“Okay… I pick… Uncle Brad!” He shouts and jumps onto Brad’s lap.
“Well, that was a waste of 12 hours of labour,” Emily grumbles.
“Your turn, Auntie Anca.”
“Okay, let me see. I pick Sebastian!”
“Cool, why me?” He asks as he wanders over to join me.
“Um, ‘cos it looks like you might’ve been picked last for teams in high school, and I didn’t want to give you traumatic flashbacks!”
“I’d be offended. If it weren’t true.” Seb hangs his head.
“Okay, Benny, you’re up again.”
“Okay… I pick…Uncle Jez.”
“Right on, buddy! We are gonna crush ’em.” Jez holds up his hand for a high five.
“It’s not too late for adoption, you know?” Emily says, tapping on her son’s shoulder to get his attention, which he ignores, giving his full attention to his dwindling bucket of fries..
“Okay, my turn and… Emily, it is!”
“Hooray!!” She yells and we fist bump, barely making contact and almost punching each other in the face.
“Aw, Mommy, I was going to pick you next.” Ben says, looking sad.
“Well, next time you should pick me earlier. Okay, now hurry up, your turn, Uncle Marius or Auntie Cadence.”
“I pick…”
“No need to say it, buddy, I got your back,’ Marius cuts in and jumps over to stand by Ben.
“…Auntie Cadence!” Ben announces.
“Wha?” Marius stops in his tracks, shocked.
“Sorry, Uncle Marius, but she makes the best jam sandwiches. She puts lots of ice cream in them”
“But jam sandwiches don’t have ice cream in them.”
“And that’s why you’re the last person to be picked for a team,” Cadence taunts Marius and pushes him back over to my side.
“Aunt Anca, it’s your turn!” Ben declares gleefully.
“Yeah, thanks. Not much of a choice, is it?” I pretend sneer and look Marius up and down, trying not to let a grin break out.
“Hey. I’m a master at this “balling” thing. I am gonna. Win. This. You’ll ALL be eating your words.” He grabs a ball and walks up to the lane,” Now, what are those white things at the end of the catwalk?”
***
It turns out, Marius is actually quite good.
So good, in fact, that about half way in, he’s way ahead of anyone else and has about the same amount of points as the rest of us on the team combined.
I, on the other hand, have contributed about 2% of the total score.
And they’re not letting me forget it.
“Aaaaand…she’s up. Godzilla’s foot stand-in, taking her position on the lane. Will she or won’t she… actually get the ball halfway down the lane, is what betters are putting their money down on.” Marius stands behind me, invisible microphone in his hand, adding infuriating commentary.
“You’re supposed to be on MY team,” I grumble.
“I am on your team. I’m also funny.”
I snort and almost drop the ball on our feet. “You’re deluded is what you are.”
“Hurry up! We already know you’re just going to get it into the gutter,” Jez rushes me.
“Yeah, but we don’t know which one,” Sebastian calls out. “I vote the one in the next lane like she did on the last bowl.”
“HEY!” I cry out, offended. I’m missing that warm welcome they gave me last night.
“It’s okay, honey. You just take your time.” Cadence says supportively, then adds, “It’s not like I have a plane to catch in 12 hours or anything.” Traitor.
“Ok, look, you’re just not holding the ball right,” Marius says, pressing up closer behind me. His hand suddenly reaches around, pressing his hands against mine, gently guiding my fingers into position. “See? You’ve got the wrong fingers in the wrong holes.”
“Oi, we have a kid here! Keep it PG, people!” Brad yells out and Sebastian snorts so hard he chokes on his drink.
“Shut it! That’s my sister.” Jez hisses.
“Ignore them.” Marius’s voice is low, and it’s like he’s inside my brain whispering to me. I squirm a bit, not sure how to feel about him being so close. My body’s burning hot and there’s nothing I can do about that.
He seems oblivious to my dilemma and just keeps guiding me. “Yup, that’s right. You’ve got to move your stance as well. Take bigger steps and then kind of drop your knee down and with that momentum swing your arm back and let go of the ball. You don’t really need to use too much energy.” As he talks, his hands move around. First, they slide down my arms and then they’re on my hips, his legs pushing mine to separate a bit. And then they’re on my waist again as he guides my body motions.
But his voice, his lips, are always right there against my ear, his breath on my neck.
I swallow hard. I can barely make out the words that he’s saying, but I’m trying to concentrate on them… and not on him.
“Ahem,” I clear my throat when I realize he’s stopped talking for a moment, and waiting for me to reply. “Yeah, um, thanks. Okay. I’ll give that a try.”
“Okay, go on, I’ll help,” he nods, encouragingly.
He doesn’t step back, and I realize he’s going to move with me.
I take a step forward.
“Yup, you got it, wider steps,” he directs.
I feel myself lunging forward, almost losing my balance, and I feel his hands steady me at the waist.
“Whoa, I said a bit, not do the splits.” He chuckles a little and then I hear him clear his throat as well.
“Okay, one more step. Sing your hand back and… let go.”
I drop my knee and swing. He’s so close I swear I feel his chest and his groin graze against my back as I move. The ball falls onto the lane with a dull, heavy thud, but it gains speed and rolls down the lane. Everyone is silent as we watch it slowly hit the pins and they fall. All of them. Every single one.
“Oh my god!” I jump up and spin around, and he hasn’t moved. He’s still right there. I’m so excited I wrap my arms around his neck and press a kiss to his cheek.
His eyebrows jump up but his arms slide around me, pulling me tight against him. The conflicted look in his eyes, though, instantly makes me let go and I almost step on his foot on my way down.
“Um, sorry.” I mumble, looking away, letting my hair fall in front of my face.
“It’s okay. Your feet aren’t that big.”