“I’ll try, but no promises,” Zoey said cautiously, but a spark of hope lit up her heart anyway. She headed over to Poppy, who had come back inside and was gingerly placing the wet rental shoes on thick towels to dry.
“Hey, Poppy? My friends want to help repair the damage so they can still hold the bowling championship here. The other center in town won’t have power for a while. It’s in worse shape than us! What do you think? They could help us fix everything!” Zoey said. Poppy didn’t answer. The wet shoe in his hand seemed to consume his full attention.
“Poppy! POPPY!” Zoey waved a hand in front of his face.
“Hmm?” Poppy finally looked up, but his gaze seemed faraway.
“My friends will help us fix up Gonzo’s! We can still host the tournament tomorrow and save the bowling alley!”
Poppy breathed out so hard his entire body deflated.
“Ay, mija, it’s too late. There’s no point either way. I just didn’t want to worry you.” He glanced back down at the wet shoe.
“What do you mean?” Zoey asked.
“I owe more on the mortgage than I can possibly make in one day from the bowling championship,” Poppy admitted, looking ashamed. “It was never going to be enough. I just saw you so happy with your new friends.…”
It took a moment for Poppy’s words to sink in. “Oh,” Zoey finally said, her voice tiny.
Dad materialized out of nowhere beside them and cleared his throat.
“Rafael, I know we’ve had our differences, but believe me, if anyone understands what you’re going through, closing a business down, it’s me,” Dad said softly over Zoey’s shoulder. Zoey jumped. She hadn’t realized her father was even listening.
“And you’re more than welcome to move with us to New York, if you want to get away and start somewhere fresh,” Dad said.
Poppy looked at Dad like he’d never seen him before.
“Ah, gracias, Michael. I will… think about it,” he said, and fell back onto his stool, clutching the wet shoe. He stared down at the wet floor.
Zoey couldn’t take seeing Poppy this defeated, drowning in three inches of flood water.
“I forgot a few things I need in the office,” she lied. “Can you help me carry them, Dad?” She didn’t wait for his answer but headed down the hall to the closet with Poppy’s desk and computer.
Dad followed. His eyes skimmed the bare office. Zoey noticed that Poppy had already started to take down the framed family photos that had hung on the wall behind his desk for decades. They sat in a cardboard box on his rolling chair, dusty and faded. Just like he said, Poppy had accepted losing Gonzo’s before the storm, before even waiting to see whether the Summer Big Bowl Championship would magically be enough to turn things around.
“What’d you forget?”
“I’m not going to New York City with you,” Zoey blurted, cutting Dad off and trying to rein in the anger and sadness running wild through her veins. She took a deep, calming breath and did her best to speak evenly.
“I don’t want to move,” she said, looking him earnestly in the eyes. “I have real friends for the first time, like, ever. And they’re all on this bowling team, and they’re counting on me to hold the summer championship at Gonzo’s, and I can’t let them down, and—”
“I’m sorry, Zo, but you’ll make new friends next year. I’ve missed you while I’ve been gone.”
“But not enough to call or text me?” Zoey shot back.
Dad scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. “I’m not a phone person, and I knew you were safe and sound with Poppy.”
Once Zoey would have accepted this explanation, but now his words just sounded like an empty excuse. She inhaled deeply, focusing her thoughts.
“If you think I’m safe and sound here then why take me away?” she said. Before Dad could answer, she continued, “I like seeing Poppy every day. I hate moving all over the place and never feeling like I have any real friends or family, except for you and José. And I’m really, really sick of chasing your dreams. I’ve been chasing your dreams my whole life. Aren’t I allowed to have some dreams of my own?” Zoey paused and saw that for once she had Dad’s full attention. She thought back to what Poppy had said a few days ago about how she should take her time picking her dream. Looking at Dad’s frowning face, she suddenly knew what hers was.
Taking another deep breath, she said, “Honestly, I think my dream is just to have the freedom to choose what I want. And right now, what I want is to stay and help Poppy hold the Summer Big Bowl Championship.”
