“Without even knowing if he’s interested in you or not?” I glanced at her and caught her looking in the direction of the main doors. Probably imagining Morik sitting out there waiting.
“You bet. How else will you find out?” She didn’t wait for my answer. “So you won’t be mad if I try?”
“Not a bit. Just be careful, okay?”
She nodded and pushed away from my locker. “I’ll see you outside.”
I watched her grab her own coat and head toward the doors, envying her confidence.
Not wanting to be a witness to whatever happened, I took my time getting the rest of my books together. The halls started to empty around me. Glancing at the clock, I joined the stragglers migrating toward the exit.
Outside, the sun shone brightly. Beatriz stood by the motor cycle talking to Morik. Morik’s eyes found me. Until I walked out the door, he’d been watching her. Beatriz saw his attention wander and looked in my direction. She waved to him and met me halfway.
“You’re right. Weird rules, but what a kiss.” She grinned and added, “Too bad it’s the only one I’ll get.”
Before I could question her, Morik started his motorcycle and she hurried off to catch her ride. Without a word, he handed me the helmet. I climbed on. He pulled out of the parking lot the second I wrapped my arms around him. His arms were stiff and under my embrace, his stomach tense. Did Beatriz’s kiss upset him? It made me smile, but only for a moment before it faded. What if he didn’t like kissing in general?
Instead of turning to go home, he turned toward downtown. There wasn’t much downtown, a few shops, restaurants, a church, a couple of bars. We drove for another few minutes, my curiosity growing.
He slowed and pulled into the parking lot for the bowling alley. I waited until he turned off the bike before flipping up the visor.
“What are we doing here?” I asked loosening my hold on his waist.
“We are going to bowl.” Humor laced his voice. He reached out a hand to steady me as I climbed off the back.
Bowling. A hazy picture of birthday hats and pizza mixed in with memories of using two hands to push the ball down the alley. Definitely a happy memory from long ago. Curiosity piqued, I wanted to see if it was as fun as I remembered it.
Standing by the motorcycle, I pulled off the helmet. He tucked it under his arm and we walked side by side to the entrance.
The sound of crashing pins and the bing of pinball machines greeted us when we walked through the second set of glass doors. Following Morik, we both exchanged our street shoes for bowling shoes at the counter. I moved to our assigned lane to put on the shoes and pick a ball. Morik stood at the counter for an extra moment talking to the cashier.
An assortment of bowling balls lined the back wall of the alley creating a dotted rainbow of color. While I waited for him to tie his shoes, I managed to find the perfect ball. From afar, it appeared to be a solid vivid orange. However, looking closer, silver flecks spiraled in a random pattern around the ball. It reminded me of the color of his eyes when he was upset.
He didn’t say anything when I placed my ball on the ball return next to the dark blue one already waiting there. Anchored plastic chairs surrounded the score monitor in a horseshoe leaving the space toward the alley open. Above our lane, the score projector showed I would play first.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go first?” The bowling alley though not packed still had a steady flow of customers. With the screen above the lane, everyone would see how well, or poorly I did. I wasn’t even sure I could roll the ball in one hand like the people around me.
A few lanes down I spotted a youth squatting to push the ball down the lane with two hands as I remembered doing. As I watched, the ball bounced of a side rail that I hadn’t noticed. I looked up at his score projector and saw a note for bumpers. Was it too late to ask for those?
Morik laughed and snagged one of my fingers tugging me toward him. Having finished tying his shoes, he sat in one of the surrounding chairs watching me as I looked around. “I’m beginning to see that Beatriz is right. You don’t remember how to have fun, do you?”
I rolled my eyes not bothering to comment and he let me go so I could retrieve my ball. The holes in the ball were snug on my fingers and I worried that they might get stuck. So I picked up the ball using both hands with my middle and ring fingers inserted just between the first and second knuckle. The image of me sliding down the alley still attached to the ball had me doubting the wisdom of using the holes at all.
My palms started to sweat and I mentally scolded myself. I had more issues than I could count. There was no way I would add a bowling phobia to the list.