Scattered

“I am so jealous of your childhood,” Candie commented as she fell back against the floor, her legs propped up against the side of my bed with the rest lying limp across the carpet.

I was fortunate enough to earn an earful of ecstatic remarks from Candie on the way to the hotel, through the duration of a film we ordered on Pay-Per-View that I already couldn’t remember the name of, and while I lied in bed attempting to sleep. She found it completely necessary to mention how exciting Tre and Mike were after the whole ten minutes she had spent with them. And although I agreed with her that they were, indeed, very adventurous and entertaining, I was beginning to become increasingly annoyed with the fact that she just wouldn’t stop talking.

I continued to lie beneath my covers in my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling with a hand resting above my head as I waited for Candie to finally realize I was no longer listening. The key point my mind was focusing on was that I had seen Billie again, and more importantly, actually talked to him. I was just so surprised he’d remembered such an insignificant event, when I told him not to forget he met me on the outskirts of Christie Road just before I left town. Over the years, even I managed to overlook it. Although, one of my main goals I had set for myself after arriving in Florida was to repress and hopefully forget any painful memories.

I wasn’t one to overanalyze a situation, but this scenario happened to involve Billie. With him, everything should be looked over carefully or you’re bound to miss something incredibly vital. I felt as though he was a puzzle, and it was my job to find all of the pieces and put them together.

Yes. That’s what he was. He was my puzzle.

“Spencer, are you listing to me?” I heard Candie ask, startling me out of my thoughts. I turned to face her, noticing that she was sitting up again and scrutinizing me with narrowed eyes.

“No,” I said truthfully, making her sigh impatiently.

“Aren’t you excited? I mean, you got to see them again! Isn’t that something to celebrate?”

“Well, I don’t know,” I shifted uncomfortably, wincing as I thought about her question. “Not really, no.” I finally answered, vaguely shaking my head.

Her face fell. “What? Why not?” I eyed her out of my peripheral vision after returning my focus to the plastered ceiling. She resembled a puppy that had seen its owner brutally murdered.

My lips formed a thin, tight line at her never-ending curiosity. “Just—I don’t know,” I frowned, unable to comprehend my own thoughts to answer her correctly.

I was sure she rolled her eyes. “You’re going to have to give me more to go with than that, Spencer.”

I ignored her statement and muttered, “Would you stop calling me that?”

Candie huffed. I wasn’t positive if it was because I ignored her request, or because of what I said in general. “That’s the name your parents gave you, that’s the name that’s on your birth certificate, that’s the name that fits you most, and therefore, that’s the name I’m going to call you.” She paused, allowing her front teeth to absently dig into her lower lip. “Besides, ‘Beth’ was kind of a… clingy name. I never wanted to tell you in fear of upsetting you or dredging up any memories you were trying to suppress, but it’s true.”

I grunted , turning around to face the wall opposite her as I stuffed my head beneath a soft pillow. I just wanted to go to sleep. Was that so much to ask?

“Spencer—” Before she had the opportunity to pester me any further and for me to flinch at her choice of name, the hotel telephone began to ring loudly from the far side of the room, echoing infuriatingly off of the thin walls. I stuffed my face further into the blankets and pillows. I was never going to get any sleep.

I could faintly hear Candie getting up off of the floor and meandering over to the noisily ringing phone and picking it up off the hook, answering it.

She murmured to the person on the other line for a few moments as I laid motionless, slowly beginning to feel my eyelids fall. Maybe I would fall asleep after all. My face was hidden beneath the massive amounts of cotton blankets and feather pillows, it was warm and dark, and I was utterly comfortable. My muscles began to relax and I closed my eyes a bit tighter, as if the action would cause sleep to approach quicker.

My slumber-to-be was rudely interrupted, however, with my blankets being violently torn off of my body, causing my nearly bare limbs to meet the harsh temperature of the room. I hastily turned to face Candie and threw her a fierce glare, only to earn a ridiculously large grin in return as she gripped the black device so tightly to her ear that her knuckles were beginning to turn a vital shade of white.

