CHAPTER 39
“Another strike!” Marvin is in the bowling aisle, doing his own unique celebratory dance. I boo and give him a big thumbs down, secretly wishing I had him on my team, competitive person that I am. Instead I’m stuck with a group of the giggling Saturday staff. Between us we haven’t managed one strike, in comparison our balls seem to be in the gulley more frequently than hitting a pin.
“This one is knocking them all down,” I say with a confidence I don’t feel. I pick up the lightest ball, slot my fingers inside and fling it down the bowling lane. It bounces off the side rails and knocks down two pins.
“Yes!” I hold my hands up in mock celebration.
Marvin and Steph giggle and blow raspberries, childish folk they are. I walk back to my seat, the unattractive bowling pump
