Page 20 of Unspoken Rules

There was a plan to do something after bowling, but considering we’ve had quite a few drinks—minus Mila because she doesn’t touch alcohol—and are having the time of our lives, we aren’t going anywhere. The bowling alley is dark, neon lights dancing to the beat of whatever pop song comes over the speakers. Everyone is dancing in their lanes, having drinks, eating greasy food, laughing, and playing their games.

As I thought I would, I’ve lost each of the four games we’ve played so far. Lost as in came in last place by an embarrassing amount. I haven’t hit three digits in a single game.

“I suck!” I shout as I turn, sick of watching my balls go down the gutter.

Mark is curled over laughing, tears in his eyes, while Mila is watching me with her nose scrunched up. Chris is talking to some girl he “accidentally” bumped into, and Onyx is keeping score.

“Better luck next time, man,” he says, using a hand to pull his beanie down further on his head. The thing is like the ugliest security blanket I’ve ever seen.

“So, how many strikes do I need to at least come in fourth?” I rest my forearm on Onyx’s shoulder, and we look up at the screen.

“Uh,” Onyx says, looking over the scores and doing the math in his head. He’s a secret genius. You’d never know how smart he is by looking at him. He looks like a grunge kid who spends his time smoking weed and skateboarding, but he doesn’t do either of those things. “Ten.”

“Ten?” I shout, squinting up at the screen. “We have two frames left!”

“Better luck next time?” Onyx says with an awkward shrug of his shoulders before bursting into laughter.

I groan and throw my arm around Mila. I bend to bury my face in her shoulder and whine loudly. She laughs, patting me on the back.

“It’s okay if you suck at bowling, Bryson. We still love you.”

“I’m so glad to be home, Mila.”

I lift my head from her shoulder but keep my arm around her and she puts hers around my waist.

“I’m glad you’re back.” Her gaze goes to Chris for a brief second before she ducks her head.

“He’s an asshole,” I tell her. She shrugs. I spin her and move us to the seats while Onyx takes his turn. He knocks down seven pins the first shot. Fucker.

“It’s fine,” she says. “It’s just not meant to be.”

Everyone in our group knows about the two of them, and they know we know. We all just act like we don’t, turning a blind eye to it to not cause drama. They can handle whatever that is on their own.

I lean close to her, and say, “If you want me to kick his ass, I will. I know where he sleeps.”

She giggles, pushes me away and sighs. “Really, it’s okay. But what about you? No lucky lady in your life, Bryson Montgomery?”

I roll my lips between my teeth and look at the ground. These damn bowling shoes are hideous. Everyone thinks so. You’d think they’d find some new styles or something.

I’m angry at myself for never telling her. For never telling anyone other than Chris and Cole. It was one of the things that made moving to Rhode Island more appealing. It was a fresh start. For me to show up and be who I am, not worrying about changing anyone’s opinion of me by telling them I’m gay.

Not that I think my friends would look at me differently, but you never know.

“I’m sorry. If you don’t want to talk about it—”

“I’m gay,” I blurt, turning to her with a forced smile.

Her eyes widen for a split second, until she relaxes and rests her cheek on my shoulder.

“I think I knew that, Bry. But I knew you needed to tell me on your own time.”

The relief and confusion I feel is overwhelming. “How long?”

She shrugs, hooking her arms around my bicep and hugging it. “Forever.”

I huff out a laugh. “Bullshit. I didn’t even know till sophomore year.”

She lifts her head, her brown eyes meeting mine.

---