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“Because your wife is carrying you. Thank goodness for you, Kathy.” Steve and Lucie’s mum had gone to school together, and he’d called her that ever since. Shortened names niggled Lucie’s dad, especially her mum’s name. Was Steve doing it to make her mum laugh, or was his aim to piss off her dad? Her dad gritted his teeth and glared.
“Lucie is letting our side down,” her dad said, nodding in her direction. “She’s been daydreaming through every go.”
Why did he have to be so passive-aggressive? If he could make a dig, he would. If they were struggling, or something wasn’t right, caring dads chatted with their daughters and found ways to encourage them, unlike Lucie’s dad. She used to enjoy bowling, but every family night at the bowling alley, Lucie’s dad would mention how bad she was at it.
Instead of saying something, she pulled the sleeves of her sweater down. At parents’ evening, her psychology teacher had explained that it was a way of hiding a small part of herself fromthe world and that she would benefit from being more confident. Why did everyone have to tell her what was wrong with her?
“Maybe I need a different ball,” she said loud enough for her dad to hear. It wasn’t quite standing up for herself, but it was an improvement. Did “be the exception” mean acting like that too? Those three words reminded her of Chris. Suddenly the anxiety from managing her dad disappeared and was replaced with the awkwardness that came with remembering Chris. A weird sponginess spread throughout her body. Whenever she thought of Chris, she’d smile before her mood quickly dropped. So what if he’d been kind to her? He’d also been the same guy who got into trouble and couldn’t be trusted. It was attraction and nothing more. She had to trust what Emma said about him. But if she couldn’t be friends with people different from her, she wouldn’t survive university. People there would ignore her like the girls at school did.
“She’s daydreaming again. Earth to Lucie!” Her dad’s voice cut through her daydreams.
“Huh?”
“Huh? You’re supposed to say, ‘Pardon.’” He laughed at her. “Why do you embarrass me in front of my friends? I’m never going to convince Steve that you’ll be a great lawyer if you talk like that.”
Her face burnt as all the adults stared at her. She yanked at her sleeves again.
“It’s my go,” Emma said loudly enough to draw everyone’s attention. And then she grabbed the ball, eyeing their dad to make sure he was watching, and dropped it on the lane and walked away. She hadn’t lined it up or tried to roll it but dropped it and walked off. It was such an Emma thing to do. Lucie hid her smile behind her hand so she wouldn’t get in trouble for enjoying Emma’s performance.
“I’m off to find a different ball,” Lucie shouted, her oversized bowling shoes slapping the floor as she retreated in haste.
No one noticed her go. Steve bent over laughing, and her dad was fuming and stamping his feet while Emma shrugged in his face.
Lucie’s thoughts returned to Chris. She hadn’t stopped thinking about him since they met. More than once, her mum caught her daydreaming, and when nudged for an explanation, she’d pretended she was planning her stationery for school. But in truth, Chris’s green eyes and dimples pierced her thoughts. And what was that other feeling? It was like when a sex scene came on the television. She’d watched a teen drama that everyone at school talked about alone in her room one night when her family believed she was asleep. The teenagers in it were her age, and they went to massive parties and trashed houses, and everyone had sex. One scene stood out. Two of the characters had sex at college on one of the desks while the teachers were in assembly. Lucie watched that scene a lot. Was that what she should be doing with guys? Her family didn’t talk about sex. She’d asked Emma about it a couple of times, but it was the one thing she wouldn’t say much about. No one at school talked to her, so she couldn’t ask them. What was she meant to feel?
Lucie stared at the racks of spare balls. The air was full of weird and wonderful smells, like shoe disinfectant spray mixed with freshly cooked hotdogs and yeasty beers. She held her breath, but the smell got in anyway. It brought back memories of “jokey” arguments, usually between Steve and her dad, from nights like these. The teenagers from the beach were on a nearby lane. They laughed and joked, cheered each other on when one of them bowled, and whooped and hollered when someone made a spare. They were happy together, but Lucie looked away so they wouldn’t catch her staring.
A woman suddenly appeared in front of her. With her skinny jeans and perfectly wavy hair, she displayed middle-class perfection. The small child hanging off her hip didn’t detract from her style as they sucked on her colourful scarf, which Lucie had seen on at least four other women at the bowling alley. “Are you okay? You’re the one that had a meltdown on the beach earlier.” Heat crept up Lucie’s cheeks as she attempted a response. Even in the middle of a forest holiday park, the same faces were always there.
“Yeah,” she replied, looking anywhere but at the woman in front of her.
“Darling, it’s Joshua’s go,” a man called out from the nearest lane. He was wearing the same smart jeans and checked shirt as every other dad in the place. As he said the boy’s name, several children looked over. Was every boy here called Joshua? Lucie’s eyes flicked to the screens, where the name Joshua was emblazoned on at least three of them, and Daisy was repeated several times too.
The woman returned to her lane, where Joshua got ready to bowl, commanding both parents’ attention, who took turns sipping white wine. Every lane was the same: white middle-class Stepford family of two parents and two kids. The village was supposed to be a retreat from the world, yet the whole place was stifling.I want to be free.But free from what? Her family, school, herself?
“Whoop, whoop!” The teenagers were celebrating again. The smallest guy in the group got a strike, and the girl who’d stared Lucie down earlier was breakdancing in celebration. What would it be like to hang out with them? Was the atmosphere different for them because they were here with friends?
Fear of a lifetime of loneliness kept her awake some nights, but sleep could be worse. She had a recurring dream of getting to university and enjoying a night at the pub surrounded byfriends. As she was laughing with her best friend, someone would walk in and tell her she didn’t belong and that no one liked her. They’d make her leave. What if she got to university and was crippled by anxiety? There would be no Emma to rescue her then. “Be the exception” sneaked into her thoughts, but she batted it away.
Lucie focused on the balls in front of her and not the suffocating atmosphere of the entire entertainment building. The balls sat in rows of colours and sizes. Which one was best? It would be easier to throw if it was a lighter ball, but would that make less impact? The heavy ones powered all the skittles down, but not if you couldn’t roll them properly.
A shiver covered her neck. Was someone watching her? Suddenly there was a tap on her shoulder. Was this another person ready to share their opinions on her beach antics? She turned her head, but there was no one there. Was Jess or Emma messing with her?
“Surprise,” Chris said from her other side. His goofy smile brought butterflies to her belly. Her mouth went dry, and she winced at her reaction. “Sorry, did I freak you out? I wasn’t sure how to say hi without making an idiot of myself,” he added.
The smell of burgers and Lynx Africa wafted to her nostrils as she tried to find her voice.
“Please forgive me, Lucie.” His smile was gone. With a furrowed brow, he was unbelievably cute.Whatever you do, don’t say that out loud.
What should she say? Her silence had gone on for so long that she’d make it weird, whatever she said, but being silent wasn’t good either. But no words came out of her mouth.I want to meet him tomorrow away from everyone, but I can’t say that because… because…
“I should go. I’m sorry for being odd. That’s what my teachers called it, ‘Chris and his odd ways.’ I should have known youdidn’t want to be around me. I guess you heard some stories about me from your sister. Anyway, I’m going to head off, but you have a fun evening,” Chris said softly. The butterflies in her belly were flapping out of control now. She had to prevent him from leaving.
Chapter Eleven
“Balls,” Lucie shouted abruptly,
Chris stopped suddenly, and his mouth dropped. “Balls?”
