“Empty stomach, maybe.” He nods at the snack counter. “Nachos, yes?”

“Yes,” we chorus emphatically, and I realize I like a cheerleader who isn’t afraid of a little neon cheese sauce. I slip Miguel some cash and he and Malcolm head off to stock up on salty provisions while Amber and I trade in our footwear for super-chic bowling shoes.

“I have to admit, I thought you might put up a fight about the bowling shoes,” Amber says as she pulls a pair of tiny socks out of her purse and slides off her sandals. She’s so freaking delicate and feminine, right down to her perfectly pink-polished toes, and I feel like such a cliché for finding that so hot.

And then she brings me bowling, at this absurdly ridiculous place that has lamps designed to look like fishnet-stocking-covered legs at every alley, and somehow that’s even hotter.

“Bowling shoes are rad,” I say, showing off my feet, because I pull the shoes off quite nicely. “I’ve never worn ones with glittery laces before, but I think I’m rocking ’em like a champ.”

“That you are.” Her grin lights up her face, and she is just so fucking cute, I have to look away.

I know this isn’t going anywhere good. I’d have to be completely deluded to think this is ever going past the occasional secret hangout somewhere absolutely no one she cares about other than Miguel will ever see us. I know that even though I’m here with them now, I’m going to be alone again on the field come next Friday.

I know, I know, I know.

But she has that fucking smile.

And she brought me to a bowling alley with vintage posters of Rocky Horror on the walls.

And I’ve actually found some queer kids to hang out with again.

And I don’t know what I’m gonna do when this blows up spectacularly and I lose everything.

“Ooh, nachos!” She grabs my wrist to pull me to the table, springing me back out of my misery, at least for one night.

“So, when is all that domination gonna start?” I can’t help teasing Amber as she knocks down exactly one pin. For the third time in a row.

She flips her long brown hair. “I’m just getting warmed up,” she sniffs. “It takes me a little while to hit my stride, but then.”

“Then comes total domination,” Miguel says dryly, his lips curving into a smile around his straw before he takes a noisy sip of Coke and ice. “Just wait—by the tenth frame, she’ll be knocking down two.”