The main motivation for inviting Alice bowling is because I crave to see her in her own element. Taking her to the gallery had been less painful than I thought it would be. I had no reason to dread it at all. I’m really enjoying spending time with her, and even though I’ve never bowled from a wheelchair, I’m looking forward to watching her do one of the activities I used to enjoy as a child.

But the moment we enter the bowling alley, my excitement plummets. Instead of filling me with excitement, the sounds of balls hitting pins, people cheering, music blaring, and children shouting cause a panicked feeling to erupt within me. Suddenly, I’m transported back to how it used to be, to the days when my brothers and I, wearing ugly bowling shoes, took turns sending balls crashing into pins, while we cheered, joked, and laughed. That was all before fate got in the way.

Maybe it was a mistake coming here. Maybe I’ll never be ready to be in certain places again.

My skin prickles as I feel Alice’s eyes on me, as she waits for the woman behind the counter to finish spraying shoes with deodorant so she can attend to us.

When our eyes meet, she says something to me, but it’s too loud for me to hear the words. I read them from her lips instead.

“Are you okay?”

I nod, but she bends down to whisper in my ear. “Should we get out of here?”

“We’re not going anywhere.” I force a smile. “You’re not getting out of this easily, lady. I want to see those skills of yours.”

A few minutes later, Alice and Juan are carrying balls and shoes and we’re headed to our reserved bowling area. Although the bowling alley is adapted to wheelchair users, and I came here intending to participate, I changed my mind at the last minute. Watching will be a big step in itself.

I sit back and watch Alice and Juan playing, but it’s obvious she’s not enjoying herself. She’s trying, but failing miserably. Her eyes keep drifting back to my face every few minutes, her expression clouded.

The entire time, the fake smile doesn’t leave my face. It’s especially hard to keep up the act when everybody is staring and pointing at me, and I have no idea whether it’s because I’m a LaClaire or because I’m wheelchair-bound. Whatever it is, it makes me feel uncomfortable.

I would give anything to be out of here, but the last thing I want to do is let Alice down.

“Lance, are you sure we shouldn’t get out of here?” My mind must have been so far away that I didn’t notice Alice coming to stand before me.

I shake my head. “No way. I’m having fun. Go and have fun. Kick Juan’s ass.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she returns to Juan and they continue to play. Every time she looks at me, my smile stretches tighter on my face. After they play for fifteen minutes, I order us some drinks and they take a break. Alice is leading, and she looks like she’s starting to enjoy herself.

My pain is a small price to pay. Just as they’re about to return to the game, three guys in their mid-twenties walk by. One of the men says something to Alice in English with a British accent.

“Hey, lady, couldn’t you find a real man?” His friends shake with laughter, slapping each other’s backs.

“Can he even get it up?” The guy continues. “How about a real dick for your pussy?”

My stomach drops when I catch the horror on Alice’s face. Fire explodes in my belly and pushes itself up my throat. As the men walk away, it boils over.

“Hey, you,” I call after them and they turn to look. I point at the guy who’d made the remarks. I wave him over.

He points at his chest with a thumb and I nod.

“I need to tell you something,” I say.

The guy looks at his friends, shrugs, and walks toward me, chest puffed out. I can feel everyone watching, the room expanding with tension.

The driver comes to my side and places a hand on my shoulder.

“Should I do something?” he asks.

I wave him away. “I’ve got this.”

“What’s up, vegetable?” The asshole stands an arm’s length away from me.

I gesture for him to bend so I can speak in his ear. When he does, I curl my right hand into a fist and drive it into his face, enjoying the crunching sound.

He can disrespect me. I’m used to it. But I could not let them get away with disrespecting Alice.

“Fuck.” Groaning, he grabs his nose and stumbles back as the entire place erupts with laughter and cheers. Even his friends are laughing.

“I’m a better man than you’ll ever be.” I ignore the fire in my knuckles. The pain is worth it.

The guy lunges forward, but Juan gets between us to restrain him. He shakes Juan off, jabs a finger in my direction, and slinks off.

Alice’s eyes are glinting with tears as she rushes to my side. “Lance, please, let’s go. I’ve had enough fun, seriously.”

“Fine, let’s get out of here.” I massage my knuckles. Anger still burns in my veins.

“Are you all right?” I ask Alice once we’re settled in the car and she’s staring out the window.

“I should ask you that question.” She turns to face me. A film of tears still clouds her eyes.

“I’ve been better,” I admit, “but this is one of those things I have to deal with sometimes.”

“Some people are so cruel. It’s disgusting.”

“I agree. But unfortunately, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“You were really brave to stand up for me back there.” She places a hand on mine and I flinch but don’t move away.

“That was nothing. He needed to be taught a lesson.” I clear my throat. “I’m sorry the evening went to hell. I promise to make it up to you tomorrow.”

She removes her hand from mine and folds her arms across her chest. “You know what, Lance, you don’t have to put yourself through all this. I’m sorry I said you’re afraid of living. It’s not true. I take it back. You don’t need to prove yourself.”

“That means a lot.” This time I take her hand in mine but change my mind and pull away. I can’t afford to get close to her, not after what happened tonight. “Tomorrow is about you, not me.”