Super Dark (Super Dark Trilogy) (6 page)

She took my hand and led me toward the group of strangers. As she reeled off the names, I studied Becky closely. It looked as if I wasn’t the only who had decided to make an extra effort—but Becky’s was off the Richter scale. Her makeup was so heavy there were obvious lines of foundation between her face and neck. Her lips were shiny and her bleached blonde hair was swept up off her face in a French pleat. To top it off, her pink shorts were so tight they looked as if they were going to split any second.

“Come on,” she said after the introductions. “Let’s get you some shoes and a ball. And don’t worry about paying for the game—I’ve already settled that for you. But you’ll still need change for the cloakroom.”

“Oh, right,” I said, rummaging through my pockets.

I finally found some money, paid the girl at the desk, then handed her my coat.

“What shoe size are you?” Becky inquired.

“Four,” I replied.

“Wow, your feet are so tiny! I’m a clod-hopping size eight.” She scanned the rows of cubbyholes behind the desk, which contained dozens of pairs of red, blue, and white panelled shoes. “Can we have a pair of size fours, please?” As the girl went away to get them, Becky’s voice lowered to a whisper. “Do you think he’s coming?”

“Who?”

“Lee. It’s quarter to seven and there’s still no sign of him. I did tell him six o’clock, didn’t I?”

“Yes, I think so.”

Becky bit her lip as her eyes darted around the room. “Oh, I hope he doesn’t let me down. I really want to see him again.”

Before I could say anything, I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I turned around and saw Frasier standing behind me. His face was sweaty, as if he’d run a marathon, and there were damp patches under the arms of his camel trench coat. On his feet were what looked suspiciously like black-and-white tap shoes. Typical Frasier.

“Sorry, I’m late,” he panted. “The bus broke down and I had to run like a lunatic to get here.”

Becky shook her head. “Well, at least you got here.”

“Has Prince Charming arrived yet?” Frasier asked.

“Not yet,” I replied.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s on his way. He’s probably just stuck in traffic or something.” Becky sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than anyone else.

“Looks like you might have been stood up,” Frasier said, taking off his coat and handing it to the girl at the desk. He didn’t see the look Becky threw his way at that remark. When he turned around, he asked, “When does this game start? I’ve got to tell you, Becks, I haven’t a clue how to bowl, so you’re going to have to teach me.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “That makes two of us. We can support each other.”

“Hi, Sam, how are you?” I heard one of the group say.

I turned and saw it was Hannah. “I’m fine thanks,” I said, flashing my best fake smile.

Her small piggy eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you guys ready to start yet? Some of us have been here since six.”

“Well, if we’re taking up too much of your precious time, you can always go home, you know,” Frasier snapped.

The expression on Hannah’s face was priceless—like a stunned toad. Obviously, she wasn’t used to being spoken to that way, but I loved Frasier at that moment.

Just as Hannah opened her mouth to respond, her eyes focused on something beyond me. I followed her gaze and saw Lee walking through the front door. He spotted me, waved, and started toward us.

“Holy mother of god,” Hannah said, putting her hand over her mouth. “Who is that?”

I didn’t answer. I was too busy trying to control my own breathing. Every female eye was on Lee, and even a number of guys stopped what they were doing to watch him walk across the room. He looked hot as hell in all black and his body had the pumped up glow you get when you’ve just finished a workout at the gym.

“Lee, you made it!” Becky squealed as she raced over. She seemed to want to hug him, but caught herself just in time. “Let me introduce you to my friends. They’re absolutely dying to meet you. I’ve told them so much about you.”

Lee flashed his amazing smile and said, “All good, I hope.”

“Of course, silly,” Becky scolded. “I told them what a wonderful artist you are. Did you bring any of your sketches?”

“No. I didn’t know I was supposed to,” Lee replied. Then he looked at me. “Hi, Sam. Hi, Frasier. Good to see you guys again.”

