Before the Morning [BEING EDITED]

20 | The Bowling Alley

"Okay, who changed my name to Ginger Jesus?"

Nolan pointed his camera at the culprits, who were doing their best—and failing—to hide their giggles behind tight lips and shirt sleeves. He had to hand it to the girls: they were pretty creative, given that this was easily the twenty-seventh time Andy's name had been swapped out on the screen.

"Oh, you girls think you're so funny," Andy drawled, pointing an accusing finger at them. They made no move to proclaim their innocence, just laughed harder. "Mocking me, huh? We'll see who's laughing when I start singing."

"I'll sing with you," Willow said.

"Never mind."

"Thought so."

Nolan snorted and turned the camera back toward Willow. "Okay," he said. "Ready?"

She nodded and shifted in her seat, her smile immediately falling. She bounced her leg up and down, nibbling her fingernail.

Nora hopped out of her seat and grabbed a slice of pepperoni pizza from their table. She seemed to be back to her normal self, all signs of the earlier tension gone. He was relieved, but also unsure, unable to help but search her face for any sign of distress. Nothing.

As he filmed, the others played their game like normal. Andy, Max, and Erin were free to joke around as they normally would, while Willow was to stay in character. During the second game, she'd be allowed to laugh freely, but for now, if she wanted to laugh, it had to look like it was done to disguise what was going on inside her head.

"Booyeah!"

Nolan shifted the camera toward Max as he cheered, jumping victoriously in the air. He glanced around the camera, at the lane. A strike.

Back to Willow as she reacted in character. Her smile was hidden by her fist. She gave him a thumb's up.

Max hopped off the platform and clapped a hand on Andy's shoulder. "Your turn, Ginger Jesus," Max said. "Top that, eh?"

"Setting me up for disappointment, huh?" Andy asked.

"Of course."

Andy scoffed and grabbed a bowling ball. As he approached the lane, Nora slipped into the seat Andy had just vacated. "Like a ninja," she whispered.

A loud crash snapped everyone's eyes back to the lane. Laughter bubbling in Nolan's throat, he zoomed in on Andy—now on the floor, his ball rolling toward another lane.

"Well," Max teased, "it looks like something can top a strike."

"Shut up!"

Nolan's snicker cut short, his friends' conversation falling away as his gaze latched on the front desk. He lowered the camera. A young blond stood with his mom, pushing a pair of bowling shoes across the counter. At first, Nolan wasn't sure, but then the kid turned.

Nolan had only ever seen Johnny at times like this, when he happened upon him in public. He wasn't much—just as small as any other eight-year-old, just as short. He had dirty-blond hair and tan skin, and he was clad in a pair of worn Adidas.

What would happen if Nolan marched over there and told Johnny's mom what her son had been doing? He itched to do it. Did she already know?

"Nolan?"

He didn't look away from Johnny as he and his mom left the building, glass door shutting behind them.

"Nol? Are you okay?"

Fingers were on his arm, featherlight, and he turned. Nora searched his face, concern spread freely. "Fine," he muttered.

Her eyebrows creased, but she nodded and gestured toward the score board. "Game's over," she said. "Willow okay to be herself?"