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‘It’s French toast.’
‘Then I’ll have it in my room,’ she replies.
I knew that would change her mind.
As I head back downstairs, willing to play waitress to Jess to save her from bearing witness to our suspiciously mature parents, I think about the decidedly immature evening I’ve got ahead of me: disco bowling. We only have one bowling place in town, but I won’t make the same mistake as last night, I’ll double check.
Disco bowling, though – that’s not exactly up my alley, no pun intended. Do I really need to go to some random event, just to avoid being at home with my family?
As I turn the corner into the living room, I see that my dad is on the same side of the island as my mum now, leaning in close as she shows him how she cuts the pockets into the thick slices of brioche bread. He has the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on his face – I hope it’s because he’s impressed with her cooking skills, and nothing more.
Well, that makes my mind up about that one. Disco bowling it is.
10
As I deliberated over what to wear this evening, I wondered whether the ‘disco’ part of disco bowling referred to the disco era, or just a general party vibe, like a school disco. In the end, I decided that leaning in to the disco era would be more of a miss, if it turned out to be the latter, and I hustled into the room wearing flares and pink tinted sunglasses.
Thankfully, for once in God knows how long, I made the right decision. There’s nothing seventies-themed about tonight, it’s just more of a party vibe than usual bowling, so I don’t look out of place in my black skinny jeans and nice top. I’m glad I made the effort with my hair and make-up, though. I feel like everyone, generally, got way more attractive while I was off the social circuit.
As bowling alleys go, this is just, well, a bowling alley. I’m surprised they haven’t changed more over the years, moving with technology like everything else has, although I don’t know what more I’m expecting. It’s busy here, but in a good way. There are plenty of people around, lots my own age, and no rules about needing to stay silent that I’m aware of – but also there are no balloons, and drinks are served behind the bar, so there is no danger of me making the same faux pas tonight anyway. I suppose I could walk into a Christmas tree, or accidentally string myself up in tinsel, so I’d best not speak too soon, had I?
One thing about tonight that’s better than last night is that the organiser of this event, a girl called Leila, told us whereabouts in the place to meet, and that she would be wearing a bright yellow dress. I’m relieved when I head to the seating area at the left side of the bar and spot a tall, red-haired girl in a gorgeous bright yellow dress.
I head over there, kind of nervously (but can you blame me for worrying, after last night?), and hover awkwardly beside her. Thankfully she takes charge of the situation.
‘Hello,’ she says brightly. ‘Are you one of our Matcher lot?’
‘I am,’ I say, loosening up, now that I know I’m in the right place. ‘I’m Billie, nice to meet you.’
‘Lovely to meet you, Billie, I’m Leila, as you’ve probably worked out from the loud dress.’
‘It’s a beautiful dress,’ I tell her. ‘You look gorgeous.’
‘So do you, hun,’ she replies through a big smile. ‘That’s you secured your place on the same lane as me. We’re just waiting for everyone to arrive. In the meantime, go to the bar, grab yourself a drink – everyone in this section is one of us, so mingle away. And then it’s time to disco bowl, baby.’
I smile.
‘I can’t wait,’ I tell her.
I’ve probably only been bowling a handful of times, and they were all when I was still at school, but while this may not be my scene, there’s a really fun vibe here. Tonight might actually be okay.
I take a seat at the bar. Eventually a bar man, who seems like he’s already juggling at least three other drinks, asks me what I want.
‘I’ll have a Fig Lebowski, please,’ I say, laughing to myself at the name of the fruity gin cocktail I fancy.
‘Coming right up,’ he replies.
‘Isn’t it great here?’ the man to my left says.
I turn to face him. He’s a thirty-something blond with chiselled cheekbones and blue eyes.
‘It is,’ I reply. ‘Really cool.’
‘You’re here with this lot too, I take it?’ he says, nodding towards Leila and the rest of the Matcher squad.
‘I am,’ I reply. ‘This is my first one, actually. Have you been to many?’
‘Quite a few,’ he admits, pausing briefly while I pay for my drink. ‘I went into London for a couple of days at the start of the month – there are hundreds of events to choose between. Here, not so much, but enough to keep you busy. It’s mostly the same crowd, though. It’s good to see some new blood.’