I tore my eyes from her large smile that would put the Cheshire Cat to shame and glanced at the clock residing on the nightstand close by, raising my eyebrows at the red glowing digits. I finally asked myself why someone would be calling us at 2:49 in the morning.

The fact brought along another annoyed groan as I tossed my upper body back onto the bed. I really needed sleep.

After another brief moment of conversation between Candie and whoever had called, she thrust the phone into my face, the grin still intact.

“It’s for you,” She stated, her smile stretching impossibly further across her face.

“Oh, what now?” I murmured beneath my breath with irritation, snatching the phone away from her grip. I rapidly blinked my eyes a few times before putting the phone against my ear. I could hardly hold my eyes open. “Hello?” I sighed tiredly.

“Hola, stud!” I should’ve known.

“Tre?” I questioned a bit redundantly. I glanced at the clock a second time, purely out of habit. “Why are you calling me at 2:51 in the morning? Normal people would be asleep right now.”

Tre chuckled humorously on the other line. “I think you just insulted yourself.”

I rolled my eyes beneath my eyelids, as they were closed yet again. “No, because Candie has kept me up all morning. I’ve been trying to sleep, so she’s the crazy one.” Candie hollered an offended ‘hey!’ from within the closet she migrated into once I took the phone from her. “What do you want?”

“Yes, it’s nice to hear from you, too,” He retorted dryly. “But Iwanted to invite you to come bowling with us tomorrow—well,tonight!”

I furrowed my eyebrows. I almost questioned Tre’s sanity, but I knew that it’d be pointless since I was already fully aware he had none. “At three o’clock in the morning?”

“We’re nocturnal,” He said airily, shrugging my astounded question off. “So, can you? And bring the hot chick with you, too,” He added respectfully. “What was her name, Chocolate?”

“Candie,” I correctly him unenthusiastically.

Candie’s head appeared from behind the closet door. “What?” She asked upon hearing her name being mentioned. I waved her away, frustrated. She sighed pathetically before disappearing back into the closet.

“And I don’t know,” I returned to the original point. “We might have work at five—”

“We have the rest of the week off!” Candie helpfully reminded me, still somewhere within the labyrinth of her closet. I focused my hard gaze on the inch-opened door.

“Then it’s settled!” Tre announced happily, apparently having heard Candie’s statement. “So we’ll meet you tomorrow—wait, no,tonight—at seven. Toodaloo, stud!”

“I don’t—” I heard the dial tone and huffed miserably, ending the call before tossing it across the room. It hit the far wall with a dull thud and I stared after it.

“Um, what was that?” Candie’s muffled voice came from behind the closed door. When I didn’t answer, she emerged from the small room. She politely had no shirt on, and her chest didn’t possess any sort of material concealing it. Her decency astounded me. She never had any sort of problem with exposing herself to me, and I was thoroughly annoyed by it. “Was that Tre? Does he want to see us?” The large grin returned.

I flailed my arms around, tossing the blankets above my body as I turned away from her. “That’s it, I’m going to sleep!”

She laughed.


I complained like an ignorant child all the way to the Bowling Alley as Candie skipping gleefully alongside me. It’s not that I wasn’t looking forward to spending time with Mike and Tre, but all things considered, the situation at hand was bound to have a lot of dead air between us, which would only make matters uncomfortable. And I wasn’t good with handling anything of the sort.

By the time we reached the front doors to the building, it was nearing seven-thirty. Since Candie was thoroughly convinced that Tre was her long lost soul mate, she couldn’t find the “right” outfit to wear. I didn’t help her decide like I probably should’ve since her room was a warzone as she completely emptied the contents of her closet onto the floor.

Suffice to say, it was all Candie’s fault we were late and I was fully prepared to blame her if and when Mike and Tre brought it up.

