Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
“ W here are you headed?” Fern is leaning partly in my bathroom doorway, watching as I brush my mascara wand across my eyelashes. She’s dressed like she’s in for the night, but I imagine that as soon as I leave here, Brett will probably be over.
“I’m going out on a double date tonight with Chelsea. We’re going bowling.”
Fern nods approvingly. “That sounds fun. Which bowling alley are you going to?”
“I honestly have no idea,” I say with a shrug. “Chelsea is the one who planned everything, and she’s picking me up tonight, so I didn’t bother to ask. We’re meeting the guys at the bowling alley, and then we’re going to have drinks and food there.”
“Are you going anywhere after the bowling alley?”
All these questions. It’s like living at home again. I turn toward Fern and look her in the eye. “Why are you so interested in my whereabouts?”
“Geez, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because the last time you went out you didn’t come home, and I didn’t hear from you until you came stumbling in the next morning?” She’s grinning, but there’s also a seriousness in her gaze.
“First of all, there was no stumbling. I was perfectly coherent. And second, I understand your concern, and I promise there will be none of that tonight. I’d be all right if I never had another one-night stand.” I turn back toward the mirror and give my hair one last fluff before sliding past Fern to grab my phone from my bed.
She turns so she’s facing me again and leans up against the doorjamb. “Why no more one-night stands? I thought yours wasn’t a bad time.”
“It wasn’t a bad time, but I think I did it more to prove to myself that I could move on from Alain. In a way, I think it helped, but I want more from a guy than just a one-time deal.”
The fact that I’m sharing all of this with Fern proves just how much our relationship has progressed in the time that we’ve been living together. A year ago, we wanted nothing to do with one another, and there was no way in hell I would’ve told her anything about my love life. There was always this underlying fear that somehow, she would use it against me. And even growing up we were never close. Honestly, I was shocked she asked me to move in with her, and I definitely didn’t make it easy on her at first. But since living with her, we’ve grown fairly close, and I see her as more of an ally than an enemy.
Fern nods and peels herself off the doorjamb. “That makes sense, and I hope tonight goes well for you.”
“What about you? Is Brett coming over tonight?”
“He’s on his way over now. We’re staying in tonight to watch a movie, and we’ll probably order pizza.”
“Yeah? You going to do anything else tonight?” I ask with a wink.
Fern’s cheeks redden, and her gaze drops to the floor. “Maybe.”
“Well, I’ll make sure to send you a courtesy text when I’m on my way home so I don’t walk in on you two.”
“I’d appreciate that,” she says. “I’ll leave you to finish getting ready. What time is Chelsea supposed to be here?”
“Should be any minute now,” I say, looking down at my phone for the time. While my screen is on, an incoming text pops up. “Actually, that’s her now. She’s parked on the street, waiting for me.”
Fern exits my bedroom out into the hallway, and I follow behind with my phone in hand. I don’t have to take a purse tonight because my phone case has slots for my driver’s license and a couple of credit cards. I don’t like using this case all the time because I have a habit of leaving my phone everywhere, but I like using it when I go out so I don’t have to keep track of a purse.
“Have fun tonight,” Fern says. She’s already sprawled out on the living room couch with her phone in hand, probably getting ready to text Brett to tell him the coast is clear. In the time that I was getting ready, she managed to put out a spread of snacks on the coffee table for their movie night. On my way out, I nab a few candy-coated chocolates from one of the bowls. She tries to smack my hand, but I’m too quick and pull my hand away before hers makes contact. I flash her a grin as I pop the candies into my mouth.
“I’ll send you a text once I know what bowling alley we’re going to,” I say. It’s the least I can do after the hell I put her through the last time I went out. I didn’t realize she’d worry so much. “And I’ll make sure to let you know once I’m on my way back.”
“Okay, now hurry up and get out of here before Chelsea starts honking.”
I shut the door behind me and head down the steps to where Chelsea is waiting for me. She’s in her luxury sports car which is most certainly not the same car she’s been driving since high school. Her dad bought her this car when she graduated college even though there was nothing wrong with the car she’d been driving. It’s not the first time she’s received such a lavish gift from her father. She’s been receiving gifts like this car all her life. It’s her father’s way of compensating for the fact that he’s been absent most of her life. Her father lives in San Francisco with his new wife and replacement children, as Chelsea calls them. The last time she saw her father was when he walked out on her and her mom when she was six.
