My head’s still spinning, and my heart’s still racing, but I force a smile. “Lemme guess, you got another strike?”
“Sure did!” she says, her whole face lighting up, and she steps closer to grab my hand. “Come on, your turn!”
Her fingers close around mine, and she leads me over to the ball return. It’s strange and yet not, because she’s been doing little things like this the whole time we’ve been here. Taking my hand, leaning on my shoulder. Hell, she even gave me a much-too-familiar celebratory hug whenIactually got a strike during the first frame. It’s obvious what she’s trying to do, and I don’t blame her, I guess. She’s never been subtle that she likes me. But since I’ve never been clear to her about my own feelings, she can’t really know that I’m not on the same page as her.
I was supposed to fix that today. I promised myself I’d be honest with her about it. And after Nico’s phone call, it feels different. Her touch doesn’t seem as innocuous anymore. In fact, it’s kind of making me uncomfortable now.
I swallow hard and stop. “Jenna . . .”
She looks up at me, her hand tightening around mine, and there’s something different in her eyes that’s almost hungry. Not really, actually, but for a second, that’s what I feel, especially when she loosens her fingers from around mine and starts trailing them up my forearm.
“Hmm?” she asks, her lips pursed into a playful half smile.
And that’s really too much now. A sharp shudder runs through me—and it’s not pleasant.
I pull my arm away and step back, shaking my head. “Um, can we talk? I think maybe I, uh, need to be more honest with you about... things.”
She bites her lip as her expression shifts to something much more serious, and then she clasps her hands together in front of her and nods. “Yeah. Sure. Um...” She blinks, lowering her eyes, and then motions to the seats next to us. “Is this something we can talk about here? Or should we maybe head out to my car for some privacy?”
That’s a good question, though I’m not really sure what the right answer is.
I glance up around the bowling alley, and I’m reminded how loud and busy it is here today. Which automatically makes me think about Nico and how he absolutely hated it here the one time we came together. I can’t remember the occasion, maybe it was a birthday party or something.
“Alex?”
“Hmm?” My eyes snap back to hers, and she’s watching me now, her eyebrows raised. “Oh, right, um... Eithershould be fine.”
“Okay.”
She sits and although there are enough seats so that I wouldn’t have to sit directly next to her, it suddenly seems like it’s even louder in here, and I realize Iwouldhave to sit directly next to her for her to hear me. I frown.
“Actually—”
She stands up abruptly, shaking her head. “Yeah, it’s too loud in here. Come on. I was going to kick your ass anyway. We’ll just say I won.” She slips off her bowling shoes and puts her sneakers back on, and I copy her. Then we drop off the bowling shoes at the desk at the front before heading outside.
She’s quiet as she leads the way, not to her car, but out across the parking lot in the opposite direction. She’s walking fast, her head down, and she glances back at me when I jog a few steps to keep up. With a tight smile, she slows her pace a little and says, “I wanted to go to the RiverFront after we were done bowling. Better than sitting in my car, right? And it’ll be quiet there.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” I agree, and I continue to follow her as she heads down Harney Street for a couple of blocks and then cuts across the short grass toward Conagra Lake, a small, man-made lake right alongside the Missouri River in east Omaha.
I’ve only been here once before, but Jenna seems to know her way around like she’s much more familiar with the place than me. She leads us down to the sidewalk that runs along the outside of the lake and then around to the north end before veering off a side path and up to a small enclave formed around a hexagonal bench.
“I used to come here a lot,” she explains as she takes a seat on the bench, pulling her legs up to sit cross-legged. “Before we moved. Or, before we movedagain, I mean.” She pauses for a second and then pats the bench next to her. “Sit. It’s really kind of perfectright here.”
I run a hand nervously through my hair, but I go ahead and take a seat next to her on the bench. The wooden panels of the bench are warm from the sun, and I fold my legs up to sit like she is, facing the lake. I feel her looking at me for a second, and I turn my head to meet her gaze.
She’s more reserved than normal, and I realize she probably has some idea of what I want to talk about, given how I pulled away from her at the bowling alley. But she just flashes me a small smile and then looks back out to the lake.
“I don’t know if I ever told you...” she starts, and she sets one hand down on the bench close to mine, though she doesn’t touch me. “When I was a freshman, we moved from New Hampshire to Kansas City. Then partway through my junior year, we moved again to Omaha. We actually lived in the apartments right over there.” She points off in the general direction of the southwest and then frowns. “It was only a year before we moved again, just back at the beginning of March. I guess it was okay, since I hadn’t been here that long. Mom still works here in the city. Dad works from home. They wanted to buy a house, since it seems like they’re finally settling down and done moving around the country. You know, now thatIgraduated and am ready to head off to college.” She laughs sardonically, and there’s just enough sadness in her voice that I move my hand over to cover hers.
“That sounds really rough, all that moving around,” I say, squeezing her hand gently. Maybe that’s counter to what I should be doing, especially with what I need to talk to her about, but I’m trying to be about as platonic as I can about it. And she does seem like she really needs a friend.
But when I lift my eyes to her face, she’s staring at our hands with her eyebrows narrowed and her lips pursed.
“Alex, I thought . . . ?”
I huff a quiet laugh and pull my hand away. “Sorry, yeah, I,um... You sounded sad, and I...” I clasp my hands in front of me and drop my eyes. “I should talk now, huh?”
“Probably.”
