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Ian’s smile grows somehow, and he points to a space behind me. I swivel in my chair to see what he’s pointing at. It’s a large bulletin board with a much smaller whiteboard in the center.
LEADERBOARD
1. Ian Davidson
2. Gordon Wyngaert
3. Tom Harlan
4. Fred Diesen
I raise my eyebrows at him, and I’m about to make another comment, but Mac and Jessie join us. Mac sits between me and Ian, and Jessie sits on the other side of me. They start to remove their shoes.
“So, Jade didn’t tell us her scene partner was a local celebrity,” Mac says.
“I had no idea,” I say.
Ian shakes his head, but that childlike delight lingers in his smile. “I’ve been on the bowling league here since freshman year. They just know me.”
“Oh, but the leaderboard,” I say and point behind me.
Ian rolls his eyes with a smile, obviously regretting bragging to me about his status here.
Jessie and Mac turn to look and then turn back, eyebrows raised, obviously impressed.
“Exactly how long have you been bowling?” Jessie asks.
Ian shrugs. “My dad and I went when I was young. It’s one of the things he and I did without my sisters. I have three older sisters,” he says for Jessie and Mac’s sake. “It turned out to be the only sport I was actually good at.”
“Did you compete?” Mac asks.
“Some,” Ian says.
“And did you win?” I ask.
“Some.”
“You know you can brag on yourself,” Jessie says as Ian heads to the keyboard to punch in our names.
He shrugs, and a red splotch appears on his neck.
This guy has more humility than I’ve ever seen in a theater kid, and definitely more than your average college kid. This is, I’m realizing, part of what makes him so enjoyable to be around. His ego doesn’t take up half the room. I’m guessing if we went to his childhood home, there would be a case packed with bowling trophies.
“Do you still compete?” I ask.
“Just when there’s a tournament with the league. I don’t solo-compete anymore.”
“Anymore,” I mouth to Jessie in a stage whisper, and she raises her eyebrows and gives me a “this guy contains multitudes” look.
“All right, order of the game is Mac, Jessie, Jade, and then me. Mac, are you ready to go?”
“I think we need to pick out balls,” Mac says and points to me and Jessie as if to confirm.
“I definitely need to pick out some balls,” I say more loudly than is socially appropriate, and Mac snort-laughs, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Jessie does the same but hides her face in her hands. Ian tries to fight a smile.
“We can’t take you anywhere,” Jessie says and drags me by the arm to one of the bowling ball stands located behind us.
“Wait—shouldn’t we ask the professional to help us pick out balls?” I say, escaping from Jessie’s grasp to clamp down on Ian’s arm and drag him over with us. He follows as willingly as one can when they’re being half-dragged.
