Page 112 of Wild

“That’s called murder, Foxhound.”

Fox throws his hands up in the air in defeat before grabbing a ball and taking his turn. He gets a strike and turns to give Rush the finger—luckily no one sees.

Next up is Cannon.

I pick up my hot dog and take a bite. Hollis steals a fry off my plate and I swat him away. “Donottouch my fries, Hollis Wilder.”

“But I love your fries.” He smirks.

I narrow my eyes. “You’re not talking about fried potatoes are you?”

He swipes another and pops it in his mouth. “Nope.”

Fox returns and this time it’s him snagging one of my fries. I frown. “If you guys keep eating all my food you’re going to buy me more,” I say in a tone with no room for argument.

“Sure thing.” Hollis swipes another fry.

Fox takes another too and I waggle my finger back and forth. “Swiper no swiping.”

He rolls his eyes, chewingmyfry. “What’s with you guys and the fox jokes today? You’re on a roll.”

“You’re easy to rile up which makes it fun.” Rush reaches over to ruffle his hair.

“Play nice while I’m gone children,” Cannon says, standing to take his turn.

I pick up my hotdog and before I can take a bite I shriek because all of my fries are gone.

I shove the paper container my frieswerein into Hollis’s chest and he grabs it. “More potatoes, peasant, and make it snappy.”

He stands and makes a dramatic bow. “Yes, my Queen. I live to serve.”

“You,” I point at Fox, “go get your own damn fries and make sure he does too. I’mnothere to share.” Fox sits there for a moment staring at me.“Now.”

He scurries after Hollis over to the food part of the bowling alley.

Rush snickers. “Seeing Hollis whipped is hands down the greatest thing ever.”

“He’s not whipped,” I defend.

“Oh, he’s whipped all right,” Cannon adds, sitting down once more. I check the screen to see his score. Rush and I are still in the lead and he’s goingdown. I don’t lose at bowling. Ever.

If I can’t make it in the music industry, I could always become a professional bowler—if it’s even a thing. Surely it is if people get paid to play football and basketball, right?

Kira takes her turn and then it’s Hollis’s turn—Rush takes it for him since he’s not back yet, cursing when he gets a strike for him.

Then it’s my turn.

I lift the bowling ball up, assessing the pins. I swing my arm back and let the ball go. It soars down the alley and…

“Strike,” I scream, turning to Rush and performing my happy dance, finger guns included. “You’re going down,” I tell him for the thousandth time as I sit down. Fox and Hollis are back and the table is now covered in … I pause to count the boxes of fries. “You bought twenty servings of fries,why?” I level my gaze on each of the boys.

“This way you can’t say we’re stealing yours.” Hollis shrugs. “There are plenty to go around.”

“Such a smart ass,” I grumble. “But at least there are fries now.”

I may or may not hoard three of the containers close to me. I only got a few fries out of my last order, so I’m making sure this time I actually get some.

“This is fun,” Kira says, drinking from her root beer. “We should go out as a group more often.”

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