In her Contempo Casuals rave dress, my big sister raged toward me in the dark; backlit by the glow of the Shirley Bowl sign at the entrance that I should have passed through earlier in the evening.
“You’re so dead. I’m supposed to be at CPI by now, but instead I had to come hunt you down, wandering around town like some kind of derelict!”
“What the hell? Why?”
“Mom had you paged and you weren’t here. Where were you!?”
“No way. She didn’t really do that.”
“Would I be here if she hadn’t? You’re caught, punk. Get in the car, Rat.”
* * *
Tonight I pulled her hair half up into a pony and let the rest cascade around her shoulders. She put on mascara and a cute top. I dropped her at the entrance of Coram Country Lanes.
Five minutes later I walked in and pretended not to know her, just as we’d discussed. I walked past her new group of friends, and took a seat far enough away to see, but not be seen. She knew where I was, and I could say the same.
You will stay inside of the bowling alley, my love. ❤️