I smiled weakly, hoping I didn’t pass out from forgetting how to breathe. I turned away to hide my embarrassment and walked over to the orange chairs in our lane to put on my bowling shoes. Frasier followed close behind, carrying his ball, a hefty sports bag, and a pair of shoes.

“Well, Becky certainly looks happy, doesn’t she?” he said quietly as he sat next to me.

“Yes, she does,” I replied as matter-of-factly as possible.

I slid on the bowling shoes. They were a bit tight at first, but I quickly got used to them. As I took a few steps, my gaze turned briefly back to what was happening across the room. I just couldn’t help myself. Becky was gesticulating wildly as she introduced Lee to everyone, touching his arm at every opportunity. Lee’s back was turned, so I couldn’t tell how he was taking it all, but I could picture the look of amusement on his face.

“Okay, let’s see how this works.” Frasier nodded toward the lanes on either side of us, where several of Becky’s friends had begun bowling.

For the next ten minutes we sat watching the game, trying to figure out the rules. It did look like they were having fun, but I wasn’t looking forward to making a spectacle of myself when my turn came. My sporting ability had always been a bit of a mixed bag. I was great at football, but I sucked at tennis and volleyball. Time would tell about my bowling skills.

“Hey, are you guys okay over there?” Lee said, prying himself away from Becky for a moment in the lane to our left.

Frasier smiled and gave him the thumbs up. “We’re good, thanks.”

“It’ll be your turn in a minute.”

“Can’t wait,” Frasier said, and I thought it sounded sincere.

We watched intently as Lee glided up to one of the lanes and rolled his ball with expert precision, his movements fluid and graceful. In one throw, he demolished all ten pins.

“Yes!” Lee punched the air triumphantly as everyone cheered. Then he turned to us and said, “Okay, it’s your turn now.”

I shrugged my shoulders and felt heat creeping up my neck like a snake. I hadn’t really been watching Lee’s approach. I’d been preoccupied with how well his jeans fit.

Lee handed me a ball. “Okay, Sam, give it your best shot.”

I got up and walked up to the lane, acutely aware that everyone was watching me. The ball was much heavier than I’d imagined and I was having trouble just holding on to it. Then, trying hard to focus, I took two steps, dipped, and rolled the ball. It landed with a dull thud on the wood and crashed into the gutter.

I squirmed and glanced sheepishly at Frasier. “Um, I guess that didn’t go too well.”

“You can say that again,” Frasier said, laughing heartily.

“Is this your first time?” Lee asked.

I nodded dumbly.

“I’m sorry,” Lee said sympathetically. “You should have told me. No problem. I’ll teach you.”

“No, I’m okay,” I lied. “I know how to bowl, really. I probably just had something in my eye.”

“Uh huh! A likely story,” Frasier laughed, shaking his head knowingly.

Lee walked over to the rack and found me a much lighter ball. He handed it to me, then turned me to face the lane, his hands on my shoulders. Looking at his hands, I noticed that he was wearing a gold medallion ring to cover his tattoo.

“Okay, to start with, your posture’s all wrong,” said Lee. “You’ve got to roll the ball. Don’t throw it. That’s a mistake all newbies make.”

As he leaned forward to position my arms, his cheek softly brushed against mine, which sent my mind racing in every direction except bowling.

“Do you work out?” he whispered.

“What?” I said, my body stiffening.

“Do you work out at the gym?”

I could feel his breath against my earlobe. “Yes, a little. Nothing major.”

“I can tell. Your arms feel pretty toned.”

I smiled as the smell of his cologne filled my senses, struggling to think straight.

“Okay, now close your eyes and try to imagine there’s no one else here but you. Not me, not Frasier, not anyone. Just focus on your target—those bowling pins at the end of the lane.”

Taking a deep breath, I glided forward and rolled the ball. This time it sped down the aisle and knocked down six.

It was my turn to punch the air. “Yes!”

“That was really good for your first try, Sam,” Lee said with a broad smile. “You see? That wasn’t so hard, was it? All it takes is a bit of practice. You’ll get the hang of it.”

