O7 It's Time To Begin

"IT'S TIME TO BEGIN"

I woke up early on Sunday morning. My parents were downstairs having breakfast without me. At some point during my week of solitude, my dad stopped asking me to join them.

For what felt like hours, I stood at the top of the steps as I went over what to say to my mom. Peter wasn't there to soften her up and every scenario I played out in my head ended with yelling. It was impossible to talk to her when she was constantly in defense mood.

I almost turned back around and went to my room. But I wanted have meals with my family again. Even if we normally ignored each other as we sat the table. At least we were together.

Sucking down a deep breath, I headed down the stairs. My dad saw me first and nearly choked on his coffee. When my mom came over to slap him on the back to ease his coughing fit, she saw me and froze.

It'd only been a week since I really got a look at her. Lately she'd been just a blur walking past my room, or rushing off to work.

The three of us were at a standstill. My mom's hand still on my dad's back, my dad looking between the two of us. Every made up conversation I had as I stood on the stairs vanished from my head.

I silently slipped into my usual seat at the table. My mom left to go into the kitchen. A few minutes later, she set a bowl in front of me--oatmeal topped with raspberries and blue berries and chopped nuts.

She claimed her seat and started on her own oatmeal. There was still a lot if tension and words that definitely needed to be said, but at that moment we just enjoyed our family breakfast.

After we ate, my parents got ready to for their marriage counseling appointment. Before they left, I met them at the door.

"Um, is it okay if I go bowling today?"

My dad grabbed the car keys from the hook by the door. "I don't see why not." He glanced at my mom for confirmation.

She stared at me for a moment. "Don't stay out too late."

Her response honestly shocked me. And my dad. His surprise wore off quickly, turning into a supportive smile. I almost asked if that meant my grounding was lifted, but thought better of it.

"Okay," I said instead.

My dad gave me a hug, kissing my the top of my head. "See you later, kiddo."

As soon as their car pulled away, I ran up to my room to find an outfit. What did one wear on a date with her fake boyfriend to a bowling alley? After trying on everything in my closet, I settled on a pair of jeans and top with daisies printed on it. For my hair, I went for an half up/half down look.

When I finished, I checked myself out in the mirror. I immediately wanted to change. Was my top too cropped for a family thing? Were my jeans too tight to bowl in? Would Peter be as speechless as the other night when he sees me this?

"You're the yeah-est girl I've ever seen."

It was so cheesy, yet it lived rent free in my head. I had to send him an eviction notice immediately. I walked away from the mirror and put changing out of my mind. Because who cared if Peter thought I looked cute? I knew I look cute.

Since I was dressed a full hour earlier than necessary, I went down to garage where I kept my piano and makeshift recording studio made of PVC pipes and blankets.

Yesterday day I found an unused notebook in my room and transferred the song I'd started to it. It seemed like I'd nevervsee my old song book again, so it was time to start a new one. Friday, after I hugged Peter goodbye, I got this idea for a song.

The words needed work, but the story was there. Something about a confused girl running out of time to make her decision.

I sat at my piano. It was pretty basic, just something I picked up at a thrift store. I thought it was a kids toy at first. Honestly, it still might be, but I like the sound.

My fingers moved over the keys while I hummed what I'd written so far. I tried to figure out the melody, but the song was being difficult. Sometimes a song would be so loud and clear in my head I could finish it quickly. Other songs had to be dug out, like now. I really missed my song book at that moment.

Giving up on the new song, I let out a breath and started playing an old song I wrote--"Over". It was a slower song than "I Don't Wanna Dance With You" and, although it sounded like a song about a relationship ending, it was about my parents. Cherry called it my anti-love song. A song about how two people should break up instead of getting together.

I'd played the song so many times at that point, my fingers easily found the notes. The lyrics flowed out of me and even though the song was about my parents, something about them reminded me of my relationship with Peter. My nice neighbor with commitment issues.

This annoying little crush I'd developed for him was as hopeless as my parents marriage.

As I sang the last line, Freckles started barking. Someone was at the door.

I left the garage to see who it was, shushing Freckles in the process. Peter stood on my porch wearing an All Time Low t-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders nicely.

"You know, most people just text when they're outside."

He shrugged. "I'm not most people."

He wasn't and that was the problem. Maybe if he was like every other guy I'd be able to shake him from my mind.

I stepped aside to let him in. Freckles sniffed at his legs and Peter scratched her behind the ears. He had every female in this house under his spell.

"Was that a new song?" He asked after Freckles ran back to the laundry room, her favorite napping spot.

"You heard that?" I asked as I collected my purse from the couch. I didn't know why I was surprised. The garage wasn't sound proof.

"Yeah, it was kind of sad but beautiful?" He said, unsure of his words.

Sad and beautiful seemed about right. "Its and old song. Wrote it last year."

