Tim's mother is too young to die, but she dies anyway--in a video that goes viral. Tim scrambles to hold his life together, but the person who keeps him on his feet turns out to be his half-sister, a fiesty girl who has no idea they're related, but...
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On the screen above the lane, animated bowling pins leap into the air and attempt to run away from a bowling ball that turns out to be a bomb. Strike. For Chaos. Again.
Billy and I are both stuck in the tacky time warp shoes, propped on the plastic neon chairs splitting the best chili cheese fries this side of the equator.
Chaos hoots over the crashing of pins. "By my calculations, you'd have to get strikes for the rest of the game to catch up to that." He struts back in his suave bowling shoes he bought for league bowling. The clash between his board shorts and bowling shoes is ridiculous and excellent.
Bam-O-Rama is just like any other bowling alley with the painted mural walls and crashing pins and the glow-bowl Saturday nights. There's all the same time warp décor you come to expect in a bowling alley, playing the pop-iest summer playlist over the tinny speakers unless someone chucks a couple loonies into the jukebox for something better.
Sari's parents own the place. Most people come for the diner more than the bowling.
"We can't, actually. At all," Billy deadpans, dragging himself to his feet.
Chaos shrugs. "Neither of you could bowl straight strikes anyway."
I make a face at him. There are a great many things Chaos is better at than me, but at bowling, he is the most insufferable.
Sari floats over to our table, untying her apron from around her waist as she drop into the seat next to me.
"You're doing better than usual," she notes, giving me an encouraging smile.
"Thank you! At least someone's noticed." I look pointedly at Chaos who is currently stuffing as many fries as he can into his mouth. Billy's shoes clack loud against the floor as he stalks back to the table. The score is pretty clear: he's cemented his position in last place for this game.
"Hey! It's whatshername." Chaos gestures via jerky head motions. His hands are too occupied by French fries to use.
"Vivian," Billy fills in, squinting through his glasses at the door.
