Bowling with Allison and friends

Thus far, things were going better than you had anticipated. When Allison swung by to pick you up, Shawna and Bryce had already taken residence in the backseat. Thankfully, they seemed to be more concerned with making out than they were interacting with you, giving only a half assed wave when you slid into the passenger seat. The conversation between you and Allison remained lively on the way to Strikes!, the local bowling alley. The last time you'd been there, you were still in elementary school. Danny had a birthday party there. They had put inflatable bumpers along the sides of the lanes to insure that everyone's ball made it to the end and despite that fact you were still unable to knock over any pins. Allison was eager to remind you of that. Though it was embarrassing to remember, it seemed funny that she had been there as well. You were still firmly entrenched in the "girls are gross" stage of life back then. Never would have guessed in a million years that you would be dating Allison some day, or that she would turn out to be so hot.

"You're up, bro," Bryce said, pulling you back into the moment. You stood up and found your ball. As against the odds as it seemed, Bryce was actually... alright. It was obnoxious that he didn't seem to be able to finish a sentence without saying "bro", but he was proving to be less of a stereotypical meat head jock than you expected him to be. You were no pro bowler by any means, but you managed to pick up a spare successfully. "Sweet spare, bro!" You sighed. Though not a complete stereotype, Bryce did still sound like one unfortunately. You smiled a bit in return.

As it turned out, the two of you did have some things slightly in common. Bryce seemed to warm to you a bit when Allison mentioned that you had begun lifting recently. You assumed that Shawna had probably given him a similar "play nice" pep talk and while it started awkwardly, it eventually blossomed into a passable conversation. He offered you some tips and techniques about achieving results. Though you resented it a bit at first, Bryce did seem to know what he was talking about, being built like a brick wall. Not nearly as impressive as John had been (you didn't realize it was possible to look that way), Bryce didn't really look like much of a high schooler. And while Bryce didn't have the diverse gaming palette such as yourself, his taste wasn't completely terrible. You didn't really approve of his Madden fandom, personally abhorring sports titles, he did play Call of Duty. It might actually be nice to play with someone again as Randall's schedule and lifestyle as Miss Card had severely obstructed your gaming together.

The time demands of Miss Card's personal exercise regime, coupled with teaching, and a moderate night life seemed to be occupying not only Randall's time, but his interest as well. You couldn't really blame him. Randall hadn't really been all that socially active before and you knew to some extent he was enjoying the attention and status of being Miss Card. Who wouldn't enjoy a little power? Still, you were having difficulty dealing with Randall being wined and dined by that square jawed, bright eyed, clean cut lout Mr. Hanson. You mentally sighed. You knew that Mr. Hanson wasn't a bad guy, it just stung that he was in Miss Card's league. Randall's league, you corrected yourself.

As tempting as it was, you were desperately trying to keep your imagination from turning what Randall had described as a dumb work date into the illicit, nigh pornographic smorgasbord you were worried it would become. Before heading out the door earlier, Randall had sent you a pic of what he was wearing. He was glad in a figure hugging blue dress. Though the hem of the dress was past his knees and it exposed only a bit of cleavage, it was still devastatingly sexy. I guess this is as conservative as it gets with Miss Card's wardrobe, you thought. With a body like that, Randall probably didn't have a lot of choices. Miss Card would look sexy in a garbage bag. Nothing would be able to hide the fullness of those breasts. With the way he was posed, they seemed to stick out bigger than ever. You found yourself wondering, Are they still growing? Is that even possible? Though you were no closer to knowing the reason for Randall's expansion of what was already an impressive set of breasts, you couldn't help but admire them.

"Earth to Timmy...?" Allison sang at you, snapping out of your thoughts. "You ready to go? Shawna's getting hungry."

"Alright. Where we going? Fat Mike's?" you asked. You crossed your fingers. Fat Mike's was easily the best pizza in town. You and Randall used to go there all the time. You took Allison there on your first date.

Allison smiled at you, seeming to remember that time herself. "Sounds good to me," she chirped.

"I'm game for it," said Bryce.

"Nooooooooo," whined Shawna. "I wanna go to Mr. Frosty!" You cringed.

