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“Can you bowl for me?” she asked.
Miller’s pulse quickened as he realized his escape tunnel had just caved in.
Liza looked over at him expectantly.
Finally, he said, “I didn’t get accepted.”
“What? How is that possible? You were valedictorian!”
“I wasn’t good enough for the Ivy League schools, I guess.” Miller swallowed hard, trying to loosen the grasp some invisible being had on his windpipe.
“But what about other schools? There’s no way you wouldn’t get in somewhere.”
Attempt two to be saved by bowling arrived. “There. Rolled you a spare,” Oliver told Liza.
“Awesome job!” She high fived him and then asked, “Will you bowl for Miller too? He needs all the help he can get.”
Oliver looked at Miller for confirmation that he wanted him to bowl his turn.
“You’re not getting out of this convo, sir,” Liza whispered.
Miller groaned and told Oliver, “Go for it.”
They watched Oliver wait for the ball to return. Liza dug in. “So… what happened?”
“Starting tomorrow, I’m implementing a one-personal-question-a-day rule. Too much talking.” Miller rolled his neck from side to side. He felt tense and stiff like he had just finished intense cardio.
“I better get a bunch in today then!” Liza sat up.
“Nope. You’re at your limit.”
“You have to finish answering the last one though."
Miller grunted. “Fine. I didn’t… apply anywhere else. Going to college at an Ivy League university was my dream. When I didn’t get in, I questioned everything. If I couldn’t do that, maybe I couldn’t make it as a doctor either.”
Liza responded slowly. “I’m sorry. So… then you opened a dog rescue?”
Shaking his head no, Miller told her, “Q and A time is over.”
“Tomorrow,” Liza said with raised eyebrows. “You even have my question ahead of time so you can prepare.”
“Yo. Lame old people. You gonna bowl or am I just playing against Everette?” Oliver threw up his hands.
“Coming!” Liza replied brightly.
Miller exhaled. He needed a nap. Thankfully, there was only one frame left. He was competing against Everette for last place, but was determined to get third. Life had made him feel like a loser. He wanted to prove the universe wrong, just once. Even if that meant beating a twelve-year-old girl in bowling.
Stepping up to the lane, he held the ball close to his face. Then, he took two steps forward while letting his arm swing back. Next, he bent low—conjuring as much force as possible. As he released the ball, his back felt like it was suddenly clamped between two steel jaws. A pain shot down his leg. When he tried to stand, he couldn’t and collapsed to the floor.
Liza bent down next to him. “Miller, oh my gosh! Are you having a heart attack?”
“No,” Miller groaned. “The three signs of a heart attack…. are chest pain, feeling weak, arm… pain. Just tweaked… my back…” he managed.
“Can you stand?” Liza put her hand on his shoulder and he felt warmth rushing to the area.
“Yeah… I’ll… be fine. Just… need a minute.”
“You know what? My chiropractor is amazing. I’ll text him right now.”