“Come on, Spence,” Candie encouraged as we entered the Bowling Alley and prepared to pay for our shoes. “Turn that frown upside down!”

Ignoring her, I smiled gratefully at the clerk behind the desk as he handed us our bowling shoes in the sizes we requested. Candy leapt forward and I followed after her, dodging the many inhabitants within the Bowling Alley. It had quite the crowd that night.

When I finally caught up to the blonde after nearly losing her twice in the sea of ecstatic bowlers, I gripped the string of her sweater that was swinging from behind and used it as a makeshift leash.

“Are you just pretending to know where you’re going?” I asked her, raising my voice a bit over the noisy music and conversation.

She slowed down a bit, yanking the sweater string out of my grasp as she did so, giving me a look that suggested I had been abusing her in some way. “Tre said that they would be towards the back of the Bowling Alley as to not draw attention to themselves. Though, from what I’ve seen and stories you’ve told me, I don’t think their fame is what will be catching everyone’s eye.”

I nodded emotionlessly. “Yeah, and where did you get this speck of information from?”

Candie sighed impatiently. “When you went to get some ice down the hall, Mike called.”

Before she had the chance to mention anything else, she smiled brilliantly as she stared off into the distance. I followed her gaze and easily spotted Tre waving madly at us from the very last lane, wearing a pair of ridiculous blue and white vertical striped pants, a rainbow-colored tie-dye tee shirt, and a red suit jacket. With his green hair—that was currently sporting a faux hawk appearance—to top off his ensemble, I easily recognized how horribly he clashed.

Right when I was about to smile at Tre’s enthusiasm, when I was going to accept the fact that my old friends were back in my life again, right when I was going to relax, everything flipped and all the muscles in my body tensed as the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight.

He was there, sitting on one of the benches with his arm slung casually over her shoulders as he laughed at something Mike said, who was standing near the scoreboard. Even though he looked like he had just gotten out of bed with his blue hair standing up at odd ends, a careless faded navy blue tee shirt on with a pair of ripped black Dickies and ratty dark Converses that had definitely seen better days, I still found my mouth reluctantly watering.

I clenched my jaw as I continued forward. I had my line of vision set on Tre’s bouncing form, who had just finished greeting Candie and was ready to pounce as he eyed my warily approaching self.

“Spencer!” He exclaimed, running head-on into me. I allowed him a moment to wrap his arms around me, and I took the brief second in time to smell a strange aroma of fried chicken and bazooka bubblegum on his clothing, before rounding on him.

I grabbed his arms as he prepared to back away and speak. “You never told me he would be here,” I hissed ferociously, violently nodding my head towards the blue-haired male who had yet to notice myself or Candie’s presence.

Tre winced at the tone I used, but shrugged helplessly afterwards. “I’m sorry! He didn’t say he wanted to come at first, but right before we left he decided to tag along. And,” Tre added, a bit bitterly, “Whenever he wants to go somewhere, he always has to drag Adrienne with him.”

Despite my foul mood, I slumped my shoulders a bit in a form of inconspicuous glee. “You don’t like her?” I asked innocently, changing the subject a bit as I mindlessly nibbled on the inside of my cheek.

Tre sighed, tearing his gaze from mine for a moment, looking as though he regretted his words or had said too much. “No, it’s not that,” He finally answered, turning back to look at me. “Adrienne’s a nice girl and everything, but she’s just… always around,” He grimaced, like he tasted something sour. “Whenever we have to do something important, having to do with the studio or going on tour or something like that, she always comes with us. And not to sound like a dick or anything, but I’m kind of sick of her.”

I frowned, though it wasn’t because Tre partially insulted Billie’s girlfriend. “I used to always be around, too. Was I really that annoying?”

Tre grinned cheekily. “Nah, I was able to tolerate you.” He said, his playful side returning.

I shoved him lightheartedly, allowing myself to relax like I had originally planned to.

“Thanks,” I rolled my eyes sarcastically.

