Fallen

Chapter 40. The bowling night [Caleb]

There is a bored-looking guy behind the check-in counter.

He's chewing gum, forming a pink round bubble with his mouth and popping it with an audible pop.

The guy's fingers are smashing down on his phone screen harshly. There are cartoonish sounds coming from off of it in a continuous pattern. A constant ting, ting. If the angry look that his coworker is sending him from across the counter is anything to go by he doesn't seem to really care.

I clear my throat for the third time, trying to get his attention, which I'm finally granted if the death-stare is anything to go by. He's looking at me through his heavy eyeliner, another bubble forming, popping when he opens his mouth to speak. He clearly didn't appreciate me interrupting his game.

"What sizes?" He asks.

He stops for a short second to give M a very obvious once-over. There's a smirk pulling on his face, clearly enjoying what he sees.

"I'm a size 43," I start. "And size 48 for him." I point towards M, remembering back to when we went clothes shopping the first time, when M didn't have any clothes nor any shoes.

The guy doesn't waste too much time finding our shoes on the tall shelf behind him before handing us our black and red patterned bowling shoes. Mine are chipped at the ends, ragged and even worse off than M's. I somehow feel as if that was intentional.

"You know what they say about big feet," The guy says, winking at M.

It's like getting shot by an invisible arrow straight to the back. All the air leaves my lungs as I take in the obvious flirt. Somehow I feel both totally appalled and jealous at the same time. Maybe I'm being slightly dramatic but this guy is clearly walking on thin ice if you ask me.

All M does is smile politely.

"I actually don't know what that means," M replies.

"Let's go find some bowling balls," I say, leading us away from the guy before he can say anything else. Sending him a stare right back in return. M does little to refuse, following me hand in hand over to the multicolored bowling balls on a rack. All assorted into different weights.

I grab one of the balls, feeling out its weight in my hands. Searching for the perfect ball that will lead me to victory.

"What did he mean by what he said?" M asks as he does the same, copying the way I hold the ball.

"He was commenting on the size of your... thing," I reply pointing downwards.

M looks down to where I'm pointing before looking up with raised brows.

"My toes?" M suggests. "There isn't anything special about them, they're just like everyone else's."

I roll my eyes. "Of course you would think he talked about your toes," I whisper under my breath.

"Am I holding it wrong?" M asks, ignoring my comment even though he obviously heard it.

I point towards the holes in the ball. "You need to put your fingers in there," I say. Even with the lack of bowling skills, teaching M how to at least hold the ball proved to be easy.

"I don't understand why you need to be vague, just tell me," M begs. "He didn't mean any harm, did he?"

"No," I sigh, knowing M just would not drop it until he knew exactly what was meant. "He just commented on you being, well, well-endowed."

M cocks his head. "You mean the size of my-"

"Yep," I interrupt him. A blush forming on my face, this isn't something to really talk about in a bowling alley. Or anywhere in public if you ask me. I'm way too- you know what nevermind. "Okay enough of this, let's meet up with the others. We have the lane all the way in the back."