Growing up, I used to be jealous of Chelsea because of all the fancy gifts she’d receive. And she was an only child so she didn’t have to share any of her stuff, and she sure as heck didn’t have to wear any hand-me-down clothes. But then I matured a little (okay, a lot), and realized that having two parents who were still very much in love was a far better gift than anything from a store.
I open the car door where the dome light illuminates Chelsea’s face. “Hey, there. Thanks for picking me up.”
“Hurry up and get in,” she says impatiently.
I plop down onto the passenger seat, and I’m not even buckled before she’s pulling away from the curb. “What’s your hurry?”
“I guess the guys are already at the bowling alley even though we agreed that we’d meet at seven-thirty.”
“Have they been at the bowling alley long?” It’s only ten after seven, so if they just got there, then they won’t have to wait long.
“They got there right around seven. I didn’t bother texting you because I was already on my way out the door to pick you up, and I was mad that they were there so early. I mean, who does that? Who shows up to a date a half hour early?”
“Maybe they thought traffic was going to be worse than it was, so they allowed for a lot more time than they needed.” As Chelsea drives, I notice that we’re headed toward State Route 520 which means we’re headed out of the city. “Where are we going anyway? Fern asked, and I realized you never told me what bowling alley we’re going to.”
“We’re going to Crossroads Bowling in Bellevue. And if traffic cooperates, we should be there in about twenty minutes.”
Traffic doesn’t cooperate, and instead of it taking us twenty minutes to get to the bowling alley, it takes us thirty, which is still pretty good considering Chelsea had to take a whole bunch of surface streets to get here. While we were stuck in traffic, she had me text the guys and tell them that we were going to be late. She didn’t want them to think we stood them up and leave without us ever getting the chance to meet.
Chelsea and I walk inside the bowling alley and find the shoe rental area. I scan the crowd with my gaze and wonder which of these men in here are our dates. Maybe it’s the two guys on the first lane who are trying to outdo one another with the most ridiculous ways to get the ball down the lane. They’re cute though, and at least these guys would be fun to be around.
Or our dates could be the two guys on one of the middle lanes that are chatting with a couple of girls because maybe they thought we weren’t going to show after all. But these two are definitely not our guys—or at least I hope not—because one of the girls just planted a kiss on the guy standing next to her.
As I scan farther down, I don’t see anyone that could be our dates. Except…no. Please tell me those two are not our dates. All the way down on the end lane are two guys who are dressed in competitive bowling attire, and it looks like they brought their own shoes since they’re not the same ones everyone else is wearing. They’re down there fist pumping every time one of them gets a strike. The taller one is up now and…oh, my God…he just kissed his ball before sending it down the lane.
We grab our rental shoes from the counter and find a spot to put them on. The lights are dim in this place, but the music is on point with a nice selection of both current and older pop hits. There’s a full bar which will come in handy if this date takes a turn for the worse.
“Did you text the guys to let them know we’re here?” I ask while lacing up my shoes.
“I just did. I told them that we’re over here putting our shoes on and they’re supposed to be by soon.” Somehow Chelsea manages to look fashionable in her bowling shoes while I feel like I’m wearing clown shoes. I know it’s all in my head, but I swear my feet feel like they’re two sizes too big in these shoes.
“Do these two look like our guys?” I ask, nodding toward two guys headed our way.
Her head turns toward the direction I’m facing, and initially, there’s excitement on her face. Then, just as quickly, that excitement is erased and replaced with dread. “Oh, no,” is all she manages to get out.
“Whose idea was it to go bowling?”
“His,” she groans.
Soon, we’re face-to-face with the two guys in competitive bowling gear. “Hi, I’m Ryder, and this is my roommate, Ian.”
I stand up first and stick my hand out to greet them because Chelsea can’t seem to move. Ryder, the one Chelsea must’ve been speaking to beforehand isn’t bad looking, but the bowling jersey with his name on it that’s plastered with all sorts of corporate sponsors is very distracting. Ryder shakes my hand, and I move my hand in front of Ian to shake his, but he’s not taking me up on it. In fact, Ian is totally ignoring me altogether, and if it weren’t for Ryder elbowing him in the side, I’d probably still be standing here with my hand out. Ian reluctantly takes my hand in his and gives me the worst limp-noodle handshake I’ve ever had. I’m pretty sure my handshake is stronger than his. This should be fun. “I’m Dahlia, and I believe you and my friend Chelsea have talked already.”
