Word Count: 772
I think going ten pin bowling was one of the better ideas I’d had lately. Joe and Rayn were both smiling for once. In all honesty, I’d suggested it because I knew Rayn loved going when he could – it’d been total luck that Joe liked it too.
I didn’t mind that I was losing. They were happy enough playing against each other. What had started as best out of three had turned into best out of fifty or something stupid like that. I forgot how competitive Rayn could get. Phil used to take us when we were kids and he would play against Phil until he won. I’ve always been this useless at it.
“You might as well give up now,” I heard Joe saying. I’d sat down a while ago to enjoy a spliff and a drink while they played.
“Who’s winning?” I called over to them, watching Rayn score a strike for the fourth time in a while. So far this game was equal, according to the crosses on the screen above them, but I had already lost count of how many games they’d actually played. I was too stoned to keep track of time.
“Me. I’ve won five games. Rayn’s only won three,” Joe said, earning himself a sideways glare from Rayn who was stood there with a heavy ball in his hands. If I was the praying type, I might have muttered a quick one for Joe’s feet. Rayn’s never been a good loser. He’s never been a good winner either, to be honest.
“Rayn, you’re out of shape,” I tutted, hiding a laugh. Rayn probably wouldn’t do Joe much damage, but he wasn’t exactly shy of giving me a black eye if he thought I deserved it.
“I will win,” Rayn said in that determined voice that told me he wasn’t going to leave until he’d won.
“Dream on,” Joe laughed.
“You’ve never tried beating this guy at something. He’s one determined little fucker,” I warned him.
“I have something of a competitive streak, too,” he replied.
“I can spend all day playing ten pins, bitch,” Rayn said, using those plastic chairs as a boost so he could reach up and slap the back of Joe’s head.
“So can I!” Joe announced. That game, Rayn scored nothing but strikes, like the little freak he is. Joe seemed to take it in his stride, asking if Rayn wanted another game.
“I only have to win two more and I’ve beaten you. Are you sure you’re willing to risk it?” Rayn challenged him, glaring like a kid that’s just been deprived of pudding.
“PREPARE TO LOSE!”
“Children, behave,” I chuckled, lighting a cigarette. I watched Joe through my cloud of smoke as he stared all dramatically down the lane at the pins. He brought the ball back and up and sent it flying down the lane, scattering all ten pins at the back wall.
“That is how it is done,” Joe said smugly as Rayn waited for the machine to reset the pins. When it was done, Rayn picked up the pink ball he’d taken a liking to and turned to stand at the top of the lane, pulling a stupid ass face as he mimicked Joe’s movements exactly. “Yeah, that’s right,” Joe said as Rayn got another strike, “learn from the best.” That earned him another slap from Rayn to the back of the head.
“Your turn, bitch,” Rayn smiled sweetly. It was hard to believe that someone that looked like Rayn would ever cuss.
“Who are you calling a bitch, you sore loser?” Joe retorted, adding to his string of strikes.
“He’s a sore winner too,” I laughed.
“Too bad he isn’t gonna win any time soon.”
“Just you watch, Ginger,” Rayn scowled, throwing his ball down the lane like a grumpy child.
“That was nice, but let me show you how a /professional/ does it.” The bantering went on for the rest of the game. Which, by the way, Rayn won. Making their score a tie.
Both of them were getting really into it. The looks on their faces were matching ones of ‘I’m going to win this, I know I am’. We ended up spending the whole day in there, just fucking around and forgetting that the world outside the building existed. None of us wanted to leave, or for the day to end. When they got bored of bowling – Joe won, Rayn sulked – we took to the arcade. I found a staff ID and took all the money out of the cash registers and let them loose with fistfuls of coins.