"It isn't on your profile," he pointed out.

"Creeping outside my house and stalking my social media? I'm starting to think you're obsessed with me."

"As long as you don't find out about the shrine I have of you in my closet." He gasped, cover his mouth. "Oops."

I shook my head, laughing. The corners of his eyes crinkled as a huge grin overtook his face.

"Seriously, why isn't that song uploaded anywhere?" He asked, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"The public hasn't earned it." Honestly, the song was just too personal. I didn't want random people criticizing the lyrics when they exposed so much of me. The fact that Peter overheard it didn't sit well with me. "So, is it bowling time, or what?"

He buried a hand in his soft looking curls. His shampoo over powered the plug-ins my mom had all over the house. "Actually, I came by to go over the plan for today. You know, with us...pretending to date."

That made sense. We definitely needed to know each other's boundaries. "Okay. Well, I assume you want to keep the PDA to a minimum."

His forehead wrinkled. "Why would you assume that?"

"You had brain aneurysm when I hugged you the other night."

"I thought...You just caught me off guard. I don't mind being hugged."

And I don't mind hugging you. I pushed that thought aside. "Alright, so hugging. A little hand holding. That should be enough to get our point across."

He nodded in agreement, the afternoon sun that filtered through the curtains reflecting off his hair. It took a lot to keep myself from reaching out to touch it. "That sound good."

"If your brothers say anything about us not kissing, just tell them I haven't gotten my cootie shot."

He chuckled. "I don't know. That might freak them out. Cooties are highly contagious." After a beat, he stepped closer to me. Using his index finger, he traced two circles on my upper arm then poked it twice. "Just so we don't accidentally cause an outbreak."

His fingertip lingered on my arm, sending all the wrong signals to my easily manipulated heart. I met his light blue eyes, lips parting to...To what? Tell him to back up? Kiss him. Both options seemed simultaneously right and wrong.

I wanted him to go away because kissing him would be insanely stupid. But I wanted him close because kissing him might be the most satisfying thing in the world.

The chorus of a Fallout Boy song sounded from his pocket, bursting whatever bubble we were in. He stepped away to look at his phone. "The guys are ready to go," he announced.

***

I wasn't at all surprised to see our small town bowling alley practically deserted. The guy at the shoe rental counter knew the Conways by name, making me think they singlehandedly kept this place in business.

Bowling lanes took up one whole wall, with monitors hanging over them. On the other side there were blue vinyl covered benches arranged in U-shape around another monitor that was bolted to the ground. If it weren't for the Tori Kelly song playing overhead, I'd think we stepped foot into one of my dad's favorite eighties movies based on the decor.

On the ride over, Peter tried to give me a crash course on his family and their girlfriends.

His dad was data manager and no one knew exactly what that meant.

Chris and his girlfriend, Jessie, had been on and off since high school and would most likely start arguing at some point in the day.

Evan, the twin with short hair, was trying to go vegetarian with his new girlfriend, Sarah. So if I caught him eating a hotdog, I didn't.

Aaron, the twin with the glasses, had talked about proposing to his girlfriend, Brynleigh. But everyone has advised against it since they're only nineteen.

Ryan and his girlfriend, Tameka, seemed to be the only couple not dealing with any sort of drama.

Chris and Ryan shared an apartment, but were at the house more than anyone. Aaron and Evan were going to the community college. And I was one hundred percent sure I'd forget everything as soon as I left the car.

"What about your mom?" I asked after his rundown. She was the only one not mentioned.

"Last I heard, she was in Holland."

"As in Europe? Does she travel for work."

A muscle in his jaw twitched, his eyes narrowed at the road ahead. "She lives there. Has for almost eight years now."

I ended the conversation right there. My mom was overbearing and controlling, but at least she was in the country.

Now, Peter lead me to the counter for shoes. I was only slightly embarrassed to ask for a size nine. Peter, of course, had his own personal pair. Just like the rest of his family.

"I got us a separate lane," he told me as we got settled at a lane two down from his family. "For practice. My brothers get competitive and loud."

That was fine by me. Less people to witness how bad I was at this.

"Have you ever bowled before?" He asked as he sat down to swap his Vans for the hideous two-toned bowling shoes. I did the same.

"Only on Cherry's switch." And most of my turns ended in the gutter.

"We tried that," he mused. "It's nothing like the real thing."

Maybe I'd be better at real life bowling. I stood after tying my own pair of hideous shoes. "Alright, let's do this."

Peter went first, showing his technique for rolling the ball. His family kept snagging my attention, though. He wasn't lying about them being loud. You could barely hear the music over them, but they looked like they were enjoying themselves.

It looked like girls versus boys. Apparently, the Conways were too competitive to have mercy on their girlfriends. The girls took it stride. Probably used to it by now.

