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With that, he steps onto the platform, and stands tall as the pins reset. I get the feeling I’m about to look like a fool, but honestly, I could care less. I’m just happy to be here, having fun with him.
Andrew lobs the ball down the aisle at an impressive speed, knocking down all but two pins in the process. My jaw drops to my chest, and when he turns around, he appears slightly sheepish. “It’s not intentional, I promise.” He eyes me down, and I laugh at how bummed he seems.
“Holy shit, what are you, a prodigy? Is this your way of telling me you’re in a bowling league or something?”
“No,” Andrew laughs. “In case you didn’t notice, there isn’t much to do in this town, so we’ve always had birthday parties, or any other celebration here. Or if it was just a boring Saturday night, my brothers and I would all come out and compete. Eventually, we started picking up some skills.” He shrugs, grabbing his ball again.
“Well, I’m impressed. I expect lessons now,” I say, tilting my head.
“Hmm, I think I can manage that.” Andrew steps backwards toward the alley, spinning around. He takes a moment to get his bearings, then the ball is hurtling toward the two pins standing. Of course, he hits them, and they fly backwards.
He turns around again, smiling as he watches the screen above my head sing his praises for his spare.
“Alright, now you’re just getting cocky,” I say to Andrew. After a few games, he’s racked up an impressive five strikes, and an additional spare. Meanwhile, I think I’ve knocked down a total of six pins. Andrew has offered to help, and has given me plenty of tips, but I think I’m just not quite strong enough to get the ball moving as fast as he can.
“I promise, I’m not. I can start trying to suck?” Andrew questions, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t mind losing.”
Laughing, I grab my ball again. “No, don’t! I like seeing you win, I just think it’s funny how comically bad I am.”
The place has cleared out now since the group of teens left. Our friend at the counter, Orlando, has left, replaced by a young girl with jet black dyed hair and eyeliner covering both her eyes. She’s gorgeous, but my only thought is how long it must take her to get it all off every night. I barely wear makeup, and it’s a hassle to get off.
Andrew ordered a pizza not too long ago, and the girl brings it out, setting it on our table. I set my ball back down, crossing over to the table. The pepperoni and sausage pizza is steaming, clearly just having come out of the oven. “Thanks, Sasha!” Andrew calls as she heads back toward the desk.
“You know her?” I ask, sliding a piece onto the paper plates she brought with.
“Yeah, she’s a good kid. One of my buddies from high school’s little sister. Though, everyone knows everyone here.”
I shrug, blowing on the pizza in an attempt to cool it. “If everyone knows everyone, how come it took you two weeks to find me?” I laugh as Andrew’s smile droops, and he groans.
“I tried, petals. You’re a tough girl to find,” he says. He flops down into the chair across from me, grabbing a slice. “I asked everyone I saw if they knew of the new florist in town, and one of them knew you, but couldn’t remember your business name. I swear, I tried.”
“Andrew, it’s fine,” I laugh. “You act as though I was missing for five years, not a missed connection of two weeks.”
“It felt like five years,” Andrew grumbles under his breath. “While we are on the topic, what is the name of your business?”
I take a bite of pizza right as he asks, so I try to chew the flaming hot food, while trying not to appear as if my mouth is burning from the inside out. Any other day, I would have spit it out right away, but that probably wouldn’t be a great impression on the first date.
“You alright?” he asks. “This shit is super hot.”
I nod, taking a long drink of my pop. “I’m good. Just wasn’t expecting it,” I croak. Clearing my throat, I tell him about my business. “It’s called Ivy Ridge Floral. I probably could have come up with a better, more creative name, but I was in a bit of a hurry to get my LLC up and running. Any other ideas I had were way too cheesy.”
“Wow, you were really right under my nose this whole time,” Andrew scoffs good naturedly. “Personally, I love it. I don’t think you have to have a super creative name for something to work. A lot of it has to do with your work ethic and skills.”
He pauses, taking a big bite of pizza. “I agree,” I state. Without thinking, my next words bubble to the surface before I can stop them. “My ex thought all the names I came up with were stupid. He said I needed to have something super out there, so people would be more intrigued.”
Andrew chews quickly. “Well, he’s a dimwit, for a multitude of reasons. The first being that he let you go. Second, sure, a creative name can help, but like I said, it’s about the craft itself.”
“I agree.” Totally just going to drift by the remark about my ex letting me go.
“I mean look at me,” he continues. “Cunningham Bespoke Woodcraft.” He gestures at the sky. “My great-grandpa came up with that, and we’re still here. We aren’t here because of the name, we’re here because of the quality work we do.”
“I guess I’ve never thought of it like that,” I say, pondering that. I knew Zack was an idiot, but my parents and best friend Tessa even mentioned that they thought Ivy Ridge Floral was too bland. Andrew’s encouragement helps more than he realizes. “Thanks, I needed that.”
“Needed what?”
“The pep talk. I didn’t exactly have an abundance of support when I moved out here, so I’ve been doing it all on my own.” I look away, not wanting to see the inevitable pity on his face.
“Lucky for you, I’m hard to get rid of. I’m like a leech. Stuck to you. Though, I won’t suck all your blood. I’m not some weird sparkly vampire.”
