Right. Obie is just being practical, as usual. Chester really has to stop expecting—stophopingfor—anything else. “Don’t worry,” he says, patting Obie’s cheek in a way that he hopes is both comforting and patronizing. “You’re not getting out of this relationship that easily.”
Obie’s lips twitch as Sasha drags her feet back towards them, morose. “Oh, I’ve noticed,” he sighs, strolling over to the ball return and picking up his next bowling ball.
Chester shifts to one side to get a better view, trying to watch how Obie does it. Bowling looks simple enough—just use the ball to knock down the pins—but the team has bemoaned oil patterns and sticky approaches and swollen fingers enough that Chester knows it’s more complicated than it appears.
Plus, judging by the fact that Obie only manages to knock over one sad pin in the course of two throws, Chester figures it has to be at least a little more difficult than it seems.
Trevor groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Oh, man, this isrough.Where’s Maggie to save us when we need her?”
Sasha checks her cell phone, frowning. “She texted the group chat earlier to say that she’ll be working late, but she hasn’t reached out since then. I guess we’ll just be bereft of our second-favorite demon tonight.”
Obie grins. “Oh? And who’s yourfirst-favorite demon?”
Chester jumps in before Sasha can respond. “Cassius Chin. Have you seen the biceps on him? Wowza.”
Obie looks scandalized. Sasha and Trevor cackle in unison, sounding for all the world like they’re both the evil twin of their siblinghood. “Nice one, Kyle,” Trevor says, giving him a high five.
“You’re going to be the death of me, puppy,” Obie complains, but he’s clearly stifling a smile. “And I’m totally telling Cass you said that.”
“Go for it. I’m sure JJ will agree with me.”
“Aw, it’s so nice that you’ve met Obie’sotherfriends,” Sasha says, giving Obie a pointed look. “His other friends who he never brings here to meetus.”
“I’ve tried, okay?” Obie argues. “I’ve been trying for years. I’ve gotten them into the alley once or twice, but they refuse to show up on league nights. Maggie is the only one I’ve ever convinced.”
“And, of course, we have our man Kyle,” Trevor says, clappingChester’s shoulder. “Just you wait. We’ll have you conned onto our team in no time.”
Chester rolls his eyes. “Yeah, not likely. I’ve never even picked up a bowling ball.”
All three bowlers turn to stare at him, aghast.
“What?” Chester says defensively. “I was—I was homeschooled. Bowling was never part of the curriculum.”
“Okay, no,” Sasha says, grabbing his arm to drag him towards the approach despite his protests. “You’re bowling. You’re a bowler now. Congratulations! We’re all losing tonight, anyway, so it won’t matter if you’re awful.”
Chester snorts. “Gee, thanks.”
Grandly, Trevor passes a bowling ball to Chester. “So you put three fingers inthesethree holes,” he explains seriously, demonstrating the simple task like it’s advanced astrophysics. “The same greasy fingers you use to eat George’s mozzarella sticks and curly fries.”
“And the same fingers you lick after eating said mozzarella sticks and curly fries,” Sasha adds.
“I’m shocked that Redwater Bowl hasn’t been taken out by a plague yet,” Chester says.
Trevor scoffs. “Biology doesn’t exist here,” he says, and he points towards the ten pins at the end of the lane. “Now, I want you to step forward, swing your arm, and release the ball once it’s close to the floor, okay? Easy-peasy.”
“Just make sure you follow through,” Sasha says.
“And make sure you aim.”
“And also make sure?—”
“I don’t know, guys,” Chester interrupts, hefting the bowling ball in his hands. It’s honestly heavier than he expected, especially since Obie deactivated his Sanctum enchantments for the night. “This sounds complicated. Can we put up gutter rails or something?”
Sasha turns to Obie, appalled. “All right. I’m done here. He’s your problem now.”
Rolling his eyes, Obie steps forward. “Just give it a shot, puppy,” he says, nodding down the lane. “See how you do. No need to be perfect—hell, no need to even be halfway decent.”
The words make a strange thread of anticipation shiver through Chester. Sure, he’s noticed over the past few weeks that Obie’s team in particular seems to care more about having fun than achieving technical perfection, but?—
