Chapter 26 Team Building （The Reprise）
TWENTY SIX
Team Building (The Reprise)
April
Jax was already at the scoring console by the time she crossed the threshold, fingers hovering over the touchscreen. He pressed something. The lane lighting rippled through a rainbow sequence.
"Jax," Killian said.
"I'm mapping the interface."
Caleb appeared beside Jax, leaning over his shoulder. "What does this one do?"
"Disco mode, probably."
Caleb pressed it.
The entire bowling alley erupted in strobing lights and what sounded like 80s synth music.
"Found it," Caleb said cheerfully.
Arthur reached past both of them and pressed something that restored normal lighting and blessed silence.
"Can we bowl?" April asked.
Jax pressed more buttons and the scoring screens flickered to life, massive displays above each lane showing digital score sheets with player name fields. Arthur had found the shoe rack and was already assessing sizes. He handed her a pair that fit perfectly.
Balls were tested for weight and grip. The scoring screen showed nine empty name fields.
Jiro appeared beside April; he watched her face with that particular quiet attention that meant he was tracking whether she was actually okay with this sudden pivot.
She smiled at him. "I'm good."
"Good.” He stayed close.
"April goes first," Mateo said.
"Agreed," Arthur said, typing "APRIL" into the first slot on lane one's screen.
As April passed him to bowl, Arthur touched her lower back and kissed the crown of her head. She stepped up to the line. She could feel them watching. She rolled.
The ball curved gently left, clipped three pins, and sent them scattering with a satisfying crack.
"Nice!" Caleb said, grinning.
"Clean approach," Arthur observed.
Jax nodded approvingly. "You curved it on purpose."
"I absolutely did not."
Mateo's smile was warm. "Even better."
April turned to find all of them watching her: Caleb's open delight, Dante's almost-smile, Jiro's quiet pride.
Killian's eyes were soft. "Again."
She rolled again. Got two more. Five total.
The screen updated automatically, APRIL: 5, with a little animation of falling pins.
"Respectable," Arthur said, which April was learning to recognize as high praise.
"I'm going to have unrealistic expectations of my athletic performance now," she informed them.
Caleb bowled with a running start and a spin move that absolutely did not help, sent the ball straight into the gutter, and immediately blamed "lane conditions." Liam stepped up with zero fanfare and bowled a strike so clean it looked computer-generated.
"Show-off," Caleb muttered.
"Competence isn't showing off," Liam replied.
Jax got a strike with the precision of someone who'd calculated angles before rolling.
Mateo materialized beside April with a bottle of water and what looked like fancy crackers from somewhere. "You'll need fuel," he said, pressing both into her hands.
"It's bowling," April said.
"Exactly. Athleticism."
His turn came and he bowled with his eyes half-closed, got eight pins somehow, and claimed it was "muscle memory from bocce," refusing to elaborate.
Jiro took his turn with the same quiet focus he brought to everything, rolled a spare, and sat back down next to April without comment.
Dante bowled a strike with the controlled precision of a man who'd absolutely practiced this in private and would deny it if asked.
Then Killian stepped up.
April watched him select a ball, the way he tested the weight, the slight squaring of his shoulders like he was about to enter a boardroom negotiation.
He lined up. Released.
The ball rolled for exactly three feet, then veered hard into the gutter like it had accepted a compelling business proposal from the edge of the lane.
Killian stared at the empty lane. The screen updated: KILLIAN: 0.
"Huh," he said.
Behind her, April heard Jax make a small, strangled sound.
"Equipment malfunction," Killian said flatly.
"The ball's not broken," Arthur observed.
"Perhaps the lane—"
"Also not broken."
Killian retrieved his ball from the return with the dignity of a man who'd just had a merger fall through, stepped back up, and rolled again.
This one made it almost to the pins before curving gently into the opposite gutter.
The silence was deafening. The screen still read: KILLIAN: 0.
"Oh my god," Caleb said. "You're bad at this."
"I'm—" Killian stopped. "It's not my primary recreational focus."
"You have a bowling alley in your house," Jax pointed out.
"It came with the house."
"You're terrible," Mateo said, warmth in his voice.
Killian turned to look at April. His composure slipped at the edges. "I'm terrible," he confirmed.
April felt her smile spreading. "You're so terrible."
"Yes."
The game continued. Mateo kept appearing at her elbow with water until Liam's voice cut through: "Mateo. We can all look after April. Enjoy yourself."
Mateo blinked. Looked at the water bottle in his hand. At April. At Liam.
"Point taken."
He set the water down and actually went to bowl his turn instead of immediately returning to host mode.
April caught Liam's eye. He gave her the smallest nod.
A mechanical whir. The guards rose smoothly from both gutters.
"Absolutely not," Killian said.
"Strategically necessary," Arthur said.
"I don't need—"
"You do," Liam added calmly.
Killian looked at April. She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh.
"This is for the group," Caleb said solemnly. "We can't watch you suffer."
"I'm not suffering—"
"We are," Jax said. "Emotionally."
Mateo had returned to the group, looking more relaxed than he had all game. "Bumpers are a kindness."
Dante lifted his coffee in a small salute. "Accept the assistance, Blackwood."
Killian stared at the bumpers. At the group. At April, who was definitely failing to hide her smile now.
"Fine.”
Killian bowled again. The ball bounced off one bumper, careened across the lane, bounced off the other bumper, and somehow knocked down six pins.
The room burst into cheers.
"THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!" Caleb said.
"Bumper king," Jax added.
Killian looked at the pins. At the bumpers. At the ridiculous display of celebration happening behind him. Then he smiled for a second before his expression returned to that controlled corporate calm.
But April saw it. And from the way Jiro's hand squeezed her shoulder gently, he'd seen it too.
"Last round," Arthur announced eventually.
April stepped up to lane two, the non-bumper lane, for what everyone seemed to agree was the ceremonial final roll.
She bowled.
Strike.
The reaction was immediate. Caleb practically bounced over and kissed the side of her head. "Knew you had it in you," he said proudly. Jax slow-clapped, Mateo looked quietly proud, and Dante said, "That's my girl," soft enough that April almost missed it.
Almost.
They migrated toward the seating area, energy shifting from active to comfortable. Caleb was still narrating highlight reels. Jax had given up on the controls. Mateo's shoulders were loose.
April sank onto one of the benches, still warm from laughing, and Liam settled beside her without a word.
"You good?" he asked quietly.
"So good," she said, bumping his shoulder with hers.
"Movie?" Mateo asked, already gently herding people toward the door.