kinda heavy,” my friend says, tapping her finger on the 11 etched into the ball.
“It’s fucking eleven pounds. That’s like a cat!” I reach for the ball as she laughs at my comparison.
“You’re not throwing a cat down the lane, Abby.”
I glare at her while I poke my fingers awkwardly in the holes. They’re enormous, and too far apart.
“I know I’m not throwing a fucking cat at pins, June. That would be cruel.”
Her eyes widen as she glares at my hand along the smooth surface. Her mouth pops open, but before she can talk me out of it, I drop the ball on the return with a clunk and brush my hands off on one another, determined to throw the eleven-pounder.
“I’m using yours. Thanks,” I say, taking the seat next to Tory. He gets up the second I sit.
“Are you seriously that appalled by my ball selection?” I shoot my question at him, but he keeps walking toward the balls to pick his own.
This vibe is strange, as if I’ve walked in mid-fight, or to an intervention that’s not quite fully started. What the f—?
June slips into the seat Tory just vacated and types on the keyboard, changing Lucas’s name to Princess. I smirk and puff out a laugh.
“Funny, right?” she says, pushing enter just before the boys come back with their balls.
Tory goes first, stepping up on the smooth wooden floor and positioning his feet with this super serious stance. He holds the ball in front of his body, lining it up, then takes three quick steps toward the pins, launching the ball down the lane dead center. Pins explode at the other end, leaving one standing on either side.
“Nice!” I say as he walks back toward us.
“It’s a seven-ten split. Nothing nice about that,” he huffs.
I shrug and glance to June, not knowing what the hell is so wrong with what I just said.
“It’s really hard to knock both of those down now at once,” June explains in a whisper.
I look back up to Tory as he stands with his hand hovering over the stream of air blowing from a vent on the ball return.
“Don’t choke,” I say just before his ball appears on the rack. He only offers me a sideways glance.
“I love when you two give each other shit,” Hayden says, stepping up behind me and running his palms along my shoulders, then squeezing gently.
“Yeah, don’t choke, bro!” Hayden tacks on. Tory’s feet stop short of the arrows on the floor and his hand holding the ball lowers to his hip as he turns and looks at his brother, his head leaning to the side. Hayden bends down and rests his chin on my head, wrapping his arms around my neck and shoulders completely. Tory’s body quakes with a short laugh.
“Fifty bucks says I nail it,” Tory says. Even though he’s talking to his brother, his eyes are on me, almost as if he wants me to take the bet. Hayden’s arms relax and unwind from around me as he stands tall and pulls out his wallet.
“I’ve got twenty,” he says to his brother.
Tory’s mouth ticks up on one side. “So, you’ll owe me thirty.”
The pregnant pause as they dare each other is filled with the pumping beat of the pop music on the Eight Lanes’ sound system.
“Deal,” Hayden says.
Tory nods in agreement, and their little rivalry is sealed.
“He’s going to blow it.” Hayden’s voice carries over my shoulder.
I lean in, resting my elbows and palms on the small counter in front of me, suddenly not sure whether I’m rooting for Tory to succeed or fail. He rolls his shoulders and positions the ball in front of him, just as he did before, only his body is lined up on the far right side of the lane. My gut knots as he begins his approach, and all I can envision is his ball roaring angrily down the right gutter.
I hold my breath with his release, a mixture of hexes and hopes coming from everyone else.
“Do it, Dude! Do it!” Lucas shouts as Tory’s ball teeters along the very edge of the lane, practically skating without spin as it heads toward the single pin on the right.
“No way it kicks around. Not enough juice, bro. Not enough—” Hayden’s curse is cut off by the flinging pin that strikes into and takes out its twin on the far side of the lane.
“Yes!” June and I both say together. I guess I was rooting for Tory to make it.