'It's just you.' I said, my face turning red with every second.
'Yes.' Allison faked a smile. 'And you. And Steve.'
'Allison.' Steve smiled.
Steve squeezed himself into the other side of the booth and picked up a menu. I just stood still, I couldn't think of anything to say or do. Allison slid out of the booth and told me she was off for another drink.
'That's funny.' Steve said. 'She's still got half of her orange juice left.'
Yeah, she wasn't happy. I met her back at the bar.
'I'm so sorry, Allison.' I tried.
'For what? Can I get an orange juice please?' She said to the man serving. 'What do you and Steve want?' She sighed.
'I'll get these.'
I stumbled around in my pocket for my wallet, fully aware of my increasing red face and her increasing annoyance.
'I'll tell him to go. If it's just you and me.'
'That's the idea of a date.' She rolled her eyes.
Why can't things like this be made clear beforehand? You and me are going on a date. A night with a possible chance of romantic future depending how we get on. Why does it have to revolve around vague text messages and awkward little smiles? Cavemen and women never did that, and look at how much they got done!
'I just...I thought you were going to bring friends. Alex told me that bowling is a friendly thing to do.'
'Oh, so we're friends, then?' She asked.
'Well, yeah, i'd like to think so, but...no, no. We're more than that. Or else...I'd like to think...'
'Dylan.'
'Yeah?' I said quickly.
'Let's just enjoy the night.'
She handed me my half pint of lager and headed back over to our booth. When I arrived back there Steve and Allison were sipping their drinks and chatting away. Not such a bad idea after all, was it Allison?
'So what's with the glove then?' Allison asked Steve. 'Are you a Michael Jackson fan?'
'God no. Well, I've got Off The Wall on twelve inch, but who hasn't? Anyway, he had a silver glove.'
'So why do you wear it?'
'Grip.'
Steve picked up his pint of bitter with the glove, to show off the grip of the glove. He knows how to impress a girl. I didn't know how to feel. I didn't how it was going. Surely she was mad about me bringing Steve on our date, but look at her! Chatting away about grippy gloves and smiling. Normal girls would blank both of us and spend the rest of the night texting people on her phone.
'Shall we head over to the alley?' I suggested.
'Sure. Game on!' Steve shouted.
Allison headed outside first, which gave me chance to stop Steve before he got through the door.
'Steve.'
'Yeah, mate? What size are you?' He said, looking down at my feet. 'I want the ones with velcro on them.'
'Maybe we should call it a night.'
'What? You've got an alley booked.'
'I know, but...Allison, she...'
This was awful. I didn't want Steve to pull that face again, like a cat who's been slapped in the face. It was like I was splitting up with him.
'What's up?' He shrugged.
'Three's a crowd, you know.'
'Well, you shouldn't have invited her!'
Steve slapped me on the back and headed to the bowling alley. Safe in the knowledge that I was trying to get rid of Allison to be with him.
Mega Bowling used to be a cinema until they had a fire a few years ago. Some idiot set fire to a toilet roll in the men's toilets. The police caught him a week later, he said he did because they wouldn't give him his money back after watching Big Momma's House 2. Natural reaction, in my opinion.
'Size, sir?' The bloke asked me.
'Eleven's please. What lane are we on?'
'Six.'
'Is five free?'
'Yes, do you want to switch to it?
'No, I want to book that lane too.'
A few minutes later we ready to bowl, armed with a fresh round of drinks and those shoes that make you look like a twat.
'Right, Steve. You're on that lane. We're on here.' I pointed at both lanes, side by side.
'Why? Couldn't you get one lane? How are we meant to play each other?'
I know it sounds pretty lame, but at the time I thought it was a great idea. Me and Allison. Alone and on a romantic date on one bowling lane. Four yards away, Steve. On his one with his little glove. Allison smiled as if I knew what I was up to, programmed our names and threw a ball down the lane. Half a hour later we were still bowling. Steve took his time on his lane, making sure his glove was properly fixed to his hand and re-attaching his velcro shoes every two minutes. Me and Allison had finished our game and sat on the plastic chairs with our drinks.
'I'm sorry again. For bringing him.' I looked down.
I could feel her smiling at me. It felt good.
'It's OK. He's a laugh.'
'It's just...I like you a lot and I didn't want to come on my own if you were bringing your friends.'
'I see. Friendship politics.' She nodded and looked into the middle distance.
There was a few moments of silence filled by the distance clacks of arcade games and rolling bowling balls.
'I like you too.' She looked at me. 'In that way, just to make sure.'
Thank God for that. We both smiled at each other and sipped our drinks again, before looking up a Steve throwing his final bowling ball. He needed a strike to beat...himself...and through everything at it, revealing his hairy arse crack in the process.
How romantic.
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