Chelsea, finally regaining her composure, stands from her seat and takes on the persona I knew was in there the whole time. It’s the look she gets when she’s going to take a shit situation and turn it into a good one. Her dread is replaced with a beaming smile, and she flicks her hair behind her shoulder and touches Ryder’s arm. “I’m so sorry we were late. Traffic was a nightmare. I hope you weren’t too bored while you were waiting.”
“Nonsense. It gave Ian and me a chance to practice our game. We’re competitive bowlers,” Ryder says, plucking his jersey, drawing our attention to it.
“You don’t say,” I say to myself, but apparently, I wasn’t quiet enough because Ian glares in my direction.
“Did you guys visit the bar yet?” Chelsea asks as we make our way to the end lane where they were playing before.
“No, and we don’t plan on it. Drinking while bowling is hazardous to our game. This isn’t just a hobby for us. It’s serious business,” Ian says, staring in my direction.
I look away from him and seek out the bar because if no one else is going to get a drink, then I’ll go alone. “I’m going to go grab a beer because drinking while bowling is great for my game. In fact, I think alcohol might even help me beat the two of you.” Ian rolls his eyes while Ryder chuckles at my retort. I know I’m totally going to suck at bowling tonight, but I’m determined to at least have some fun while doing it. “Chelsea, are you coming with me, or do you want me to grab you something?”
Chelsea looks up at Ryder, then back at me. “I think I’m going to pass on any alcohol tonight. I don’t want to drink if Ryder isn’t. Maybe I’ll get a soda or something like that later when we get food.”
“Suit yourself,” I reply, then leave the group and head straight to the bar. I order the tallest beer they have and take it back to the lane with me.
When I get back to the lane, Ryder is taking Chelsea through some pre-bowling stretches and exercises. Ian looks like he’s going through his own warm-up routine because he’s touching his toes, then reaching for the sky and wiggling his fingers. I really wish I was on my second drink because this is excruciating to watch.
“You should really stretch before we get started,” Ian says. He spreads his arms and legs out, then touches one hand to the opposite leg, doing windmills like I used to do in elementary school.
I pick up my beer and take a sip, staying seated while I wait for everyone to finish up. “I’m doing enough stretching just by drinking this beer.”
I don’t know why they’re stretching so much. It’s not like this is an actual competition, and I would think that since they were playing before we got here, they should be plenty warmed up.
“Is everyone ready to start?” Ryder asks. All of us either nod or say yes. “Okay, I think we should play as pairs. Ian and Dahlia are a pair, and Chelsea and I will be a pair.”
“That’s a great idea,” Chelsea says. “I think Ian and Dahlia should go first.”
I gesture for Ian to go before me, but he shakes his head and says, “Ladies first.”
I grab the bowling ball and walk to the lane with it. I’m just about ready to let it go when Ian grabs the ball and twists it while my fingers are still in the holes. “What are you doing?” I snarl.
Ian throws me a look like he’s offended that I would question his movements. “You were holding the ball wrong. You would’ve sent the ball straight into the gutter holding it like that.”
Funny, because I thought I was holding the ball just fine. The way he has me holding it feels uncomfortable. “But this feels really awkward to me.”
“Trust me,” he says. Of course I don’t trust him. I just met him. Why would I trust him so soon?
I position my feet and pull my arm back, then forward, releasing the ball as I do so. As the ball travels down the lane, it teeters dangerously close to the gutter, narrowly avoiding it. The ball makes contact with six pins, knocking down five right away, then the sixth takes its time, wiggling and moving, until it finally topples over.
“Not bad,” I say, then reach for another ball.
“Not bad? That was terrible,” Ian says. “Not bad is knocking at least eight pins down, then taking the other two on your next turn. I really hope you can get a spare out of this.”
I look around at Chelsea and Ryder to see if they heard Ian’s harsh remarks, but the two of them are off in their own little world talking to one another. Ignoring Ian, I pick up another ball and send it down the lane. It misses all four remaining pins. All in all, despite what Ian said, I don’t think I did too badly since I haven’t played in years.
