Page 39 of Saints & Sailors

Like a tightknit crew, we approached the alley and entered its quarters.

Once inside, I realized Bonham was right. The entire place was swarming with teenagers from the staff to the customers. It was all one big underage party.

“This is about as nice as the adults get around here,” Bonham explained to my confusion after we’d gotten our shoes and lane location. “They figure they let us let loose here and send a cop or two by to check in on us to make sure we’re not killing each other and all’s good. The school even has designated drivers on standby, not to mention Uber and Lyft. As long as we don’t torch the place, they’re laissez-faire, just for a night.”

It was kind of interesting. I guessed the town wasn’t so lame after all.

The bowling alley housed a litter of every high school cliché you could think of. There were jocks, cheerleaders, misfits, and a few freaks and geeks in between.

I did manage to make out some familiar faces from class, Cameron’s friend Vanity being one. She was lounging back against some tall guy in a Horton High jacket. A buddy of Aidan’s named Ebram. He had a fade too, except unlike Dreux’s natural coils on top, he had locs.

Vanity spotted me and made a show to wave. God bless this girl. “Hey, Navy!”

Close enough. Forcing a smile on my face, I said, “Hey, Vanessa!”

Vanity laughed. She was already too far gone. “It’s Vanity.”

I gestured to myself. “Saylor.”

She bobbed her head and tugged on Ebram’s arm. “This is my boyfriend, Ebram.”

Ebram merely tipped his head toward me before sliding his gaze elsewhere, namely being two girls in the lane over.

Vanity squinted her eyes, trying to see through her drunken vision. “You’re here with Bonham?”

Bonham took no offense as he planted himself next to me. “Evening, Vanity.”

She frowned a little. “I don’t like him for you.”

“Aww, but I totally love Ebram for you,” Bonham mocked in a high-pitched tone of voice.

Ebram tore his eyes away from some girl’s ass and shot Bonham a death glare. “Get lost, Bonham.”

Bonham smirked. I loved that he wasn’t intimidated by Ebram’s much bigger stature. Bonham was a cool five-foot-eleven, average in build, and not at all threatening in the manner of his reputation. Ebram was a clear athlete with his six-foot-plus height and massive physique.

“We’re just here until Rick shows up,” Bonham clarified.

To this Ebram settled down.

Of the two St. Julien men that I met, I wondered if Rick was as handsome.

“Cameron says you live next to Dreux,” Vanity spoke up. “I like him.”

Of course. Who wouldn’t like Dreux’s angel to Bonham’s devil?

“Not my type,” I let her know.

Vanity waved me off. “You just gotta get to know him. Ooh, ooh.” She got really excited as she sat up, the contents of her cup sloshing onto the floor. “And see what he looks like in sweatpants.”

“Sweatpants?”

“It’s about how he looks in sweatpants,” Vanity insisted. “Not in that pervy way, but in that cozy I-Wanna-Cuddle way.”

“O-kay.” How much had she drunk already?

“Ooh, and pull-ups.”

“Pull-ups?”