“Zoey, I know leaving is hard and I’m sorry we’ve had to move so much. But I really think once you get to New York City, you’ll feel differently.”
Any other time Zoey would have given in, but she had made up her mind—she wasn’t backing down.
“You’re not making José leave with you.” Zoey stuck out her chin defiantly.
Dad squared his shoulders and straightened up, the way he always did with José to assert his authority. And yet, Zoey thought, Dad’s military posture never won him much respect from her brother. Frankly, it wasn’t doing much to earn hers, either.
“José is eighteen and heading to college soon. You’re too young to decide these things for yourself. I am your father,” Dad said, his voice more stern than before.
“Do you even have a place for us to live on our own in the city yet?” Zoey asked, crossing her arms over her chest and trying to stand as tall as she possibly could too. “Or are we just going to be crashing on couches at your friend’s place?”
“I talked to him. There’s a futon with your name on it,” Dad said, in a tone that pitifully attempted to upgrade “futon” to “five-star hotel.”
“Is his apartment in a good school district? Have you registered me for class? How long are we staying with your buddy? Am I supposed to switch schools two weeks into the school year when we move to our own place?”
Dad opened his mouth to reply, but Zoey caught him nervously jamming his hands in and out of his pockets, and she knew that meant the answers to all her questions were “no” or “I don’t know.” She dug in further.
“I bet there isn’t enough cash in your wallet to buy a week of groceries. You’ve invested everything back into your job, right?” When Dad didn’t say anything, Zoey went in for the kill. “If Mami were still alive, what would she think about how you’re treating us?”
Dad sucked in his breath sharply like she’d just punched him. He looked away as if ashamed, and a wave of guilt and sadness washed over Zoey. She hadn’t wanted to bring Mami into this, to hurt him, but she couldn’t think of any other way to get through to him. When Dad looked back at her there were tears glistening at the corners of his eyes. He reached into the box and pulled out a picture of him and Mami stuffing cake into each other’s mouths at their wedding. He stared at Mami with such longing that Zoey couldn’t stand it anymore. She walked past her dad and marched out, back into the arcade.
She went over to Poppy. Her friends stood huddled by the entrance and flashed her hopeful thumbs-up signs. Nodding thanks for their support, Zoey slipped Poppy’s wrinkly, age-spotted hand in hers and gave it a squeeze.
“Gonzo’s has been your dream for too long, Poppy. We’re not letting it go. At least, not yet. We’re going to try to save it one last time,” she said.
He stared at her for what felt like a while.
“All right, jefa. For you, we can try one last time,” Poppy said finally. From his tone, Zoey could tell he’d agreed simply because he was too worn down to argue. But she didn’t care, so long as Poppy was on board.
14
Dad left Gonzo’s without saying goodbye to either Zoey or José. But Zoey was too busy to dwell on his abrupt departure. Once cell service was back, she spent the morning on the phone, calling half the members of the bowling league and their parents. Patrick called the other half. Together, they convinced everyone to come help fix up Gonzo’s so that the championship could go on tomorrow as ori
ginally planned. At first, Poppy sat glassy-eyed in the corner, watching the dozens of volunteers streaming in through his broken door. But by noon, he was smiling and joking with the crowd, shouting directions and handing out soda cans and pizza slices during the informal lunch break. Zoey was relieved to see him in better spirits.
She was surprised when Eric and his team showed up to lend a hand too. They’d seemed so mean at the fancy bowling center across town, and here they were now showing such kindness. It turned out the Lightning Strikers weren’t just great bowlers and steep competition, they were hard workers, too. Eric’s father was a contractor and, apparently, a repair and renovations genius, and his office with all of his equipment was only a few blocks away. And Aiden, one of Eric’s teammates, had a much older brother who was an IT guy for big companies. He came by after work to pitch in as well.
“Thank you so much for helping my Poppy out. It’s really generous of you. I’m Zoey. What’s your name again?” Zoey said to Aiden and his brother.
