The Multitudes Within Me (Sequel to The Sound of Ice)

17

The bowling alley is small and old-fashioned, but well-loved, and well-kept. It's washed over in neon lights, purples and blues and pinks, reflecting off skin and bouncing off eyelashes. A popular song is thumping in the background. Everything is giddy and every joke is funny, and we're all eating greasy cheese fries. There are lots of people here - I only know Eliza, and Marly, and Julie - but everyone treats me like I'm their best friend.

Marly is a great bowler. So is Eliza, really. I'm the worst one there, but I don't mind - no one minds, no one is paying attention to the score. We roll shiny bowling balls down the lane, stretch out against the patterned chairs, people in other people's laps, arms flung casually around necks, loud laughs and broad grins. I'm not drunk - at least, I don't think I am - but I'm happy, if that's any indication.

Julie's boyfriend brought a joint, so before the cake is cut we go outside and take turns smoking, and I'm surprised at how relaxed I feel, how nice everyone is, how warm and easy the environment is, how pretty everyone looks.

"Wow," says Eliza when she sees the cake - chocolate with vanilla icing, her favorite, decorated with fondant flowers. "It's beautiful!" We sing her happy birthday, off-key, too loudly. A few people take pictures on their phones, illuminating the dim setting, and the cake is sliced greedily. God, the cake is great. Maybe the best cake I've ever had.

When people turn back to bowling, Eliza catches me gently by the arm.

"Hey," she says. She's wearing the earrings I bought her, and colorful lights of the bowling alley are thrown across her face. "Thanks for tonight, Sam. I mean it. This is a lot of fun."

I feel my cheeks warm. "It was all Marly."

"Still, I know you helped. It's perfect. I'm so happy."

"Well, it's your birthday! You deserve to be happy."

Her eyes soften. "You deserve to be happy too, Sam." And then someone calls her name and she's pulled away, laughing.

The night wears on and midnight clicks by, and people are starting to get tired. Some are suggesting we get froyo down the street, others saying coffee - no one wants to go to sleep, because that means the night will be over, and who wants the night to be over?

"I'll be right back," I say as people debate - because everything here is so smart, of course they're going to launch into a debate - and head to the bathrooms. The hallway is small and narrow, the lighting dim and tinted a shade of purple, and vintage posters line the wall. I reach for the men's door as the women's opens.

"Oh, hey Sam!" says Marly. Her hair is pulled back in a high ponytail, and her lips are glossy. She smiles genuinely. "I heard people talking about getting froyo. Are you gonna go?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Yay! Me too. I haven't had froyo in so long." She tilts her head and studies me. Then, "You okay?"

I look at my shoes - navy sneakers, the ones I bought with Eliza - then up at her. She smells clean and fresh, like flowers, the light perfume she wears, and we're so close that I can almost taste it. She brushes a strand of hair out of her eyes, blinks, I put a hand on her waist, and she steps in closer, and I kiss her. She is sweet and slow and melting, like honey.

Marly runs her fingers through my hair and kisses me back, and then pulls away gently, turning her head to the side, glancing at me. "Sam," she says softly, apologetically. "You have a boyfriend."

I feel very sick, very sudden, and the world dizzies and sharpens and dizzies again.

"I love you," says Marly. "And I think you're a wonderful person. But I think I love you as a friend. Besides, I hear the way you talk about him. You're crazy for him."

My throat is dry. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Are you alright?" She smooths her hand on my shoulder, her touch warm, and comforting, and sickening. "Why don't I walk you to the dorms? You're just tired, Sam. It's alright. Please don't feel bad."

"I think I'll walk back on my own."

"Sam -"

I leave the bowling alley in a blur - it's past midnight so it's not that busy on the streets - freezing wind biting my skin, my head down, tears on my cheeks that might be from the cold. I feel sick, stop once or twice thinking I'm going to vomit but nothing comes out. My phone buzzes, and I know it's Cameron without even looking. I let it ring.

I am horrible. 

A/N oh boy