‘It’s not,’ Eli said.
‘You sound awfully sure of that,’ I told him. ‘So sure I have to wonder if you’ve done this kind of making-up thing before.’
He shook his head, taking a sip off his straw. ‘Nope. I have the opposite problem, actually.’
‘Which is?’
‘Too much of a childhood.’ We walked over to the truck, and he pulled his door open. ‘All I’ve ever done was goof around. I even managed to make playing a living.’
‘With the bike thing.’
He nodded. ‘And then you wake up one day, and you’ve got nothing of value to show for all those years. Just a bunch of stupid stories, which seem even stupider the more time passes.’
I looked at him over the top of the car. ‘If you really feel that way,’ I said, ‘then why do you keep encouraging me to do all this stuff?’
‘Because,’ he said, ‘you can always break curfew or have a slumber party. It’s never too late. So you should, because…’
He trailed off. By now, I knew not to fill in the gap.
‘… that’s not the case with everything,’ he said. ‘Or so I’m learning.’
Now, ahead of me, the lights were blinking over the pins, on and off. The lane stretched out ahead, the wood polished and worn, and I tried to imagine how, as a kid, it would look even longer, almost endless.
‘You’re overthinking,’ Eli called from behind me. ‘Just throw it down there.’
I stepped back, trying to remember his form, and swung the ball out in front of me. It took flight – which I was pretty sure was not supposed to happen – then landed with a loud thud. In the next lane. Before rolling, oh-so-slowly, into the gutter.
‘Hey!’ a voice bellowed from the smoking section. ‘Careful there!’
I felt my face flush, totally embarrassed, as the ball rolled to the end of the lane, disappearing behind the pins. A moment later, there was a thunk, and Eli appeared back beside me, holding it out to me.
‘I think I’d better not,’ I said. ‘Clearly, this is not my strong suit.’
‘It was your first shot,’ he replied. ‘What, you thought you’d get a strike or something?’
I swallowed. In fact, this was exactly what I’d thought. Or at least hoped for. ‘I just…’ I said. ‘I’m not good at this kind of thing.’
‘Because you’ve never done it.’ He reached over, taking my hands, and put the ball in it. ‘Try again. And this time, let go earlier.’
He went back to the bench, and I forced myself to take a deep breath. It’s just a game, I told myself. Not so important. Then, with this still in mind, I stepped forward and released the ball. It wasn’t pretty – wobbling crookedly, and very slowly – but I took out two pins on the right. Which was…
‘Not bad,’ Eli called out as the machine reset itself. ‘Not bad at all.’
We’d played two full games, during which he bowled constant strikes and spares, and I focused on staying out of the gutter. Still, I managed a couple of good frames, which I surprised myself by actually being kind of happy about. So much so that as we left, I plucked the score sheet from the trash can where he’d tossed it, folding it down to little square. When I looked up, I realized Eli was watching me.
‘Documentation,’ I explained. ‘It’s important.’
‘Right,’ he said, keeping his eyes on me as I slipped it into my pocket. ‘Of course.’
Outside, we walked across the rain-slicked parking lot to my car, leaving the blinking BOWL neon sign behind us. ‘So now you’ve done bowling, breaking curfew, almost getting your ass kicked at a party,’ he said. ‘What else is on the list?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘What else did you do for your first eighteen years?’
‘Like I said,’ he said as I unlocked the car, ‘I’m not so sure that you should go by my example.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I have regrets,’ he said. ‘Also, I’m a guy. And guys do different stuff.’
‘Like ride bikes?’ I said.
‘No,’ he replied. ‘Like have food fights. And break stuff. And set off firecrackers on people’s front porches. And…’
‘Girls can’t set off firecrackers on people’s front porches?’
‘They can,’ he said as I cranked the engine. ‘But they’re smart enough not to. That’s the difference.’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I think food fights and breaking stuff are equal-opportunity activities.’
‘Fine. But if you’re going to do the firecracker thing, you’re on your own. That’s all I’m saying.’
‘What,’ I said, ‘you afraid or something?’
‘Nope.’ He sat back. ‘Just been there, done that. Done the getting hauled down to the police station thing because of it, too. I appreciate your quest and everything, but I have to draw the line somewhere.’
‘Wait,’ I said, holding up my hand. ‘My quest?’
He turned to look at me. We were at a red light, no other cars anywhere in sight. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘You know, like in Lord of the Rings, or Star Wars. You’re searching for something you lost or need. It’s a quest.’
I just looked at him.
‘Maybe it’s a guy thing,’ he said. ‘Fine, don’t call it a quest. Call it chicken salad, I don’t care. My point is, I’m in, but within reason. That’s all I’m saying.’