“I’m Zach,” Aiden’s brother said, jamming his phone into his pocket so fast he dropped it on the floor. Thankfully, they’d already brought in some fans and water pumps or else the phone would have been ruined by water. Zoey bent down to pick it up for him, but he snatched it brusquely out from under her.
“Um, sorry?” Zoey said, not sure what she was apologizing for, but feeling like she had to say something to fill the awkward silence that suddenly descended between them.
Zach cleared his throat. He had short, sandy hair, parted to the side, which must have been sprayed into place because not a single one moved as he talked. With his pale, nearly translucent skin, he reminded Zoey of a mannequin in the men’s section of the department store where Dad had bought an interview suit last year.
“I have confidential stuff on my phone,” he said.
Aiden smirked. He had straight hair parted just like his brother’s, but his moved when his head nodded. “Yeah, my brother has to keep client stuff secret.”
“Oh, okay,” Zoey said, feeling like she was missing something.
“I’m almost done fixing the scorers,” Aiden’s brother said, looking past Zoey at the monitors overhead. He tapped his white slip-on sneaker on the floor. She got the impression he wanted her to leave.
“Okay, well, um, thanks again!” she said, turning to go and almost colliding with Isa. Lacey was with her too.
“Does Aiden’s brother seem weird to you guys?” Zoey whispered as they walked away.
“He looked kind of cranky when he was talking to you. Like, he had frown lines on his forehead,” Lacey said. “And he seemed relieved when you turned around to go.”
“Right? And I was just thanking him for all his help,” Zoey said. “I can’t figure it out.”
Isa shrugged. “The guy works with computers all day. He’s probably not much of a people person. At least he’s here helping, right?”
“Right,” Zoey said, wondering why she had such a bad feeling about Zach. Maybe it was just that he reminded her of the month Dad worked in IT. Dad had come home complaining every day about how he couldn’t be expected to take orders from millennials who had no idea what the real world was like and lived behind their phone screens ordering avocado toast.
“Stop worrying. We have a fun surprise,” Isa said, rocking on the balls of her feet.
“What? I need to touch up the paint trim damaged by the flood water,” Zoey said, moving in the direction of the rental counter where she’d left the paint and brushes.
“And you will, but first, we’re stealing you for a minute,” Lacey said. She and Isa grabbed Zoey’s elbows, mumbling “shhh,” and snuck out the back door. A sleek silver sedan that probably cost as much as Poppy’s whole house waited in the alley outside.
“If that’s the car you’re kidnapping me in, then I’ll go willingly,” Zoey joked.
“Good. Because that’s kind of what we were planning,” Lacey said seriously, giving a thumbs-up to the driver, who Zoey realized was Lacey’s older sister.
“What?” Zoey turned to Lacey, annoyed, and shook her arm free. “I was kidding. We have so much work to do before tomorrow!”
“And we’re going to get it all done, we promise,” Isa said soothingly, flashing Lacey a warning look. “But we realized we don’t have team shirts. Now that the roads are cleared, we’ll just go really fast to the mall and pick some out. We’ll be back before anyone notices we’re gone. And we’ll have our cell phones. They’ll call us if they need us.” Isa waved her phone in the air.
“No. You guys go without me. I’ll just wear whatever you choose—within reason,” Zoey said, noticing the designer emblem on Lacey’s tee and realizing she might not be able to afford a uniform selected by Lacey.
“Nooo, it won’t be any fun without you. This will take, like, half an hour. Forty-five minutes max. Come on, please,” Isa said, making puppy eyes.
“Yes, let’s go,” Lacey urged.
“Fiiine,” Zoey gave in, and grudgingly climbed into the plush leather back seat of Lacey’s sister’s car. Remembering her promise to Poppy to keep him posted on her whereabouts, Zoey texted to let him know where she was going. She sighed as she hit send, feeling guilty for skedaddling off on a spontaneous shopping trip for herself when every second should be used on making Gonzo’s sparkle. Zoey leaned back against the buttery leather headrest and listened to Isa and Lacey chatting about their favorite athletes’ game day outfits in every sport from gymnastics to tennis. She sighed. For about the millionth time, Zoey wished she didn’t have to worry about her family so much and could be as chill as her friends.
