball.

  “We know you quit the team, Elle,” Aunt Jess said apologetically. “But we figured you still like playing for fun, right?”

  I thought about that. I don’t think I had even played a game of pickup since I’d joined volleyball. But I nodded. “Sure.”

  “Besides, you might change your mind,” Uncle Danny said. “I mean, somebody with your talent and your height shouldn’t throw away a basketball career, Elle.”

  I felt my face get hot. That expectation of me—that I was destined to pl
ay basketball just because I was tall and good at it—wasn’t gone now that I’d quit.

  “Well, I really like being on the volleyball team,” I said.

  Uncle Danny shook his head. “Come on, Elle. I mean, volleyball? Basketball’s a more serious sport, don’t you think?”

  “Danny,” Dad said in a warning tone.

  “I don’t know. Volleyball takes a lot of training,” I said. And I’m learning how to play all the different positions.”

  “But it’s not basketball,” Uncle Danny said.

  Aunt Jess put a hand on his arm. “Elle should do whatever makes her happy, Danny,” she said, and she smiled at me. “I hope you like the shoes.”

  “I love them!” I said, which was true. They were some of the coolest basketball shoes out there. I gave her a hug, and Uncle Danny, too, even though I was kind of mad at him for getting on my case about not playing basketball.

  Then I went upstairs and got down my gifts for everyone—I’d kept my presents in my closet, not under the tree, so Zobe wouldn’t eat them.

  I handed out the presents I’d gotten them, eager to see their reactions.

  “This is too pretty to eat!” Mom exclaimed, holding up her chocolate butterfly.

  Jim grinned when he saw his chocolate football. “Awesome. Much better than a flashlight pen. Thanks, Elle.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him.

  “Elle, why don’t you take Zobe for a walk before dinner?” Mom suggested.

  I jumped up from the living room floor. “Sure!”

  Soon Zobe and I were outside, making our way to the park near our house. I glanced at Amanda’s yellow house, which was right across the street from the park. The lights were on inside, and I saw some people gathered around her Christmas tree, but I didn’t see her. That bummed me out a little bit. I was hoping to run into her.

  “Jingle Elle, jingle Elle, jingle all the way . . .”

  I heard singing behind me and turned to see Amanda, wearing a silly elf hat, walking her dog, Freckles.

  “Jingle Elle?” I groaned.

  “Well, I saw you there, and then it struck me that your name rhymes with ‘bell,’ ” she said. “And lots of Christmas songs have bells in the name.”

  “Oh no,” I groaned. I knew what was coming.