Tre’s response was in the form of a half-hug as he led me over to everyone else, Candie, Mike and Billie having already reacquainted themselves.


“Oh, fuck yes! Fuck yes, did you fuckin’ see that?”

“Dude, Tre, you only knocked down four pins.”

“That’s a lot coming from the guy who’s had two gutter balls.”

Mike’s frown was so deep, it nearly caused his lips to fall right from his face. His only response was by raising a certain finger, in which the drummer simply cackled and prepared to bowl again.

The bassist, whose spirits had drastically plummeted from the encounter, approached my seated figure at one of the benches near the scoreboard and invited himself down beside me. I offered a smile as he sighed pathetically, watching as Tre bowled and only succeeded in knocking down two more pins. It would’ve been three, but the third pin had only been skimmed by the ball and simply rocked a few times before it stilled.

Tre scowled darkly and proceeded to jump up and down in front of the lane, as if doing so would somehow knock over the remaining pins.

“What are we going to do with him?” Mike asked pitifully, nodding his head towards the faux hawked boy who accidentally sat one of his red high-top converses—no, he wasn’t wearing bowling shoes like everyone else was—on the lane and almost slipped. As he stood upright, he had an air of ‘I meant to do that’ as he reluctantly returned to the scoreboard, having accepted the fact that the rest of the pins weren’t going to fall any time soon.

I shrugged hopelessly, suggesting with an air of sarcasm, “Maybe we can slip him some sleeping pills after the game is over so we won’t have to worry about him for the rest of the night.”

Mike snorted. “Yeah, but then we’d have to carry his sorry ass out of the Bowling Alley. And since this is a family-oriented place, we’d have to convince the employees that he had too much fruit punch.” Mike said, though never openly disagreed with the idea.

“You have to admit,” I replied, raising one of my hands. “That fruit punch tasted funny.”

The corner of Mike’s mouth lifted in the form of a half-smirk. “We could just say it was poisoned.”

Before I could respond to Mike’s sly remark, Tre came bounding over to us, a victorious smile present on his lips as he took Mike’s arm and pulled him out of his seat.

“It’s your turn, Mikey-boy. Let’s see if you can do better than before.” He succumbed to being Mike’s shadow as he followed close behind him. So close, in fact, that if Mike wasn’t as tall as he was, Tre’s chin would’ve been resting on his shoulder. “And don’t feel bad,” Tre continued. Mike bent down to grab a bowling ball from the slot, grumbling beneath his breath as he did so. “You’ve gotten two gutter balls in a row so far. I don’t think getting another one will affect you much.”

Mike huffed and turned to face Tre. “Don’t you have anything else better to do than torment me to death?”

Tre only shrugged. “S’mah job, Pritchard.” He then nudged Mike forward, ignoring the piercing glare that was being thrown in his direction. “Now hurry your ass up, I want to see you crash and burn. Again.”

I unfocused my attention from them as a figure planted itself in Mike’s previous spot. I turned to face the person, expecting it to be Candie, and nearly falling out of my seat as the head of blue hair almost blinded me.

A grin worked its way on Billie’s lips as he watched me, most likely having thought my reaction was a result of something much more interesting than it actually was. “Hi there,” Was all he said. His arm was resting innocently on the back of my chair and I was afraid to lean back, though I knew my back would start to cramp after sitting in such a straight, stiff position for so long.

“Er—hi,” I replied. I felt a bit ridiculous with the short reply, but he didn’t give me very much to go with.

My answer didn’t deter him in the least, it seemed, as he looked fairly amused with the situation. “You having fun?” He asked, turning his attention briefly to his bandmates. Mike had yet to bowl because he felt the need to retort every time Tre mocked him. The bassist probably didn’t realize that he was only adding to Tre’s ammunition and was slowly seeping into the palm of the drummer’s hand.

I shrugged halfheartedly. “I suppose so. With them going at it, it makes things more interesting.”