Ian grabs his own personal bowling ball and stands at the front of the lane. He turns toward me and says, “Your feet were wrong on that last throw. That’s why you missed all the pins. Watch where I’m standing and how I’m holding the ball.”
I pretend to care about what he’s showing me and watch as he takes his shot. He throws his ball, and it goes down the lane, hitting all the pins in the process. A strike.
“And that’s how it’s done,” Ian says with a smug smile on his face.
Great. What a fun time this is.
We lost. Ian and I lost to Chelsea and Ryder, and it wasn’t even close. I never got a strike and only got a couple spares. The rest of the time it was me knocking down only a handful of pins each time. Ian spent the moments he wasn’t playing telling me how I should stand, throw the ball, and how everything I did was wrong. Ian got almost all strikes, but that wasn’t enough to offset my terrible score. I’m surprised at how well Chelsea did. I never knew she could bowl so well.
While Chelsea and Ryder are at the bar getting something, probably non-alcoholic, to drink, Ian sidles up to me. “I told you drinking while bowling wasn’t a good idea,” he says. “You didn’t take it seriously enough. And you didn’t listen to or implement a single thing I said. I was trying to help you.”
“Oh, is that what you were trying to do? I’m sorry. I guess I had it all wrong. The whole time I thought you were trying to belittle me, and show me what a great bowler you are, and how you know so much more than I do.” I don’t sugarcoat my annoyance at his behavior. I’ve been humiliated plenty of times, but I’ve never had someone I just met treat me so terribly in front of my friend.
This was supposed to be a fun time, something to take my mind off Justin, but all this date has done is make me realize that finding someone else is going to be a lot harder than I thought. I didn’t think my date tonight would amount to much, but it would’ve been nice to leave here wanting to see the guy again. Instead, I’d be happy if I never saw Ian ever again, not even in passing on the street or in the grocery store.
Ian’s harsh expression softens. “Look, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. It’s just that bowling is really important to me, and I can get a little carried away sometimes. If you want to play again, I promise I won’t say anything, and we can just have fun.”
So there is a heart in that uptight body of his after all. Okay, maybe if I ever see Ian outside of here, I could spare a hello. And I suppose if I was feeling generous that day, I could smile at him.
“I appreciate that, but I think I’m done bowling for the night,” I say, a hint of a smile tugging at my lips. “I could go for some food though. You hungry?” It’s my way of salvaging this night. Maybe if I can get him away from the lanes and over to where they serve the food, we can talk about something other than bowling. Maybe we’ll find something in common with one another and can bond over that.
Ian hesitates, probably weighing the two options in his mind. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry. I’m going to go bowl some more,” he says, then vacates the area.
And that’s my cue to leave.
Across the bowling alley I spot Chelsea with Ryder. They’re standing at a table with a couple of sodas in front of them. I walk over to where they are and get Chelsea’s attention. I direct her away from Ryder, far enough so he won’t overhear what we’re saying.
“I’m ready to go,” I say.
Chelsea looks confused, like she can’t understand why I would want to leave. “Already? But I thought we could get some food and play another game.”
I shake my head. “Not happening. It’s time to go now.”
“But why? I thought you were having a good time.”
“You think getting yelled at and critiqued is a good time? Maybe what you should be asking yourself is why you didn’t stick up for me once.”
“I’m sorry. I was talking with Ryder most of the time and didn’t realize Ian was being so nasty.”
I cock my head to the side. “You seriously had no idea what was going on?”
“I could only hear bits and pieces of what was being said. But we’re sticking together tonight. If you’re ready to go, then I’ll go tell Ryder and we can be on our way.”
“Yeah, I’m ready to go,” I say with a nod. “I’ll wait outside for you.” I don’t bother saying goodbye to Ryder or Ian and return my rental shoes, then wait outside for Chelsea. Minutes later, she’s back by my side.
“Hey, you wouldn’t be interested in going to a bowling tournament next weekend, would you?” she asks, a hopeful expression on her face. I stare blankly back because I don’t want to think about bowling for a very long time. “Ian will be competing in it too,” she adds, as though that piece of information would sway me into going. It has just the opposite effect.
“You’re on your own on this one. And in case things don’t work out with Ryder and you end up finding someone else on that dating app of yours, don’t ask me to double date.”