“I might need some help, too,” Becky cooed, walking over and quickly placing herself between Lee and me.

She glared at me briefly then turned back to Lee and gushed, “You’re such a good teacher. I think I could use a few lessons myself.”

She linked her arm through his and led him to her lane.

Lee glanced over his shoulder as he walked away and called, “Just remember, Sam, stay focused on the target and you’ll be fine.”

“Now, do you think he can teach me, too?” Frasier joked as I sat next to him.

“Ha, ha, very funny.”

“But all joking aside, that was actually quite good, Sam.”

I smiled thinly, but I wasn’t really listening. I was busy watching what was going on in Becky’s lane. She was shrieking with laughter as Lee stood behind her, just as he’d done with me. I watched her flirting, giggling, and tucking her hair behind her ear. Then I saw his fingers drop to her waist—and my heart sank. There was nothing special about me. Lee would have done the same for anyone. I silently cursed myself for being so naïve.

Then I suddenly had a horrible sense of being watched. Instinctively, I turned around and saw—nothing. The seats behind us were totally empty. Perhaps I’d just imagined it, but it was an odd feeling—the same feeling I’d had all those years ago, just before the white van drove up.

Am I just being paranoid?

Fifteen minutes later, Lee returned to sit with us. It was now Hannah’s turn to bowl, and she was doing a pretty good job of it after the coaching session she’d had with him. Becky, Marie, and now Hannah. Everyone had had their turn in Golden Boy’s arms. I was so mad I could barely speak.

“Hey, Sam, want an apple?” Frasier asked, unzipping his sports bag.

I shook my head, so he offered the apple to Lee. Then he got out one for himself and continued watching the game. I lowered my eyes as Lee bit into his apple and tried not to listen to the loud noise as he ate. Glancing around, I saw a couple of girls watching him. The way they were staring it would appear as if they’d never seen someone eat an apple before. I shifted awkwardly in my seat, crossed my legs, and tried to focus on the game.

A couple of hours later, things were just about ready to wrap up. Frasier and I went to check in our shoes and grab out coats. As we waited for the reception girl to come back, I watched Lee and Becky link arms. They were so close, it was nauseating.

“What are you doing afterward?” Hannah asked me. She still wasn’t talking to Frasier after he’d blasted her.

“I’ll probably head home,” I said, turning to go. “It’s getting late and I’m tired.”

Outside it was dark, as most of the shop fronts had their lights off. A cold, wet breeze stung my face. The group lingered in the parking lot for a few minutes, saying our goodbyes. There was a brief discussion about how people would be getting home. Most of them would be taking the bus.

Lee released himself from Becky’s grip and dug through his pocket till he found his car keys. He pressed a button on the key chain and the doors to a yellow Lotus Esprit unlocked.

“Wow, that is one cool car!” Jermaine said. “What does she do zero to sixty in?”

“Four point eight seconds,” Lee replied with a grin, adjusting his cap. “Well, I’ve got room for one of you. Who needs a ride?”

“Me!” Becky squeaked, and before anyone could
protest, she’d crossed the parking lot
and jumped in the passenger seat.

“Well, I guess that’s decided, then,” Lee said. Fleetingly, his eyes rested on mine as he waved goodbye and joined Becky in the car. Within seconds, they were gone.

“Come on, Sam, let’s walk to the bus stop,” Frasier said.

As we plodded up the street, I felt a drop of rain. The evening was about to get worse.

***

“Sam, I’ve got Neil on the phone for you.”

“What?” I said, pulling off my headphones.

Mum was standing by my bedroom door, holding out the white cordless phone, her lips tight with disapproval. “It’s Neil. He says he wants to talk to you. He says it’s urgent.”

I checked the time on my iPod. Eleven pm.

Whatever Neil wants, it must be pretty important for him to be calling me at this late hour.

I switched off the iPod and tossed it on the dresser. Then I pulled the pillows into a pile and slouched back against them.