“And when they go at it, they still seem to be ahead of the rest of us.” Billie said, still grinning.

I grinned as well, nodding. “Even with Mike’s gutter balls.” I said, mimicking Tre.

Billie’s grin transformed into a full-blown smile. I returned the smile, relaxing a bit as I leaned back. Everything was going to be just fine.

“So,” Billie took my placement to his advantage and took a few strands of my hair into his fingers, momentarily observing them before letting them fall back into place. For a split second, I panicked and wondered if I spoke too soon, but again, everything was just fine. “How’ve you been? The past… oh, few years or so that I haven’t seen you… what’ve you been up to?”

Instead of answering his question immediately, though I did plan to, I couldn’t help but asking, “You’re actually asking me that? I mean, I’m almost a complete stranger to you—we only talked once when I was leaving town,” I had a hard time saying that, because he had absolutely no idea how much of a lie that really was. “Why do you want to know about me?” I inquired, not unkindly. I was simply curious.

The question didn’t appear to offend Billie in any way. He pondered my query before responding. “I don’t know,” He told me honestly. “I just—and don’t take this the wrong way—but I kind of feel like I know you. I guess you just remind me of home,” He said. “And I love my home, and since you’re from there, it just… matters to me.”

There was a swell in my heart at his words, and I wasn’t entirely sure how to describe the feeling. But there was a sense of closure he gave me when he said that, and it made me feel a little bit better. Everything was going to be alright. I could do this. The thought made me inwardly smile, relieved.

“Besides,” His cheeky grin returned as he nudged me in the shoulder. “Most of my friends seem to know about you, and if you’re worth their time, then I want to get to know you, too.” I wasn’t sure if that was meant to be a compliment or not, but it was a start.

“Oh! Oh, what the fucking fuck now, you little shit?” The exclamation startled Billie and I, and before we could even process the events currently taking place around us, Mike stumbled over to us with Tre hot on his heels. He jumped behind the bench the two of us were sitting at and stuck his head in between ours, turning to kiss us both on the cheek before bounding out of the way of Tre’s fury.

“You did not get a strike!” Tre howled, almost tripping for the second time that evening, except this time it was over his own untied shoelaces. “You can’t get two gutter balls and then get a fucking strike!” Their conversation was lost in the mass crowd they disappeared within as they ran.

It was Adrienne’s turn to bowl. She and Candie had been having a conversation on the opposite side of the scoreboard, so Candie was the one who occupied her interest while Billie turned his head back to face me, offering me his undivided attention with a childish smile.

I breathed, chuckling lightly. “Well, I work as a bartender at a hotel with Candie,” Billie raised his eyebrows at this information given to him. “We actually live at that hotel as well, just so we can get to and from work easier. It’s a real hassle dealing with Miami traffic. But other than that, I really don’t have a very exciting life.” I explained, wondering when anything I said would start to bore my conversation partner.

Billie nodded his head as he took in my words. He apparently didn’t find them dull. “A bartender, huh? I think that’s pretty fuckin’ sweet.” He commented. A whizz of green hair passed by the back of our bench again, but we skillfully ignored it. “Do you have any family here, or are they back in Rodeo?”

“Rodeo,” I told him. “They were actually fine with my moving here. They knew I wanted a new start, and they respected my decision.”

“Do you still talk to them?” He seemed genuinely curious.

I nodded. “Of course I talk with them every now and then, just to check up on things. They’ve visited me once, but I think they prefer California. I think because there’s less humidity there.” I smiled faintly.

Billie seemed to visibly wince. “I can’t say I disagree with them. I hate humidity. Maybe that’s why I live in California.” His green eyes met mine as he said this and they seemed to have a smile of their own.

Our discussion—or lack thereof, as we appeared to be in some sort of staring contest—was interrupted when Adrienne advanced on us with a triumphant grin. “I got a spare,” She announced proudly, her grin stretching further across her face as Candie patted her on the back in a form of congratulations.

