Andrew holds the door open for me. He grins.
His smile is surprisingly disarming.
I slip into the alley, not at all surprised with what I see. Every one-off like this one has a shtick - something that makes them 'different' from the rest of the overly-hyped bowling alleys in the area.
This one is entirely orange.
Actually - correction - not just oranges, all fruit.
The lobby is, in fact, orange. There are stark, spidery white lines snaking up the walls and reaching for the ceiling.
The same lines creep along the floor.
The lobby is circular, with four equally-spaced hallways going off of it.
Those lines are dripping off the orange portions of the wall, clawing towards the circular front desk.
They come to an abrupt halt as they reach the desk.
The next thing I notice is the bored-looking girl in the orange t-shirt. She's fiddling with her phone beneath the desk, as if it's totally normal to be looking down at the floor with a stupid smile on her face.
I find myself curious about who she's texting.
Andrew walks up to her and says something I can't hear. He points toward the hallway closest to me.
The girl nods slowly, as if she doesn't really understand. She starts toward the hallway closest to me.
Andrew follows behind - motioning for me to come too.
The hallway she leads us into is a reddish sort of purple. There are intermittent yellow ovals speckling the walls. There's a loopy yellow phrase scrawled in a space that's seemingly short of ovals.
We're so BERRY glad you're here!
I cringe at how cheesy that is, but resolve to put it out of my mind. I'm not here to critique the decor of the alley.
The end of the hallway turns out to be another room - this time rectangular. There's a guy in a reddish-purple shirt dispensing shoes at one end, and lanes at the other.
The girl assigns us a lane and punches a few numbers into the machine on our corresponding table.
I watch as the bowling balls come out of the machine - they're all orange with those spidery white lines.
She sees me staring - I think - because she says
"Every lane gets assigned a different fruit. Orange is my favourite - so you guys are orange."
I nod. Maybe this won't be too terrible. At least they're shtick is somewhat original.
-
Andrew and I get our game going pretty quickly. Andrew's on his fourth turn when some kid behind me starts bawling.
I turn to look.
The little boy has a ruffled mop of brown hair. He's wearing jeans and a striped shirt. There are tears streaming down his face.
His mother is knelt beside him, seemingly trying to assure him that whatever happened is okay.
It's then that I notice the ice cream cone on the floor.
I empathize with the boy, remembering my own childhood - if any food-related item got dropped, I lost my mind.
With three older brothers, my food got dropped and/or stolen quite often.
One of the purple-shirted employees is speaking with the little boy's father - a reassuring smile on his face.
I'm actually starting to think that I've misjudged the character of this alley entirely.
The purple-shirted employee pulls his phone out of his pocket and makes a quick call. I assume that he's calling someone to come clean up the mess.
Two guys come in with cleaning supplies. They're both wearing lime-green shirts, similar to the one that the girl at the desk had been wearing. As the one guy passes me, I realize that the back of his shirt says
Partners in LIME
I start to grimace, but then I realize who I'm looking at.
The guy - who's now on the floor cleaning up the mess - is Beckett.
I smile despite myself.
------
Hey guys!!
It's been awhile! Sorry about that - I've tried three separate times to get a chapter together, and it hasn't been working for me. I was going BANANAS.
No matter - I've got one now!!
I managed to APPLE - y (get it? Like 'apply') some fruit-related puns, so it's even better than a regular chapter.
Am I the only one who finds this kinda cute? Or is it getting kind of sickeningly cliche?
Even if it is - TOO BAD, I'm enjoying this way too much to stop now.
Anyway - it's been GRAPE catching up (I'm sorry, I had to)
Emma
YOU ARE READING
At the Heart of it All
Short StoryAngie's your typical nerd. Actually - she prefers the term 'geek'. Anyway, the long and short of it is that she likes academics, not sports. Or athletes, for that matter. They tend to be much too condescending for her. Why, then, does the best bas...
