When I finish the final frame with a strike followed by a spare, Amber does a full-on cartwheel in the middle of the room, just narrowly missing the decrepit air hockey table. I’m sure someone’s going to yell at us, but instead they just whistle and urge her on. Turns out being an extremely hot girl with long, bendy legs helps you get away with a lot. Who knew?

“You’re ridiculous,” I tell her, but even as I say it I’m pulling her close, an uncharacteristically affectionate tone coming out of my mouth that I don’t think I’ve ever used in my life. This girl is turning me into something different and I don’t hate it. “But I can’t say I mind having my own personal cheerleader.”

“I can’t say I mind having a future pro athlete on my arm either,” she says with a wink, and I laugh even though we both know the future options for female football players are not exactly Tim Tebow possibilities.

Tonight it’s kinda feeling like anything is possible.

We play one more game, and it’s true that Amber hits her stride at some point, though I’m mostly just watching her form. (It is very good form. Especially in that outfit.) Miguel and Malcolm take turns giving each other bowling instructions, like “roll it underhand like you’re three years old” and “do this one with your eyes closed,” and though we obviously won’t be posting them anywhere, we even take a few selfies. I make a mental note to send one to Morgan and Sage later.

With the nachos gone, we get spicy fries—the food is surprisingly decent for a six-lane bowling alley decorated like the home of someone’s grandma on acid—and Malcolm gets fried calamari, which the rest of us refuse to try. “I cannot put squid in my mouth,” says Amber. “I just can’t.”

“That’s what she said,” Miguel and I say together, and I swear to God it almost feels like I’m becoming friends with one of my teammates.

“Et tu, QB?” Malcolm asks, holding out the red plastic basket. “These two are cowards, but I expected more from you.”

“Them’s fightin’ words. Fine, I’ll try the damn thing.” The truth is, it smells amazing, but Malcolm doesn’t need to know that my mouth has been watering and full of regret since I initially squirmed at the idea of eating slices of tentacled sea creatures. I push up my flannel sleeves and watch Amber’s face twist in horror.

“You know, this may threaten your chances at a good-night kiss,” she warns me.

“Ohhhh,” Miguel says as I immediately drop my hand like it’s been burned. “The magic words.”