Candie then turned towards me. “It’s your turn, Spence,” She was all smirks. I rolled my eyes as I unwillingly stood. Candie had an odd sort of competitiveness against me, and since our scores were rather close—I was barely leading her—she seemed to be aiming for total annihilation.

Billie perked up, standing as well and causing me to stop, glancing quizzically at him. “’Spence’?” He asked, referring to the nickname. I nodded, tilting my head as if asking ‘what about it?’ He didn’t answer for a moment, but when he did, his tone of voice suggested he didn’t say what he originally planned to. “I didn’t know you were called that.” He paused, and then playfully flicked my nose. “I’m calling you it from now on. I like how it sounds.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, fleetingly wondering what was so special about it. But since Candie was close to dragging me to the lane to take my turn, I decided to shrug off the lingering thoughts and leave them for another time.

I selected the nearest bowling ball from the slot, which happened to be a deep, marbled blue. I placed my fingers in their correct openings and made for the end of the lane.

Before I had the chance to analyze how I was going to throw the ball to get an appropriate score, I felt some jab their fingers into my ribs and I jumped, shocked as I barely caught the bowling ball from dropping onto my delicate toes. I turned to scowl at the person who’d done it, discovering Mike and Tre who seemed to have returned from their childish escapades.

Everyone’s eyes were on me and I rolled my eyes a second time before turning back around to face the pins at the far end of the lane. “Great, I’ve got an audience.”

I paused, held up my bowling ball, and then went. I eyed the blue ball’s every curve and movement, motionless in my spot. I was thrilled beyond belief as it went straight for the middle pin in the very front. It collided with a smack and tossed aside eight pins, leaving the devastating two on each side.

A round of oooh’s were heard from behind me as I frowned. I went to retrieve another ball, knowing fully well that I wouldn’t hit either of the remaining pins. Billie, who was standing closest to the slot, leaned in as I positioned my fingers again.

“Try putting a spin on the ball as you roll it. I recommend aiming for the one on the left since you’re right-handed,” He explained logically, as if he were a bowling expert. His whispering caused me to grin, completely amused with how serious he appeared to be. He continued, “If you put a good amount of spin and kick on the ball, it should curve it just right to where it’ll not only hit the left pin, but make the pin fly towards the right one and knock it over, as well.”

I maintained the grin on my lips as I nodded. “Thank you, Billie. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Billie smirked, raising his left eyebrow as he gestured for me to continue. I raised my eyebrow as well as I walked past him and towards the lane.

I raised the ball, scrutinizing the lane like I had before. I considered Billie’s theory. It made sense, but I wasn’t quite sure how to put it into action. I hummed curiously beneath my breath as I eyed the left pin that sat erect at the very end of the lane. I narrowed my eyes, bit my lip, and stepped forward, twisting my wrist a bit as I let it go.

I held my breath, hearing nothing but awaited silence from behind me. I almost choked as the ball nearly fell into the gutter, but at the very last minute it curved back into the lane. My eyes widened as it smacked the side of the left pin right before falling into the gutter. It didn’t look like much, but the force of the smack actually caused the pin to go airborne.

It felt like slow motion up until that point, but the rest took only a blink of an eye to occur. One minute, the bowling ball nails the left side of the pin, and the next the pin is tossed to the right and directly slams into the second pin, throwing them both off of the lane.

My jaw dropped, and I jumped into the air, not bothering to hide my excitement as I screamed with success. There was a chorus of disbelief from the ‘audience’ and Candie almost tackled me into the lane as she fretted about the impossibility of catching up to my score now that I’d gotten such an unlikely spare.

After Tre dibbed me the ‘queen of balls’ and laughed at the dirty underlying meaning beneath said title, Billie went to salvage a bowling ball for his own turn. And as I watched him, his eye caught mine and he winked. It was a simple gesture, but there was a form of alliance, of confidence beneath it.

It was simple, indeed, but it was a start.