Striking a Friendship by Emma Clarke
“Before you pack your bags, you’ve a letter to take home”. It was just before home time on a wet Friday afternoon. I was still getting to know my new classmates and was desperate to get home to play my computer. I shoved the letter into my bag already forgetting about it.
I was just about to hit my top score on “Geo-mite” when mum shouts “Morgan, dinner is ready!” I rush downstairs. It’s pepperoni pizza tonight, my fav. I notice that the letter from school is opened. It’s an invitation to Amelia Kennedys bowling party next week. This is my worst nightmare. I remember having to go to my cousin’s party there when he was turning six. “That’s lovely of Amelia to invite you to her party sweetheart, you’ll have a great time” squeals mum, clearly happy that I’ve been invited to a party at last. “I can’t go” I tell her but before I say why, she tells me that I am and that it’ll be good for me to spend time with some of my new classmates.
It’s the following week, I’m petrified as I follow mum into the bowling alley. I try hiding my face under my hood but struggle with my ear defenders and shades. My hands are sweating whilst I fiddle with the giftbag. The rattle of the pins is echoing around and I’m trying to focus on my shoes to drown it all out.
Abbie goes first, selects a pink ball, a perfect fit for her, and hits a strike straight away. She dances back to see her score before sitting next to me. “Well done, you’re really good” I whisper, still looking at my shoes. I see her head peek down and look at me. She smiles, “Thanks! Morgan, isn’t it?” “Yes”, I meekly reply. I’m up next. I stand up, peering down at my shoes as I pick up the same ball Abbie used. I’m hoping it works for me too. “Go Morgan!” I hear from behind and I realise it can only be Abbie. I line the ball up and give it a hard throw, watching as it hurtles down the lane. I hurry to collect another ball to get my turn over but when I turn around someone is in my way. When I hesitantly look up, I see Abbie standing with her hand out and a friendly smile on her face. I shake her hand and give a faint smile.
Abbie sits with me. She asks lots of questions about what I like and enjoy and before I know it, the party is over and mum has arrived.
I’m relieved to get back to the quiet car. “Did you have fun honey?” mum asks, “yeah” I reply, while watching out the car window.
I’m absorbed in my game of “Geo-mite” when mum walks into my room, I hadn’t heard her with my earphones. “There’s a girl called Abbie at the door; she’s asking if you want to play?”