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wondered if it would come to a complete stop before it reached the pins. I tried coaching her—I wasn’t a great bowler myself, but I knew the basics—but Amelia ignored me. Clearly she had decided that if I was going to make her participate in nonmusical activities, she would do her best to make the outings as unpleasant for me as possible. So far, her plan was working splendidly.
    “Good job,” I said when Amelia had finally put a bit of heft in her toss and managed to knock down five pins.
    “Whatever.”
    I could feel my temper reach its breaking point. “This isn’t supposed to be torture.”
    “You could have fooled me. You’re the one who made me come here,” Amelia retorted.
    “I thought it would be fun,” I said.
    “I didn’t,” Amelia said. She shrugged her thin shoulders. “You can make me bowl, but you can’t make me enjoy it.”
    “There’s the spirit,” I muttered.
    “Hey, foxy ladies,” a familiar voice said.
    I turned, and saw Finn slouching over, his hands stuck in his pockets. He looked pleased with himself. I hoped he hadn’t finally realized his life’s ambition of successfully hacking into the CIA’s computer system.
    “Hey,” I said, holding up my borrowed purple bowling ball. “What are you doing here?”
    “I have a hot date,” Finn said.
    “Does anyone ever say they have a cold date? Or a lukewarm date?” I asked.
    “Not me,” Finn said. “I only go for the hotties.”
    “Lovely,” I said. “Who’s your date? That girl you met here the other day?”
    “Yep,” Finn said smugly. He regarded Amelia. “Hello. You must be Miranda’s underling.”
    “Finn,” I said warningly. Then, turning to Amelia, I said, “Amelia, this is my friend Finn. Finn, this is Amelia.”
    “Hi,” Amelia said so softly, I wasn’t sure she’d spoken at first. I glanced at her, and saw that her eyes had gone very large and very round, and she was staring at Finn as though he had personally invented the piano.
    Uh-oh , I thought. I hoped Amelia wasn’t developing a crush on Finn. Crushes are never easy. And crushing on an older teenage computer genius who lacks a moral compass is an especially bad idea.
    “We should probably get back to our game,” I said, holding up my bowling ball.
    But Finn—who has never grasped a subtle hint in his life—sat down on one of our lane seats. “I have some time to kill before Phoebe gets here. I’ll hang with you while I wait.”
    “Lucky us,” I said, without enthusiasm.
    While I bowled a spare, I could hear Finn chatting with Amelia.
    “I hear you’re a musical prodigy,” he said.
    “I don’t know about that,” Amelia said modestly.
    “Are you one of those people who can hear a song once and play it perfectly?” Finn asked.
    “No,” Amelia said.
    “That’s too bad. That would be a cool thing to be able to do. Almost like a superpower,” he said. Then, reconsidering, he said, “Or maybe a minor superpower. I mean, it’s not like being able to morph into an animal or run faster than the speed of light.”
    “I can play Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto Number Three,” Amelia said. “It’s one of the most difficult pieces a pianist can attempt.”
    “That’s pretty cool,” Finn said.
    “Your turn,” I said to Amelia. She reluctantly got up and retrieved her bowling ball from the return. I noticed that she had dropped the sullen attitude for the first time all day. I guessed it was for Finn’s benefit.
    I sat down next to Finn. “You’re meeting Phoebe here?” I said.
    “Yep,” