Meeting Mary Jane
Page 7
“Hey Lex.”
“Hi Daniel.” Thank god the music is loud enough to drown out my beating heart. Now all I need to do is play it cool and forget that this guy ever broke my heart. Just say hello and then goodbye and go about my freaking day, forgetting this ever happened.
“So how old is he?” Daniel asks.
“What?” I really wish I could just hit the rewind button and never have walked into this bowling alley tonight.
His eyes glance toward the right. “That guy you’re with. He looks old.”
“He’s eighteen,” I say a bit defensively. Bluntz had told me he was eighteen, but with his flawless post-puberty skin and unkempt long hair that totally doesn’t fit into the Lawson High School dress code, he could easily buy alcohol without getting carded. My chest clenches for a moment, wondering if he’s ever actually done that.
Daniel checks his cell phone, typing out a reply right in front of me as he wears this big smirk to let me know he’s chatting with another girl. I hold tightly to my facial expression that clearly says I don’t give a shit what he’s doing.
“Well good luck with that.” Daniel looks up and waves as his friends call him over to pick out a pair of bowling shoes. “I’m sure that guy is a total catch.” His sarcasm is thick in the air and the truth of what he says slaps me in the face.
Is Bluntz a total catch? I think he’s gorgeous and he’s nice to me. Nicer than Daniel ever was. Those two qualities mean a lot to me, but on the worldwide scale of what makes a guy a catch, where does recreationally smoking pot fall on the list compared to being scouted for college teams?
I plop a straw into the plastic lid on my drink and walk back to our lane. My friends are focused on their game so luckily no one sees me approach. I hope this means no one saw me talking to my asshole of an ex-boyfriend.
I sink into the plastic chair next to where Bluntz was sitting before he got up to bowl and place my drink next to his half-eaten nacho smorgasbord. My stomach hurts as I think about Daniel’s rude words and I hate that someone as pathetic as him has now made me question my own sanity. Am I wasting my time with my silly crush on Bluntz?
The clash of pins hitting the floor catch my attention as the gorgeous guy at the front of our lane throws his fist in the air and high-fives Jordan. Looks like Bluntz just got a strike. He meanders through the crowd of my sort-of friends who are all happily in their own world, not thinking about drugs and not wondering if their stupid crush is for nothing.
I smile as he slides into the chair next to mine, throwing his arm around my shoulders like it’s an everyday thing. The feeling of his skin on mine is like an instant medicine to heal the pain of having seen Daniel again.
“You’re back,” he says, flashing me that gorgeous smile of his. “I missed you.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Amy Sparling is a Texas native with a passion for young adult literature. In her free time she participates in an unhealthy amount of Xbox playing, attends nerd conventions and reads books with her daughter. Amy Sparling is a pen name for author Cheyanne Young.
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