The ball flies at the pins, knocking every one down on contact. I clap, unimpressed. Marcus looks at me with a cocky grin, and he waltz's back over to the little red seat.
"Nice," I say, my tone clearly unamused.
He winks, "Bet you can't do better than that, boo."
"One," I begin, making my way toward the lane, "challenge accepted." I turn to the pins, bowling ball sleek in my hands, strategically planning each pins fall carefully.
"And two, don't call me 'boo'," I whip the ball, it tumbling down the center of the lane and knocking every pin back like an explosion threw them like ragdolls. I turn with a small smurk, Marcus's eyes wide with impression.
"Nice. Hey, remind me not to take you bowling again."
"It was my idea, you just took me here."
"Right, right."

I flop onto my bed, overwhelmed by the amount of stress relieved over the course of the day. I rip off my pants and slip on some cotton shorts, making myself a little burrito in my comforter. I stare at the wall, wondering if the route I chose with Marcus was right.