* * *
“Ooo, what about this one? I like the zippers on the sides. And the purple matches my favorite bowling shoes,” Lacey said, picking up a plain white tee. A few unimaginative lavender stripes on the sleeves did not, in Zoey’s humble opinion, warrant the thirty-five-dollar price.
“Too expensive,” Zoey groaned, showing Lacey the tag. As she’d predicted, Lacey didn’t seem to have a budget. And even though she’d announced she could only afford twenty bucks, that didn’t stop Isa from wanting to play dress-up and try on all the clothes she couldn’t afford either. Zoey tapped her foot impatiently—this was taking too long.
“How about this one?” Isa asked, holding up a collared black shirt with red color blocks that at least looked more like the search results on Zoey’s phone when she’d Googled “bowling shirt.”
“How much?” Zoey asked, rubbing her belly. Her stomach felt like it was full of stones. Just standing in the airy, organized portion of the juniors section was too much. The rare times Zoey had ventured into this store with Dad or José, she’d headed straight to the messy sales racks at the back and flipped through the marked-down clothes, hoping a cute top would magically appear with a price tag she could afford.
“Twelve bucks.”
“Okay, let’s try it on.” Zoey exhaled, sighing and calculating that if they settled on that shirt she’d have about six or seven dollars in the world left to her name. But that was yet another problem that would have to wait till after the championship.
“Great! These too!” Lacey said, materializing out of nowhere with a massive armful of tops. “I didn’t know what size you were, Zo,” she called over her shoulder as she made a beeline toward the dressing rooms. “So I just grabbed all of them.”
“Great,” Zoey said glumly, following her.
The individual changing stalls didn’t have mirrors. To assess their selection, shoppers had to venture outside to a giant three-paneled mirror. Lacey and Isa spun and preened in front of the mirror, but then they were also short and thin and cute—Isa in her size S or XS, Lacey comfortably sporting a size M. Towering beside them, Zoey frowned at her reflection in the mirror. The black V-neck emblazoned with sequined fireworks hung on her like a trash bag someone decorated for the Fourth of July. She glanced at the price tag poking out of her sleeve—$19.99. Zoey grimaced. The last thing she wanted was to spend her la
st twenty bucks to look like a glittery garbage can.
“I think a size smaller might fit you better,” Lacey said, watching her. “What do you have on now?”
“XL. I picked the same size as most of the jerseys I got from José.”
“That explains it—you need different sizes depending on the cut and style of a shirt. Be right back,” Isa said. She dashed back into her dressing room and emerged victoriously holding another V-neck. “Here. I grabbed an extra medium.”
“No. It’ll be too tight,” said Zoey automatically, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Try a large then,” Lacey said, handing it to her. Zoey quickly changed and when she reemerged, Lacey said, “It looks better.”
“I don’t know.…” Zoey trailed off.
“If you don’t like it, we can try another shirt,” Isa suggested.
“Zoey, why don’t you pick something out that you might like?” Lacey offered.
Zoey looked through the pile and held up a striped shirt.
“Oh, I hate stripes,” Isa said. “I think they always make my boobs look too big.”
Zoey was surprised—Isa had never mentioned that she worried about her chest before.
“Well, I don’t want you to wear something you won’t feel good in,” Zoey said. “You guys should just pick something.”
“But you deserve to feel confident too!” Isa protested.
“I don’t think I’ll look good in anything, so it doesn’t matter,” Zoey said, sighing again.
“Seriously, Zo?” Lacey said, putting her hands on her hips. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“You wake up looking like a princess in a castle every day. You have no idea how hard it is to look like me!” Zoey snapped.
“Oh puh-leaze. Stop being such a drama queen,” Lacey shot back, rolling her eyes. “You think I don’t get judged all the time? I’ve had teachers, teachers, assume I was dumb just because of my style and appreciation for fashion. Also, I have a really big birthmark on my thigh that my sister used to say looked like I’d pooped myself.” Lacey shrugged, and the three girls laughed.
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