The Summer I Became a Nerd - By Leah Rae Miller Page 0,50

seven pins. The scents of beer, nachos, and bowling ball wax meld into this one smell that, if it were a perfume, would be called Eau de Gutterball.

We rent a lane from a lady with big, almost white-blond hair and electric blue eye shadow, whose name tag says Barbie, then head over to the bowling balls. Vera is way more interested in trying to get her heart earrings from the claw machine so she darts over to it.

“Stay where I can see you, Veer!” Logan yells after her.

After picking out the perfect bowling balls (mine is pink and swirly, his is shiny and black), we set up at our lane. I take off my flip-flops and pause. No socks. Do they sell socks here? Is there a stocking vending machine somewhere?

I’m still staring at my pearly-pink painted toenails when Logan says, “I brought socks, just left them in the car. Could you, um…” He trails off and looks over at Vera.

I smile up at him. “I’ll go see if I can help her get those earrings.”

He sighs out the word, “Thanks,” then says, “I’ll be right back.”

When I walk up behind her, Vera growls at the metal claw as it opens to drop absolutely nothing down the slot.

“Did you get ‘em yet?” I ask.

“No.” She mashes a quarter into the machine and presses the forward arrow button. “I only have two quarters left after this…one…and…I almost have them!” The claw clamps down on the clear plastic egg that holds the earrings, but it’s not dead on so the egg slips out of its grasp. “Awww, man, this thing is cheating.” Her forehead drops to the glass as she watches the claw come back empty handed again.

“I have a trick for this. It’s better if you have a buddy watching from the side. I’ll stand over here and tell you when to stop going forward, and then you move it left or right.”

I have to drape myself over the jukebox next to the claw game in order to get a good view from the side. We almost get it on the next try, but the egg is just slightly out of line with the claw. It shoots over, putting itself in a prime spot for grabbing; wedged in a stuffed panda’s arms, big end up.

“We can do this, Veer. It’s perfect. Just concentrate.” I plaster my face to the glass. Who cares about germs when giant sparkly heart earrings are at stake?

She takes a deep breath and drops her last coin. The claw moves forward.

“Just a little more,” I say.

I catch my lip between my teeth as the claw lowers. It closes around the egg perfectly. We both gasp when the egg wobbles. It rolls to the side, through a gap in the metal prongs, and falls out of the claw. I think we’ve lost it and try to come up with something comforting to say to Vera, but then the egg bounces off the glass at an angle and careens down the winner shoot.

I jump up and down and squeal as Vera dives for the earrings, shouting, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” the whole time.

“Well, that was spectacular,” Logan says from behind us. “Give me a high five, Veer.” He holds his hand up high so she has to hop up to slap it. He holds his hand up to me, and I place my own against it. He laces his fingers with mine. “You’re cute, you know that?”

Later, when I’m lying in bed going over the day’s events, I’ll probably think of tons of different perfect responses to this, but right now, all I can think of is, “Thanks.”

We go back to our lane. Vera takes a seat so she can spend some time with her new earrings, and Logan hands me a pair of socks. They’re a pair of his soccer socks so when I put them on, the heels are almost sitting on the back of my calves, and they come up to the middle of my knees.

He chuckles. “Sorry. I guess I could have gotten some of Mom’s.”

“Don’t worry, I like them. Could be another one of my new fashion trends. Two-toned bowling shoes and oversized socks are so this season, don’t you think?” I pick up my ball and strike a pose.

He just continues laughing as he sets up the score board.

After a few frames, it’s clear neither of us is a pro, but who cares what the score is when you get to watch a cute