Page 45 of Storm in a Teacup
“I do like bowling.”
“Why bowling?” I ask as we set off.
He smiles shyly. “They were trying to plan an activity that would mean something to me. I had been saving for years and years because I wanted to travel during that gap year I took before uni. As you know, I went to the States for the national parks, but I didn’t want that to be the only thing I did while there. So, in each new city I visited, I went bowling.”
“Because?” I prompt.
“It was a cheap option, and I like the atmosphere. Old men and stale beer. Glow-in-the-dark floors. Half-broken arcade games.”
“And screaming children,” I add.
“Naw, I’d go while they were in school. It was silly, and random, and made me feel like I actually took the time to visit these new places.”
“Huh,” I muse. “That’s a good idea. Unique. I like that you did that. So, you’re good at bowling?”
He laughs. “I’m much worse than you’d expect.”
“Well, I’m much better than you’d expect.”
“Then, game on, Jenkins.”
We arrive at the bowling alley, but he pauses outside it.
“Ben?” I ask. “Are we going in?”
“Yeah.”
He doesn’t move.
I nudge him with my elbow. “What is it? Why don’t you wantto celebrate your birthday?”
“I don’t deserve it,” he says simply.
“A birthday party?”
“Aye. I mean, I’ve been a shite friend. A shite brother. The only good thing I’ve been lately is a business partner. Also…” he trails off.
“Also?”
He kicks the ground absently. “I still don’t feel like myself. Everything feels different and it feels wrong celebrating this big milestone birthday when I don’t feel like me.”
I purse my lips before throwing out, “Have you ever considered that you actually feel more like yourself than ever? That youshouldbe celebrating this milestone because of that?”
“I…no?”
“You’re adding layers, Ben. That’s what life is. Layers and layers that make up a whole person. Not every layer is a warm blanket—most probably aren’t, but these layers areyou.”
He considers this for a moment, letting my words spread over him. He gives a slight indication of his head before he takes my hand casually, leading me inside.
The spaceisdark, but it’s also bright, lit with that weird mix of black, glow-in-the-dark carpet floors and neon light fixtures. This lighting is mostly fine for me. After we collect our bowling shoes, I could easily make my way to the table where his friends are gathered in front of our reserved lane without his assistance. However, I keep hold of his hand. For myself or because of the nerves radiating off of him, I’m not sure.
We join Rachel, Isla, David, and Callum where they’re sitting. I take a seat next to Isla to tie my bowling shoes and try not to think about all the other feet they have been on.
Rachel plugs Ben’s name into the computer first, but insteadof “Ben” she types “Birthday Boy.”
“Rach, I’m not turning ten,” he admonishes, but the smile hinting at the corners of his lips tells me he’s enjoying this.
Rachel confirms, “Linny with a y?” as she types my name in below Ben’s.