"Shawna," started Allison, trying to appease her friend, "we were all thinking o..."

"But I really, REALLY, REALLY want to go to Mr. Frosty..." she repeated, her pitch reaching a rather irritating decibel. Ugh... How is Allison friends with her? you wondered. Allison and Bryce both looked toward you, shoulders shrugging, deferring to you to pick the fight. You were in no way interested in watching or hearing Shawna behave like a spoiled baby.

Feeling as apathetic as the others, you caved, "Fine. Whatever..." As Shawna clapped eagerly and skipped ahead, you had trouble believing that anyone could be that old and still act so unbelievably infantile. It was obvious that Bryce was not dating her for her charming personality.

"Sorry, bro," he said, sheepishly, clapping you on the shoulder.

Allison came up and whispered in your ear, "Thanks for being so good today, Tim. I promise I'll make it up to you later..." As you all walked out of the bowling alley, she gave you a playful squeeze on the ass. A squeeze that seemed to suggest a promising conclusion to the evening if Allison would ever deliver. Not wanting to start building expectations again, you decided to stop worrying about it.

Back in the car, things between Bryce and Shawna resumed in the back seat. The sounds of their makeout session being delivered from only inches away made conversation feel a bit strained. You and Allison rode in relative silence. She reached for your hand, holding her over yours instead. It wasn't much, but it was stimulating in it's own way. Intimate even. Plus, there was the added bonus of Shawna not speaking. Whatever kept her quiet was a good thing in your book.

Mr. Frosty was located in an older part of town. While newer burger joints had adopted a classic '50s aesthetic, this place was actually new in the 50s. The subsequent decades had been less than kind. It was a small beige building in the center of a parking lot. The paint was weathered and chipping. While the sign was illuminated, contrasting with the rapidly descending darkness, several of the lights were burned out. Though it didn't look very clean or very hospitable, they did manage to crank out one hell of a burger.

Shawna dashed out of the car, calling for Allison to come to bathroom with her. Bryce exited, but Allison lingered behind for a moment.

"Tim," she said. "I don't know if you have plans for the weekend or anything..." You looked at her, a bit flabbergasted. Allison was blushing deeply, her voice nervous. You never saw her like this. "Well, my parents are going out to the lake house and I'm going to be home..." She paused. "Alone."

"Oh."

"I was thinking," she continued nervously, "that maybe you could come over or something."

"Sure!" you said in a half-shout. You were ecstatic. Finally!

"Okay..." she said, smiling, getting out of the car. As you watched her run off to join Shawna, you admired the subtle curves of her body, the sway of her hips, the bounce of her long, blonde tresses. Elated as you felt, it was like you were seeing Allison for the first time in a long time. She really was a beautiful girl. You certainly felt like a lucky guy.

"I can't believe we went here instead of Fat Mike's. Fucking-a..." said Bryce, as you walked up to the counter beside him.

Your sentiments exactly. "Fucking-a," you repeated. "Mind if I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

Feeling bold, you asked, "Why are you dating Shawna? Not trying to be rude..."

"Killer in the sack, bro," he said, grinning. "Killer in the sack." He held out his hand for an obligatory fist bump. You obliged.

"Even still, man... Don't you feel like a babysitter instead of a boyfriend?"

He laughed. "All the fucking time! You know how it is though, girls aren't exactly lining up to date me. Messed around a bit at parties here and there, but Shawna's the only girl that actually wanted anything to do with me after. First girlfriend I've had since, like sophomore year. So she's a bit of a bimbo, but she's also really loyal." He shrugged his shoulders. "It works." It was strange for you to think about. Did Bryce just categorize himself with you in the girl department? You were sure you'd heard girls at school throw around his name pretty frequently as a "hot" guy. He was on the starting line up for varsity football after all. Still, it seemed it wasn't any easier for him to find a girlfriend than it had been for you, at least until you found Allison.

The girls returned from the bathroom and you all managed to finally order. As you sat down to wait for the food, you found your mind wandering again. What was happening on Randall's date with Mr. Hanson? While you still felt a little jealous, thoughts of some alone time with Allison were quietly helping you forget your recent hardships.