"Are you ready to try?" Peter asked, pulling my focus back to me.

"No laughing," I said, picking up a ball.

"I wouldn't dare." The smirk painted on his face told another stories.

I took my place at the end of the lane, position my fingers inside the holes of the ball. It was heavier than a Switch controller. I swung my arm, releasing the ball.

"Woah!" Peter yelped as my ball flung out behind me. He fished my ball out from under the bench.

"How did that even happen?" I was truly impressed by my own lack of coordination.

He handed my ball back to me, then stepped to the side. "You have to release it at the exact right time."

He swung an invisible ball to demonstrate. Holding my ball to my chest, I turned to him. "I got my cootie shot, remember? You can stand a little closer."

"Right." He was the definition of awkward as he came closer. It looked like he second guessed every step and thought he had. "So, um, you gotta--Let's set the ball down for now."

He demonstrated again with his invisible bowling ball. Telling me to keep my elbow tucked into my hip and about weight distribution and balance and follow through.

I tried to follow along, but I was starting to feel ridiculous swinging my arm around like playing the world's largest air guitar.

The only good thing to come of it, was Peter being so focused on my form that he stopped being so nervous. But I felt I was frustrating him the longer I didn't get it because he took a different approach.

He stood behind me, his chest to my back. It took me by surprise, honestly. He'd acted scared to touch me this whole time. Now he took my right hand in his, his left hand on my lower back as he guided my arm in the motion he'd tried showing me.

I tried my hardest to cling to the lesson, but my mind was consumed by his touch and how our cheeks were practically touching and the scent of dryer sheets on his shirt. Suddenly, I was the one who didn't know what to do with myself.

"I think I got it now." I said, needing him to step away from me for the sake of my sanity.

He released me and did just that. Once he handed me my ball and stepped back, I tried to remember what he said and not how he felt pressed against me.

That time when I rolled the ball, it went towards the pins. It veered left, but stayed out of the gutter and knocked two of the pins down.

"Yes!" I threw my arms up like I'd won the lottery.

I heard clapping and cheers from behind me and it wasn't just Peter. His brother's joined in.

"You're a fast learner," Aaron said. "Bryn just barely got off the ramp."

The pretty red head at his side, playfully smacked his shoulder. He laughed and kissed her cheek, whispering something that made her blush.

I trained my gaze on Peter. "There was an easier way to do this?"

He chuckled. "You don't seem like you want things easy."

That was a very accurate observation. I didn't know how I felt about him reading me so well.

Peter and I played our own game. He taught me the rules and how to use the scoreboard. By the end of our game, I had a good enough grasp to join the rest of the family.

We split into teams of five, Jessie opted sit the game out since it was uneven. Plus, like Peter predicted, she and Chris were at odds. The two of them glared at each other every the met eyes.

Everyone was nice about me being a beginner. Tameka gave me pointers and Brynleigh told me everyones weakness when it came to the game. The guys even took the competitiveness down a notch for my sake.

After the game we took a break for pizza and hotdogs. Evan looked longingly at the meat as he at a slice of cheese pizza.

"Are you having fun?" Peter asked between bites of his own pizza.

"No, not at all. Zero out of ten stars," I teased. I'd never hung out with the families of any guy I've dated. They only let me in their homes if their families were out. Being there with the Conways, I realized how little I settled for in my relationships.

Why had I been okay with random hook ups in the back of cars?

Peter laughed. "We don't give refunds on membership fees. So..."

"Guess I'll just have to stay and get my money's worth."

His mouth ticked up in a smile that the swarm of butterflies in my stomach couldn't ignore.

***

After bowling, everyone went their separate ways. But not before an eleven person group hug. Apparently, hugging was the Conway way. They were a welcoming bunch of people.

"Thank you," Peter said once we were in the car. "You really didn't have to do any of this and--"

I cut him off. "Stop. I got free food and a possible case of athletes foot. I should be thanking you."

"Okay." He sat there staring at me instead of starting the car.

I laughed nervously. "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for you to thank me."

"I said I should, not that I would."

He started up his the car. "It was worth a shot."

Pulling out of the bowling alley parking lot, he headed towards our neighborhood. I wasn't ready to go home.

"Take a left," I instructed.

He glanced at me, but did as I asked. "Aren't you still grounded?"

"I don't know what I am," I admitted, watching buildings blur past the window. "So I'm enjoying my freedom while I can."

Maybe if I repeated that to myself enough times I'd start to believe it. The truth was, I didn't want to end my day with Peter.

"Where to then?"

I turned to him, grinning. "You'll see."

*******

Thanks for reading another chapter <3

Things are starting to heat up between Faye and Peter!!

And we got a little info on Peter's mom and the rest of his family.

Any ideas about where Faye is taking Peter?