Access Denied (and other eighth grade error messages) by Denise Vega Page A

think I want 2 but will I be 2 scared? Bawk, part 2.

CHAPTER 11
KISS-A-BOWL
    “EVERYONE WEARS THE UGLY BOWLING shoes, Erin. It’s part of the fun and nobody cares.” Jilly pulled open the doors to Donna’s
     Bowl & Billiards on Friday afternoon. My mom was parking the car and the boys hadn’t arrived yet so we had a little reprieve
     before the Let’s Embarrass Erin show.
    “
You
don’t care?” This seemed strange coming from Jilly the Fashionista.
    “It’s bowling,” Jilly said, “No one’s looking at your feet because they’re too busy seeing how bad you play.” As we stepped
     inside the bowling alley, she gave me the once over. “I’ve never seen you so obsessed about your appearance before. How many
     outfits did you try on?”
    “Six,” I confessed, glancing toward the counter where the dreaded bowling shoes were lined up in cubbies.
    “Erin Swift tried on
six
outfits? I can’t believe it.” Jilly shook her head. “Let me guess. This one was the first you tried on.”
    “Second,” I said, tugging my double tank tops down over my jeans.
    Jilly’s eyes dropped briefly to my chest before returning to my face. “You look hot,” she said. “Blake will be so distracted,
     he’ll throw gutter balls.”
    I laughed. “I doubt that. He’s pretty competitive.” But it made me feel good anyway. I turned to the counter. “Come on, let’s
     get the shoes on and find a lane before they get here.”
    When the boys showed up, my mom was sitting in one of the seats in our lane, looking a little too comfortable. I introduced
     her to Blake and she shook his hand warmly.
    “It’s very nice to meet you,” she said. “Have you and Jon been friends a long time?”
    Blake shook his head. “We met at a soccer camp over the summer and found out we were both going to Washington High School.”
    “Okay, mom,” I said, tugging at her shirt. “Mrs. Hennessey will pick us up later. Thanks for the ride.”
    “I can take a hint,” my mom said, winking at Blake. Oh,
please. Could you be any more embarrassing in front of a hottie I’m just getting to know and would like to get to know better
     if you don’t ruin it by being a dork
?
    “Did you have to wink?” I asked when we were out of earshot. “Nobody winks anymore, Mom. It’s really stupid.”
    Her face fell. “I’m sorry,” she said, then pushed out the door without saying good-bye.
    I flicked away a niggle of guilt and hurried back to the group. The three of them were sitting in the chairs while the boys
     put their shoes on. “Sorry about that,” I said. “She’s a little—well, I’m not sure what she is exactly.”
    Everyone laughed, which made me feel better.
    “Don’t worry about it,” Blake said. “Moms are supposed to be a little strange.”
    I smiled as I set up our game on the overhead board.
    Bus Boy looked around before leaning over and kissing Jilly. They kept kissing so I turned away.
    “Are you two going to bowl or get a room?” Blake asked, unzipping a bag I hadn’t noticed before.
    “You brought your own ball?” I put my hands on my hips.
    “And his own shoes,” Jilly said, pointing to Blake’s feet. He had a nice pair of black shoes that looked like basic athletic
     shoes, not the ugly tan and red shoes we were wearing.
    “No fair,” I said.
    Bus Boy turned to Jilly and me. “His mom bowls in a league and he bowls on Wii Sports so that makes him an expert.”
    “He has his own ball, Jon,” Jilly said. “I think this goes beyond the Wii.”
    “It’s probably his mom’s,” Bus Boy said, picking up several balls from the rack before settling on a green one with black
     specks.
    “It’s mine, bro,” Blake said, pulling out a glossy blue ball. “See?” He held it out. Engraved near the holes in neat script
     was his name:
Blake Thornton.
He placed it on the ball return next to the standard black one I’d chosen. My ball looked slumped and weary next to his.
    “I think we’re in trouble,” I said