“Be nice,” Simone said softly to Caroline, as Danny swung his arm way back, apparently determined to throw the ball so forcefully not even Caroline could disrupt his stride. The ball curved wildly and took out half the pins.
“When am I nice?” Caroline asked. Danny went to take his second turn, seemingly more confident now. “Does it involve guns?” Caroline asked. The ball veered and took out only two pins. Caroline smiled at Danny as he walked back from the lane, and handed him her empty beer bottle. Danny glared but took it. Caroline stepped up to the lane and stretched her arms before the ball appeared in her hand.
“You know what’s funny?” Danny asked in a vaguely aggressive tone that didn’t quite work, like a kitten playing tiger. Simone stared at him. Was he trying to psych Caroline out? He couldn’t be dumb enough to think he could do that. “I’m a brunet, Simone is a redhead, you’re a raven-haired vixen…” He stopped to drink his beer. Simone was now staring intently at him. He wasn’t going to do what it sounded like, she hoped. She liked him, he was a good kid, and she didn’t want to have to smack him to keep him from talking. Caroline rolled the ball, and just as she did so, Danny added, “All we need is a blonde.”
The sound effect of crashing pins that Caroline’s strike generated was incredibly loud to Simone. She clenched her hands, resisting the urge to grab his hair and drag him out of the room. He pointedly avoided her gaze.
“I think you’re psyching out the wrong person,” Caroline said, with a look of amusement. Simone realized she must look very angry. “He took my beer,” she lied, trying to relax her face. Caroline shrugged and turned back to the lane. Danny turned to Simone, smiling. He looked happy, as though he’d come up with a good idea. Simone desperately shook her head, but he nodded back just as emphatically. This wasn’t just him getting back at Caroline. He thought he was helping.
“Do you know any blondes?” Danny asked loudly as Caroline swung back her arm. “Maybe you met one at the Four Seasons?” Simone reached out but wasn’t fast enough to clamp his mouth shut. Her hand was heavy from the glove, and she ended up just patting his face. He looked at her confused, but before she could say anything, she realized something else was wrong. There was no sound of a strike. Simone looked over at the lane. Caroline was silhouetted by it, her gutter ball rolling slowly out of sight.
“Met with a blonde at the Four Seasons?” Caroline turned around, looking unhappy. She crossed her arms. “Is this a setup? Am I involved in your case?” She took a step closer to Simone and pointed at her chest. Simone said nothing. Caroline’s eyes widened, and for a brief moment, she had an expression Simone had never seen on her before: She looked hurt. Then her face hardened to a Glassteel sheen. “Am I a suspect?”
“The woman you were meeting with—” Simone started to explain.
“Marina. She’s an art dealer. I’m buying a Reinel for my parents. Remember? I told you I had crap to do for them?” Caroline was angry now. She threw up her arms and walked away from Simone, then back again. “Why couldn’t you just ask me like a normal person? And do you really think I’m involved? You think I wouldn’t tell you if I was involved in some sort of… what? Conspiracy?” She stared Simone down, and Simone glanced downward. Her voice got lower, colder. “That is what you think, isn’t it? One meeting with some woman involved in your case and you think I’m conspiring against you. You think I’m that crap of a friend, don’t you?”
“She pointed a gun at me,” Simone said. Caroline didn’t say anything—just stared at Simone and crossed her arms, waiting for something else. Simone didn’t have anything else.
“And you didn’t think I’d want to know that?” Simone didn’t say anything. “You thought I knew? You thought… what, that I was in on it?” Simone wanted to say something; she could feel words bubbling under the surface, but they just crept up into her mind and went back down again, half-syllables and lost protests drowning somewhere inside her. She opened her mouth, hoping they might come together, create some excuse, some explanation, some apology, but yes, she didn’t trust Caroline, she was afraid to, and not just Caroline, but… she sighed. Her mouth closed.
“Fuck you,” Caroline said, throwing off her glove and storming out of the room.
“Thanks,” Simone said to Danny after a minute. Danny still hadn’t lifted his head.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m really sorry. I’m shit for secrets. I could tell you about how I’m trained to share everything I know, or how I thought I was helping, but… I fucked up. Sorry.”
Simone shook her head. She’d been ready to hit him hard enough to dislodge the computer in his head, but all that drained out of her when she saw the expression of regret on his face. She knew she should be furious with him, but she just felt sorry for him. She was angrier with herself.
“I shouldn’t have tried to keep it from her. It was stupid.”
“And kinda mean,” Danny added.
Simone glared. “Be quiet unless you’re apologizing.” Simone took a deep breath and sat down on the floor. She felt cold. “Fuck,” she said to no one in particular. She reached to her side but remembered she wasn’t wearing her coat. “Give me my trench,” she said to Danny. Wordlessly, he complied. She took off her glove so she could fish her cigarettes out of the pocket. She lit one, leaned back against the wall, and pulled herself into a cross-legged position. When she’d had a good inhale she held her cigarette up next to her cheek.
“You should go apologize,” Danny said after a minute, taking his glove off.
“It could have been an act,” Simone said.
“You don’t really believe that, do you?”
“No, I don’t.” She inhaled again. She wanted to believe it, though. What did that say about her? She didn’t ask the question aloud. Danny wasn’t good at lying.
Suddenly the door flew open, and Simone looked up, her mouth already curving into a smile in hopes it was Caroline, but it was the lane attendant.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he yelled. “No smoking!” He pointed at the sign on the door he was still holding open. Simone quickly stubbed the cigarette out on the floor next to her. “Don’t do that!” he said.
“Sorry,” Simone said. Then an alarm went off, a loud piercing thing, and the room turned a dull red color, shutting the VR interface off.
“You set off the alarms!” the attendant shouted. “Oh fuck.” He ran out the way he came, just as sprinklers started spraying down thick pelts of freezing water on them. Danny began to laugh. He tried to cover his mouth and hide it, but he was bad at that, too. Simone stared at him as the water poured down on her, until he gave up and just let the laughter pour out of him.
“Sorry,” he said, between laughs, “sorry.” Simone got up and put on her coat, which was also soaked. The floor was covered with water and filling up fast. They needed to leave. Simone pushed the door open and waved for Danny to come along.
Outside the lobby was chaos as people ran from their lanes to the front door. Simone and Danny joined them, running out the front door and into New York, where waves were crashing, but at least it wasn’t raining. She and Danny walked a few blocks without saying anything, Danny still giggling.
Simone lit another cigarette.
“You really should apologize,” Danny said finally. “She trusted you.” He shrugged at her. She didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at him, but through him at the city. “Okay,” he said after a moment. “I’ll call ya.” Then he walked away, dripping wet, but with his shoulders back and his chest puffed out like he was the luckiest kid on the ocean. Simone watched him go and finished her cigarette. She lit another and finished that one too. The cigarettes weren’t doing anything for her, or maybe they were just giving her that sour sensation in her stomach. She needed something else to make her feel… different.