Breathe, Annie, Breathe
Page 37
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The ball veers sharply to the right. Gutter ball.
“I can’t believe you distracted me!” I snap, charging over to wait at the ball return.
He holds his palms up. “I never said I played fair.”
After he bowls his second strike of the night, he pumps his fist and I groan.
He doesn’t even look like a bowler. I wore khakis and a polo, because I like to dress the part, but he’s wearing a gray knitted cap and a white T-shirt. Cargo shorts hang off his hips. Slacker.
He took me to an alley where they do “Cosmic Bowling,” which basically means they light the place up with glow in the dark stars and burn incense. Cheesy, yeah, but my inner geek thinks it’s pretty awesome.
We’re on to the seventh frame. I lift my pink swirl ball and charge up to the lane. I hurl the ball as hard as I can and manage to knock down six pins. “Yessss.” Now, to see if I can make the spare.
Waiting for my ball to reappear, I notice the couple to our right. Both seem more interested in their phones than bowling—or each other, for that matter. I hate it when people do that. I glance over at Jeremiah. He’s busy wiping his bowling ball with a cloth like it’s his most prized possession.
My ball pops out of the chute. I take a deep breath before my turn. I’m gonna ace this spare.
“Don’t psych yourself out,” Jeremiah says from behind me.
I whip around and point at him. “Quiet, you!”
He drags fingers across his lips, closing his mouth with an imaginary zipper.
Okay. I get in the zone, aim, and roll the ball down the lane. I clasp my hands together and pray for the other four pins to fall. I knock three down easy, but the fourth rocks back and forth like a bobblehead. I jump up and down trying to knock the pin loose, but it rights itself. “Dammit, dammit, dammit!”
When I turn to face Jeremiah, his hands are folded behind his head and he has a smug smile on his face.
“I’m really starting to hate you,” I say.
“Who, me?”
“I’m a great bowler! I should be winning.”
“But you’re not.”
I flop down in the seat next to him behind the computer. “Why am I playing like crap tonight?”
“I don’t know. It’s just simple physics.”
“Just simple physics? You ass.”
He claps his hands once. “Well, it’s my turn.”
He leaps to his feet. As he’s prepping to bowl, I creep up behind him on tiptoes. He bites his lip, lifts the ball to his chest. And that’s when I charge at him and yell “Bugaboo!”
“Ahh!” he screams, but manages to throw the ball anyway. It sails down the lane and knocks seven pins over.
“Gah!” I exclaim, kneeling to the floor. “Why do you have to be so good at everything?”
He puts out a hand to help me up, pulling me to his chest. “Aren’t you glad we didn’t make a friendly wager on this game?”
That’s when I see them. Kyle’s best friend, Seth, and his girlfriend, Melanie.
They are three lanes down from us. Seth’s ball falls to his side when he sees I’m here with another guy, standing so close I can hear his breathing. Smell his soap.
I rush to step away from Jeremiah, tripping over my bowling shoes, and he gives me a weird look. Seth approaches me, focusing on something over my shoulder. Is he studying Jeremiah?
“How’s it going?” Seth asks.
“Not bad,” I say quietly. “You?”
He nods slowly. “Kyle’s parents told me you’re running a marathon. That’s really cool.”
“Thanks.”
“I kinda wish you’d told me. I would’ve started training to run it with you.”
I slip my hands into my back pockets, not knowing what to do with my hands. When I don’t respond, Seth says, “My mom was thinking about starting a collection for your marathon. Like, asking people to give a dollar for every mile you run and then donate the money to the fire department in Kyle’s name.”
I pinch the top of my nose and sniffle. It’s nice that people believe in me, but what if I don’t finish the race? I don’t want to let them down. Besides, this is something I’m doing for Kyle, not for anybody else. I guess it’s selfish that I want to keep this marathon all to myself. But it’s kind of like the last time I’ll be with Kyle—the last hurrah we never had.
