A Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Chapter Seven: Part 2

“What was the urgent part about me meeting you here, again?” I asked as Jason, Hunter, and I stepped into the semi-creepy bowling alley. There were black lights ‘illuminating’ the smokey setting and anyone wearing light colors were like glowing blue-ish purple dots in the background of black. I looked down at my own dude apparel. My grey socks glowed dimly compared to the brightness of the white tennis shoes. No doubt that my hair (ehem, wig) was glowing too.

Jason turned and smiled at me, startling me with his incandescent teeth and eyes. Letting out a small yelp, I jumped backwards, accidentally bumping Hunter in the process.

“Watch it,” Said Hunter none too nicely. I rolled my eyes at him.

Really, what was with that guy?

“What?” Jason raised his voice over the crash of bowling ball against pins. “Do I have something in my teeth?”

I nodded, a smile growing on my face.

“What is it?” He asked, frowning at my smile.

“Enamel and Dentin,” We stepped past a group of teenage girls who smiled creepily at us. A shiver ran down my spine. They were like zombie barbies. 

“You’re weird,” Commented Jason.

“And proud of it. Now why are we here?”

Hunter spoke before his brother could, throwing me a cold glare with those soul penetrating eyes of his. “We’re throwing a surprise party for Cole.”

“It’s his birthday?” I queried, trudging along beside him. Did Cole ever tell me when his birthday was? I couldn’t remember. He would’ve told me if it had been that month, wouldn’t he have? Maybe not.

“It will be,” Hunter contorted his face into what may have been an attempt at a smile, but it turned out to me more of a grimace. It made me want to grimace back at him.

“When?”

“Two months.”

Two months. Really? Come on people. Do you not see the ‘What!?’ factor here? I could’ve been spending a perfectly awkward dinner with my and my best friend’s families, but no, I had to duped by an ‘urgent’ message telling me to meet Jason and Mr. I-get-ticked-off-by-everything at this creepy bowling alley. 

“Then why are we throwing the party now?” My voice was tinged with vexation.

“Because, he’ll never expect it,” Hunter answered in a ‘Duh’ tone.

“Are we having the party here?”

“No.”

“Then why are we here?”

“To get the stuff for the party. The owner let us keep it here.”

“Oh. Then where are we taking it?”

“Cole’s house.”

“Will he be there?”

“Of course not.”

“Are you sure?”

Hunter stopped and faced me, looking rather annoyed. “You’re annoying.”

“Thank you,” I smiled.

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“I’m going to think of it as one.”

“Well, don’t.”

“Too late.”

“Whatever,” He said offhandedly.

“Whatever,” I mimicked his tone. With that we fell into silence.

I don’t know what it was about that boy, but the two of us seemed to rub each other the wrong way. Really, we’d only seen on another twice and we like mortal enemies.

Looking around the bowling alley, I noticed that Jason had conveniently disappeared. Great. That meant I was stuck with Hunter. I hunched my shoulders and followed behind him through the dark room, past the counters, and back to some even darker hallways with few doors and lights. As we went, the crowd of people dwindled until it was only Hunter and I traversing the creepy corridor. The musty smell of...musty, old things was in the air, tickling my nose. 

Did I already mention how creepy it was?

The floorboards began to creak the farther we went. I watched Hunter’s back carefully. His shoulders were square, his back straight. He seemed tense. At least, to me. I’m not sure how anyone else would read his body language at that point. It was probably just that he was angry, or annoyed, but still, if he was tense, that made me tense. Feeling like something was going to jump out at me sent shivers up my spine. 

“So,” I broke the silence, startling myself in the process, “this place is...interesting.”

Then I shrieked as Hunter whirled on me all of a sudden, pinning me against the wall between his arms. His eyes blazed, his chest heaved. 

Okay, he’s definitely angry. I thought.

“Um, Hunter-” 

“Shut up,” he snapped.

Brows knitting, I stared up at the young man. Why was he pinning me? I opened my mouth to voice my question, but he grabbed the front of my shirt, slamming my back against the wall. A grunt of pain issued from my throat as I got over the momentary shock.

“Who are you?” Growled Hunter, his face merely inches from my own. He raised his hands, lifting my feet off the ground.

“Alex Jones,” I gasped. My hands worked frantically to loosen the fists balled in my shirt. He was choking me, though it may have being unknowingly.

Hunter’s eyes narrowed to slits, and he shook me. “I know Alex Jones, and you’re not him. So, let me reiterate: Who are you?”