Page 117 of The Build-a-Boyfriend Project

And as if on cue, from the large group of three dozen people gathered at the first four lanes, a tall blonde woman dressed in what Eli can only describe as very normal clothes beams brightly when she sees Peter inching closer.

“Oh my God! Peter!”

The woman stands up from the table where she’s been nursing a Pepsi cup, racing over to wrap Peter in a tight hug, her arms thrown over his shoulders.

“Hey, Francine.” He hugs her back, the smile clear on his face.

“I was so worried that you were going to bail again.”

“Yeah, well . . . I’m trying this new thing,” he says.

“We’re calling it socializing,” Eli adds.

“Oh, you’re Eli, right? Patricia’s friend?”

“That’s me.” Eli holds out his hand, but she ignores it, wrapping him in a similar hug.

“Sorry, I’m a hugger!” she says with a smile when Eli makes a surprised noise.

“That’s okay!” Eli tells her.

“We haven’t been here for long, come on.” She takes Peter by the hand. “Everyone’s been dying to meet you, officially, of course. You too, Eli, Peter’s been talking all about you.”

Eli gives Peter a sly look.

To their credit, his coworkers are all excited to see Peter, a few of them meeting him for the first time, which is hilarious given how long he’s worked at Zelus. He’s forced to make the rounds, which means that Eli is right there beside him, holding Peter’s hand through it all as he’s introduced as “Peter’s friend” over and over again.

“Oh! Spider-Man!” one of his coworkers, a man named Daniel, exclaims at Peter’s costume.

Peter looks at Eli with a smile.

“Do you want a turn, Peter?” Francine asks.

“Oh, I’m okay.” He takes a seat at the tall table near the back of the lane, where different sizes and colors of bowling balls that aren’t being used are stored.

“Come on, you can take mine,” Francine tells him. “Can’t do much worse than I already have.” One look at the screen that hangs from the ceiling is evidence enough of that, with a Jedi Knight nearing a perfect score save for a 7-10 split, and a woman dressed as Chappell Roan getting another strike.

“Oh, really, I, uh . . . I’m okay,” Peter says, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“What about you, Eli?” Francine shifts her focus, as if she’s aware of how nervous Peter is.

“Yeah, sure! I’ll go!” Eli tells her, daring to let go of Peter’s hand, though there’s that lingering touch, the kind that tells him that Peter doesn’t actually want him to leave. Eli looks back at him, silently promising that it will be okay.

He goes to the automated ball return, selecting a ball with holes that fit his fingers before he steps up to the line in front of the lane. Taking just a few paces back, he glides toward the lane again, letting the ball go a little too late, meaning that it lands on the polished wooden floor with a thud before it actually begins to roll, drifting left and left and left until it sinks right into the gutter.

Eli glances back, grateful that only a few people seem to have noticed the blunder. Then there’s Peter; his gaze is focused solely on Eli, and he’s got this precious smile on his face.

Eli takes his short stroll of shame back to the ball dispenser, waiting for the familiar neon green to make an appearance before he tries it again. This time he’s a little more successful, managing to knock down exactly one pin before the rest of the pins are taken down with the bar of the pinsetter.

“One’s not so bad,” Francine says as Eli joins the two of them at the tall table with the extra bowling balls. “Better than I’ve been averaging all night.”

“Are you guys thirsty?” Peter spouts out of nowhere. “I’m thirsty, so I’m going to get drinks; do you guys want anything?”

“I’m good.” Francine grabs a near-empty cup and shakes the ice around.

Eli doesn’t want anything, so he just watches as Peter very awkwardly shuffles over toward the concessions area, joining the short line there.

“So . . .” Francine sips what remains of her drink. “You’re super cute together.”