Seth clears his throat. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around. I’ll be there to cheer you on. At the marathon.”
“I can’t believe you distracted me!” I snap, charging over to wait at the ball return.
He holds his palms up. “I never said I played fair.”
After he bowls his second strike of the night, he pumps his fist and I groan.
He doesn’t even look like a bowler. I wore khakis and a polo, because I like to dress the part, but he’s wearing a gray knitted cap and a white T-shirt. Cargo shorts hang off his hips. Slacker.
He took me to an alley where they do “Cosmic Bowling,” which basically means they light the place up with glow in the dark stars and burn incense. Cheesy, yeah, but my inner geek thinks it’s pretty awesome.
We’re on to the seventh frame. I lift my pink swirl ball and charge up to the lane. I hurl the ball as hard as I can and manage to knock down six pins. “Yessss.” Now, to see if I can make the spare.
Waiting for my ball to reappear, I notice the couple to our right. Both seem more interested in their phones than bowling—or each other, for that matter. I hate it when people do that. I glance over at Jeremiah. He’s busy wiping his bowling ball with a cloth like it’s his most prized possession.
My ball pops out of the chute. I take a deep breath before my turn. I’m gonna ace this spare.
“Don’t psych yourself out,” Jeremiah says from behind me.
I whip around and point at him. “Quiet, you!”
He drags fingers across his lips, closing his mouth with an imaginary zipper.
Okay. I get in the zone, aim, and roll the ball down the lane. I clasp my hands together and pray for the other four pins to fall. I knock three down easy, but the fourth rocks back and forth like a bobblehead. I jump up and down trying to knock the pin loose, but it rights itself. “Dammit, dammit, dammit!”
When I turn to face Jeremiah, his hands are folded behind his head and he has a smug smile on his face.
“I’m really starting to hate you,” I say.
“Who, me?”
“I’m a great bowler! I should be winning.”
“But you’re not.”
I flop down in the seat next to him behind the computer. “Why am I playing like crap tonight?”
“I don’t know. It’s just simple physics.”
“Just simple physics? You ass.”
He claps his hands once. “Well, it’s my turn.”
He leaps to his feet. As he’s prepping to bowl, I creep up behind him on tiptoes. He bites his lip, lifts the ball to his chest. And that’s when I charge at him and yell “Bugaboo!”
“Ahh!” he screams, but manages to throw the ball anyway. It sails down the lane and knocks seven pins over.
“Gah!” I exclaim, kneeling to the floor. “Why do you have to be so good at everything?”
He puts out a hand to help me up, pulling me to his chest. “Aren’t you glad we didn’t make a friendly wager on this game?”
That’s when I see them. Kyle’s best friend, Seth, and his girlfriend, Melanie.
They are three lanes down from us. Seth’s ball falls to his side when he sees I’m here with another guy, standing so close I can hear his breathing. Smell his soap.
I rush to step away from Jeremiah, tripping over my bowling shoes, and he gives me a weird look. Seth approaches me, focusing on something over my shoulder. Is he studying Jeremiah?
“How’s it going?” Seth asks.
“Not bad,” I say quietly. “You?”
He nods slowly. “Kyle’s parents told me you’re running a marathon. That’s really cool.”
“Thanks.”
“I kinda wish you’d told me. I would’ve started training to run it with you.”
I slip my hands into my back pockets, not knowing what to do with my hands. When I don’t respond, Seth says, “My mom was thinking about starting a collection for your marathon. Like, asking people to give a dollar for every mile you run and then donate the money to the fire department in Kyle’s name.”
I pinch the top of my nose and sniffle. It’s nice that people believe in me, but what if I don’t finish the race? I don’t want to let them down. Besides, this is something I’m doing for Kyle, not for anybody else. I guess it’s selfish that I want to keep this marathon all to myself. But it’s kind of like the last time I’ll be with Kyle—the last hurrah we never had.
Seth clears his throat. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around. I’ll be there to cheer you on. At the marathon.”
