“I see everyone’s here!” I cheerily bounce into a seat next to him and unlace my shoes. I glance over, as if seeing him for the first time. “Alright, which one of you’s been dabbling in demon summoning and hasn’t told me about it?”

Avery rolls her eyes and takes out a flask of, presumably, alcohol, and dumps it into her soda.

“Nice to see you in something other than prostitute clothes,” Jack says.

“You’d know all about prostitute clothes, wouldn’t you?” I smile, and choose a bright pink ball before sitting down again. “Who –”

“I’m here because Kayla asked me,” He interrupts. “And I guessed your shoe size.”

“Accurate guess.”

“Your measurements are 38-28-36, and you’re 5’5. It’s not hard to guess a shoe size based on that.”

“And you know my measurements!” I clap my hands excitedly. “However did you guess those? Wait, let me think – you were staring at me!”

“I have a gift,” He says dryly. “For observation.”

“And for being extremely creepy.”

“Your prostitute outfit the other day was the first time you wore tight enough clothes for me to estimate correctly.”

“I would love to slap you right now, but I’m currently wielding a nine pound ball and I’m afraid that would be called murder.”

He half-laughs, half-scoffs, and gets up to pour himself a soda. I turn to Avery.

“So? Who’s winning?”

“Can’t you read numbers?” Avery sighs, and motions to the board. Jack is ahead of everyone by a good fifty points and they’re only in the fifth round, his card decorated with straight strikes.

“Look at all those X’s! It’s like a strip club sign! You’d almost think they had some kind of hidden meaning,” I muse aloud. Very loudly.

“The meaning that I’m winning?” Jack raises a brow.

“Or that you’re a stripper at a gay bar,” I announce.

“I’ve only stripped once, and it was for a woman, thank you very much,” Jack hisses.

“Yeah? Do tell.” Avery suddenly looks very interested. Jack makes a disgusted noise and stands to bowl his turn. Kayla bounces over to me.

“Aw, Kayla, look at you! Eager as a puppy and pretty as a picture. Not of a puppy. Because pictures of puppies sometimes look kind of slimy and you are not slimy and oh my god Wren are you wearing contacts?”

Wren coughs, and adjusts his shirt collar, eyes busy boring a nervous hole into the back of Jack’s head.

“Y-Yes? I just came from volunteering at the Salvation Army, so I didn’t have time to take them out. It’s good to see you. We thought you weren’t coming.”

“Oh I always come. Especially where I’m not wanted!”

Kayla frowns. “That’s not true. Um. Avery, um, you wanted her here, right?”

Behind Kayla’s back, I make a crazy cuckoo spiral around my head with my finger. Avery narrows her eyes, then smiles like a fox with its tail caught in a chicken coop door.

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever. Did you get the French club proposal, Wren?”

“Yes, I did. I’ve already looked over it. It’s nice you took me out to bowling and all, but I’m afraid I just can’t pass it. That much money for only the French club is pretty ludicrous.”

“Ludicrous? C’mon, sweetie,” Avery coos, running her finger up his chest. “You know I’ll put it to good use.”

Wren gulps. “Ah, still. No. I’m sorry, but I can’t sign off on it. You could start four new clubs with that much funding.”

“But they aren’t being started!” Avery snarls. “The money’s just sitting there! Why not give it to me?”

Jack bowls a spare. And has perfect form. He strides off the lane looking immensely smug and I slip a leftover cheesy nacho onto his chair the second before he sits down. He smirks at me, and I smirk back.

“Good work,” I say.

“You don’t need to tell me that. I always do well.”

I make a gagging motion to Kayla, who giggles and sits beside him.

“So, Jack! Are you good at other sports? Like, baseball? Or basketball?” She asks, doe-eyes wide.

“I played basketball in middle school.”

“Oh! That’s really cool!”

“I hated it.”

“Oh,” Kayla whispers.

I bowl my turn – a strike. To catch up, Avery bypasses everyone else’s turn on the computer and I bowl a few more times. Strike. Strike. Strike. Strike. Wren cheers, and with every strike I hear Jack getting more and more irritated as he answers Kayla’s innocent questions. Finally, when I turn around and sit for good, I notice Kayla’s gone, the sound of wailing coming from inside the nearby girl’s restroom. Avery looks impressed, as much as a china doll can form emotions like impressed, and Jack’s white-knuckled fists are on his knees. Wren high-fives me.

“You were awesome!”

“Thanks!”

“I’ve never…seriously, I’ve never seen anything like that! You have to teach me your secret.”

First of all, don’t be such a huge dork.

“Uh –”

Second, why is Kayla even hitting on Jack? Wren is way, way cuter and way nicer.

“Um, Isis – ” Wren clears his throat, flushing red.

I blink. “Hm? Did I say that outloud? Gotta get a handle on that!”

Wren laughs, and Avery snorts. Jack stands abruptly and pushes past me, grabbing his bowling ball and striding down the lane with newfound verve.

“Got another stick put up your butt? I didn’t know another one could fit, you’re so tight-assed!” I call.

“Be quiet,” He snaps. I turn back to Wren, who’s gone a little white.

“Everything okay?”

Wren nods. “Yeah. It’s just…been a long since I’ve been around Jack like this. I didn’t know he was coming, otherwise I wouldn’t have –”

“Yeah, me too. Too late now though, huh? No choice but to beat his ass and send him back to the eighth circle of hell whence he came.”

“Of course. I never back down from a good game of bowling.”

“Awesome. It’s you and me against the legion of darkness, then. Look, I better go check on Kayla. Be right back.”

The girl’s bathroom smells like hairspray and hand soap. Kayla is at the mirror, redrawing her makeup.

“Is everything, uh, mildly alright? Since I know it’s not okay. Since this is like, the four millionth time that jerk has made you cry.”

Her lip starts wibbling, and she drops her eyeliner and runs into my arms.

“He told me…he told me Wren and I would make a better match! He shoved me onto his ex-best friend, Isis!”

As she’s sniffling into my armpit, I feel my eyebrows raise. Hmm. Pigs are flying like jet planes right now and the moon must be blue, because Jack might actually be on to something. But I can’t say that in front of Kayla.

“Do you…do you like Wren at all?” I ask softly.

“He’s a nerd!” She wails. “A student council nerd who spends all his time with homeless people! And he’s not even close to Jack in terms of looks!”

“Ah yes, the great dilemma of looks over personality. We can’t have it all! Nobody’s perfect! We’re all shallow even if we don’t admit it! Cities will rise and fall and the universe will collapse from its own inevitable heat-death!”

“W-What?” She sniffs.

“I’m saying Wren is actually not that bad.”

“Oh. Okay. That was a lot of words.”

“Look, you’re gonna fix up your makeup, you’re gonna go out there, and you’re gonna have fun. Don’t let sourpuss-in-boots-that-are-cramping-his-toes-and-making-him-a-whiny-baby get to you! You’re beautiful –”

She glares.

“- uh, not beautiful! You’re funny! You’re adequately able to function! All good things on the dating checklist. Either Jack will wise up, or you’ll find someone else –”

The beginning of a wail escapes her lips, and I retreat.

“You will NOT find someone else! If you like this guy so much, shit, why don’t you just ask him out?”

“You don’t think I’ve tried that? I’ve asked him out fifteen times this year!”

“How?”

“Facebook.”

I slap my palm to my forehead. “I mean a real sort of ask, like walk up to him and form words.”

“What if he rejects me?”