I step back as she holds the bowling ball far back from herself, almost as if she’ll release it in the wrong direction. Then she goes up on her tiptoes and practically prances toward the alley, flinging her arm forward and releasing the ball with a squeak.
She nearly tumbles down the lane after it, but she catches herself at the last second. The ball makes a very slow, painful journey toward the pins.
It knocks down seven of them.
She turns around and squeals as she clenches her fists. “See? I’m a quick learner!”
I shake my head and grin. There was so much wrong with the way she just bowled, but she also has a point. It was better than last time.
By the time we’re done bowling, I’ve seen things no person should ever have to see in a bowling alley—Lucy on her handsand knees, begging heaven for bowling help. Lucy placing bets with other people about what I will bowl. And then, there was Lucy wondering if it was fair for her to have bumpers but not me.
I’m exhausted by the time we leave the bowling alley, but it’s the kind of exhausted where I know I’ve had the best time.
I can’t stop smiling.
I can’t wait to get home, crash on the couch, and watch a show.
I glance at Lucy, who is leaning back in the passenger seat with her eyes closed. She’s stretching her fingers, as though they’re sore from bowling.
“Is it going to bother you if I have the TV on tonight?”
She shakes her head. “I’d sleep through a wreck.”
“Okay, good. I was planning on watchingLove & Lies.New episode is out tonight.”
She snaps her eyes open. “Is it Thursday already?”
“Yes,” I say slowly.
“I usually watch that show on my phone in bed,” she admits with a grin.
Love & Liesis a new show about true white-collar crime but filmed in a way that it almost feels fictionalized.
“Well, I’ve been watching it on my laptop in my room. I didn’t want to bother you by leaving the TV on at night.”
Lucy shakes her head. “We’re kind of ridiculous—you know that?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“I mean that we’ve been tiptoeing around each other ever since I moved in. I want you to feel like you can live your life. You don’t have to change everything just because you have a roommate. And look at us.” She grins. “We’re fun. We have a good time together. We both love the same TV show. We’re literally the most compatible roommates there ever were.”
She says it in such a way—with zero artifice or ulterior motive—that I can’t help but agree with her.
“Why did you move in with me? Margaret said you needed a place.”
Watching her out of the corner of my eye, I notice that she freezes for a second before she studies her hands.
“Well, um…” She clears her throat, and I immediately feel guilty for asking.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to answer.”
“No, it’s okay. The main reason is that I have a big student loan to pay off. And another company just took it over and increased the interest.” She shakes her head. “I can’t afford to rent an apartment here and make those payments.”
Something churns in my stomach at her words. It’s outrageous that someone has to go to school for so long to become an important part of society, only to not be able to afford to live.
“Is rent too high? I’ll lower it. In fact, you can just live with me?—”
“No!” she exclaims, cutting me off. “I’m paying you a quarter of what an apartment costs. You’ve given me such a good deal, you’re going to have a heck of a time kicking me out.” She grins at me, but it looks desperate, like she doesn’t want to keep talking about it.
