“But you saw him and Hannah at the lake, when you went back to tell him you were taking me home?”
Alex bends down to pick up a wayward twig and tosses it into the water. “Yeah, I saw him.”
“And he was fine, right? Hannah was fine?”
He sighs and is quiet for a long minute. “They . . . they were pretty wrapped up in each other. I didn’t want to interrupt them.”
I stop him with a hand on his arm. “Do you believe her? You know him almost as well as I do. Owen wouldn’t do this.”
“No way. I mean . . . I never would’ve thought . . .” He sighs again and rubs both of his eyes. “I fucking don’t know what to think right now. He’s my best friend, but . . .”
He trails off. That but hangs heavily between us, his exhaustion and confusion so familiar that it makes my stomach hurt. We want everyone to be right and no one to be right.
“Let’s go do something,” I say.
“Huh?”
“Something fun.”
“It looks like you’re having plenty of fun frolicking among the dead.”
“You’re one to talk.”
He fights a smile. “I was most certainly not frolicking.”
I laugh. “Well, while I have enjoyed my time with the residents of Orange Street Cemetery, I’m thinking something a little less . . .”
“Deceased?”
“Yes, exactly. Something silly where we don’t have to think about anything for an hour or two.”
Alex watches me for a few seconds, his eyes running up my galaxy-print leggings so intently I feel myself blushing. Then a smile splits his smooth lips. “I think I know just the place.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” I say, peering up at the neon bubble letters on the front of the building.
“Hey, you said silly and fun. I’m just delivering.”
I laugh and we climb out of TLB. “Fun is yet to be determined.”
“Oh, just you wait.”
Inside, Glow Galaxy smells like industrial-strength sanitizer and rubber. A bored-looking lady behind the counter plays a loud game on her phone. Behind her, doors lead into the main room, the windows in the center completely dark.
“Hello,” Alex says, and the lady snaps up her head, surprised. “Two, please.”
She flicks her gaze between us, and I can see her mind guessing at our ages and whether or not she should question our presence here in the middle of the day on a Tuesday. Finally she shrugs and types something on the computer next to her.
“Nineteen fifty. You can put your shoes in the cubby just inside the door.” She chin-nods toward the main room. “No shoving, no hitting, no spitting.”
Alex raises his brows while he hands her a twenty from his wallet. “Spitting?”
“You’d be surprised.” She drops two quarters into his palm, then gestures for us to hold out our arms. She fastens two neon-green paper bracelets around our wrists. “Have a glowing time.”
“Ah,” Alex says. “I see what you did there.”
She just stares at him and then goes back to her game.
“Cheery,” I say as we head toward the main room.
