Flawed

Vanessa pulled up to the bowling alley, giving me her infamous puppy dog eyes. "Are you sure you have to go?"

I roll my own eyes and open the car door. "To earn money, you have to work, in order to work you actually have to be there, Vee."

She tapped her fingernails impatiently on the steering wheel and sighed as if I was some incredible disappointment. "Alright fine...I'll text you later. I'm heading over to Jackson's now." Vanessa winks and I know how our conversation will progress later: how she eaily wooed him, how he was a mess just being around her, and then "somehow" ending up in his room. All of these stories were always the same.

I climbed out of the car, Vanessa not taking a look back as she sped out of the parking lot, leaving me standing in a mix of hot air and dust. I trudged inside, tying my blonde hair up into a lopsided ponytail and slipping on my hideous bowling alley jersey, the evergreen one with my name embroidered on the front.

I waved to the owner, a grumpy fifty-something man who's career choice obviously didn't work out as well as he had planned and ended up with this dump to manage.

Alright, so the Bowl-A-Drome wasn't as much of a pig's pen as I made it out to be. The lanes were relatively new, there were computerized score sheets and flat screens hung up around the place so guys dragged here on dates could still end up watching baseball or basketball or whatever sports-related event might be on at the moment.

Some top-ten hip hop songs were playing in the background and I took my own iPod from my pocket and plugged it into the console hidden behind the counter. Mr. Howard didn't mind as long as it wasn't hardcore metal or all the same genre, and I took advantage of this whenever I could.

A new song I had just downloaded last night came off and even though I didn't know the words, I broke out into an embarrassing dance behind the counter. No one ever bowled on such a beautiful Saturday afternoon so I didn't have to worry about anyone seeing...until the bell over the front door rang obnoxiously.

I stopped immediately and looked up, brushing the blonde locks that had fallen out of the hair elastic out of my eyes. Almost instantly I recognized the guy as the one who had caught my attention that first day of school. After then, I realized he had two of my classes and happened to be every lunch period as me. Even still, I never managed to catch his name.

He caught me gawking at his perfectly chaotic dark hair, baggy skinny jeans resting low on his hips, and the hat perched on the back of his head, making it look like it was about to fall off any second, and a small smile appeared on his lips.

Mystery Boy waved at Mr. Howard just as I had done and slipped off his hat and into his own bowling jersey.

Noah.

That was his name, well at least that's what the cursive lettering claimed to call him by.

I hadn't realized I had said his name out loud until he turned to me, cocking an eyebrow at me. I stared at the boy, almost in awe, and shrugged smally, as if I hadn't really said anything.

"Do you need something?" He asked and I felt a blush creep up onto my cheeks.

"N - no," I stuttered, "I'm great. Awesome. Well not so much now because I'm rambling on like a fool. How are you?"

"I'm fine," there's a pause followed by a cocky smile, "Do you always act like that?"

I shake my head vigorously, "No, most of the time I'm cool as a cucumber. Totally relaxed. Like this one time when my mom had company over when I was eight and a small fire started in the kitchen and everyone was freaking out, but I just sat there, eating my mashed potatoes." I can see he's trying to keep from laughing and I'm utterly embarrassed with myself. "Excuse me, I have to pee."

Oh God, please tell me I didn't really say that... I think, but he snickers and I walk away as fast as I can toward the restrooms, my cheeks a flaming red color.

They smelled like they needed the help of fifteen Glade scented candles and I held back a gag as I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was already falling out and I quickly threw it up in another ponytail as I replayed the entire mortifying conversation over and over again.

Noah... It felt better to finally know his name, instead of calling him'Mystery Boy' like a seven year old with a super hero obsession.

There were two options now:
1) Face him again and try to regain his respect and any shred of my dignity that might be left or
2) Climb out of the bathroom window and lean against the side of the building until the bus came by.

Neither of them seemed extremely appealing, but in the end, I walked toward the front of the establishment and took my place next to Noah behind the counter.

"Don't worry, I made sure I washed my hands," I say, immediately regretting it. For some reason nothing ever seemed like it was meant to sound when I said it to him. My mind was all jumbled.

He cracks a small smile, never looking away from the front door while swinging back and forth on the twirly stool. I took the one next to him, but not before moving it far enough away so our knees didn't touch.

My favorite song by The Maine comes on and I force myself to stay seated on the stool and not belt out the lyrics. I hum them instead, drumming my fingers on the counter.

Noah coughs, as if trying to get my attention and my head snaps toward him. He gestures toward my thrumming fingers and I quickly say, "Sorry, I know how annoying that sound can get."

"No, no," he says, "It's fine. It's just, do you play piano?"

I raise an eyebrow and nod skeptically, "Yeah?"

Noah smiles and I swear my heart stammers. "Don't sound so sketched out. Your fingers were moving like they would on a keyboard, that's all."

I blush again and laugh, "Oh, well it's one of my favorite songs so my musical side tends to just come out."

Noah nods but doesn't say anything for a second before going, "I never thought you were so...nice."

I almost choke, "What?"

He looks at me, blue eyes gleaming in the dull light from above us. "I mean at school you just hang out with that group, you know? I just thought --."

"I know," I say quietly, twirling a pen around my fingers, "Everyone just thinks."

Noah watches me study the pen as it twirls, and his intense gaze causes it to go crashing toward the floor. Sighing, be both bend down to pick it up and his hand grazes mine, sending me into a frenzy. I bolt upright and crack my head on the counter.

"Shit!" I whisper-yell, wincing and putting my hand toward the already-growing lump.

"You alright?" Noah asks, worry lines appearing on his forehead. Gah, why did he have to be so nice and genuinely worried for me?

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say, grabbing the pen once and for all.

"You sure? I mean you smacked it pretty hard." He reaches up, brushing his finger tips across the tender skin and I nearly shoot through the roof - and not from the pain, but from the electricity that bolted throughout my system.

Our gaze locked and I had no clue what was even going on anymore. I tumbling head first, figuratively and literally, but I didn't want to do anything about it. I didn't want to stop myself from falling.

Why would I when Noah's smile was so perfect? When his eyes were so mesmerizing?

"Payton?"

I snap out of my reverie and put a hand to my forehead, "You probably think I'm a complete weirdo."

Noah smiles, "No, you're just...intriguing."

I stare at the laugh lines forming parenthesis around his lips and grin back, "Hopefully in a good way."

I swear that he winks at me, or it could have just been his eyelid twitching, and my heart flutters. "You'll just have to wait and see."