Paper Planes

"Let's go out tonight!" Tucker practically shouted as he jumped on the counter, scaring me out of my wits.

"Okay," I said, a little shifty. We do not have the greatest track record with going out. "Where?"

He looked pensive for a moment, before telling me, "Bowling. Put on jeans and one of my t-shirts and grab some socks. I'm gonna straight up murder your ass."

I choked for a minute. "W-what?"

"Anchorman? It's from a movie..."

"Oh," I said. We are having another awkward moment.

"Just go get dressed," he said, walking off downstairs to do something. I giggled at him and ran up stairs. I suppose the dishes can wait.

Five minutes later, I was wearing a pair of jeans (all of mine look the same since I bought everything at once), a pair of white socks, and one of Tucker's smallest black t-shirts that still hung loosely around my frame. I was rummaging for a pair of sneakers. "Found them!" I said.

"Alright! Let's go!"

I smiled and followed him to his motorcycle, which he still makes me ride on the back of. But we got neat little leather jackets and matching helmets. I don't think Tucker is too pleased to have matching helmets, but I think I like them more for that reason.

"You want me to put on someone else's shoes?" I asked incredulously. He stood at the counter, nodding like a madman.

"It's not a big deal. They spray them down."

I nodded suspiciously and took them to lane 17. I replaced them on my feet and Tucker followed. "I'll go first. Have you ever bowled before?"

"No, but I've seen it on television."

"I'll go first, just to make sure you know."

He rolled the ball and landed it in the side. I snorted at him. "Way to show me."

He glared at me, then grabbed another ball and focused his attention to the pins. I've watched a lot of television on bowling. Bowling and poker are the best to watch at night when you're in a new house and cannot sleep or get used to the time change. His stance is all wrong.

"You know, I have seen a lot of this, Tucker," I started. He started walking forward. "I think people play this professionally," he rolled the ball, "and your stance is all wr-" a loud crack cut me off as his ball hit the first most pin, the head pin, at a slight angle, billowing them all back and clearing the wooden floor.

"I'm doing it what?"

I gulped. "Lucky shot," I said,

He laughed. "Do you want some help?"

"No, I am sure I will be fine. I mean if you can do it..." I said, stepping up onto the little wooden platform and reaching for a ball. Bad move. I lifted it up and then my arm was wrenched back down.

Tucker, of course, started cackling. "You might try a heavier ball. Use the yellow one."

I cautiously picked up the yellow ball and glared at him. I stood at the first line, took three steps and swung my arm, letting go of the ball in mid-air. The ball continued in the air before landing in the lane next to me almost halfway down the lane, proceeding to get a strike for the little boy gaping at me to my left.

Tucker, again, started cackling. "Suuuure you don't want any help?"

I nodded and picked up another yellow ball. I tried again, but let the ball go a little later. It slowly crawled down the lane, hitting the gutter just before it reached the pin-area.

"I tried to show you," Tucker said, getting up and passing me. He got another spare, but this time hit most of the pins on the first roll.

After a few more rounds of the same nonsense, Tucker finally decided to help me out and stop the embarrassment.

"Okay, stand like this," he said, turning my body. "Hold the ball up here," he said, sliding his hand down my arm towards my fingers. "Take a step with your left foot," he said, following my step with his. "Now your right, and slowly lower the ball as you do so," he said, following me again and leading my arm down. "Now, aim for the arrows, not the pins, take another step with the left then bring you right foot up. Make sure your aim is dead on, the let the ball just roll of your fingers."

We did these steps together, and the ball went rolling. It slowly but surely made its way to the other side of the lane... and hit down three pins!

"Yes!" I screamed, turning around and hugging him. We celebrated for a few seconds before calming down.

"Now, the pin on the end is left, and that's the hardest," he said. I nodded. "We're going to move to the opposite end of it, take the same steps, but this time, aim for the arrow just to the left of the center one."

We did the steps together again, but he let me go at the end and I missed it.

"It's okay, you're doing way better than you have been. And that's a really hard spare to pick up."

I smiled. "Thank you."

He smiled back, and replied, "your welcome."

We stood there, smiling into each other's eyes for a minutes before he tore the gaze and grabbed a heavier ball for himself. I sat down and watched him continue to 'straight up murder my ass'.

"Okay, we'll try again," he said. We did the steps again. His hand slid up to my fingers, his feet followed mine, his strength drove my arm... STRIKE!

We both yelled odd little cheerful noises as I turned around to face him. We stood there for a moment before I leaned in and kissed him. It was short, not more than three seconds. I bit my lip and walked away to sit down. He stood there for a few more seconds before throwing the ball down the lane.

I kind of like being a couple with Tucker. I mean, I know I'm not supposed to enjoy it, but he really has become so nice. I mean, we still are not really real.

"Padma, it's your turn."

"Oh, sorry, I was spacing off."

He smiled at me. "Need my help this time?" he asked as I stood up.

I shook my head. "I think I ought to try it alone." He looked a little downtrodden. I leaned down so I'd be closer to his eye level. "But I still need a coach."

We both smiled at each other. He grabbed my with both hands, one at the back, pulling me onto his lap, and one on the back of my head, drawing my lips to him.

I was a little shocked. "Tucker," I tried to say through the kiss.

He let me go and I jumped up. He smiled goofily and leaned back in his seat, nodding to lanes.

I tried to hold back my smile and keep the disapproving look on my face until I turned around.

"Okay, start feet together on you mark. Left, right, ball out, left, bring up your right foot and swing, let go softly... 8 pins! Oh... that's a split."

"That is not good, is it?" I asked.

"No... don't worry, just try to get one."

I bit my lip and grabbed another yellow ball. I repeated those instructions he originally gave me to knock down the one pin last time, ignoring the pin on the other side. I finally got the one!

The final score came up.

"Alright, are you ready to go?" he asked.

I nodded, sitting down next to him and leaning down to untie my shoes. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him staring at me with a smile on his face.

But I pretended not to notice.

Just in case it made the butterflies worse.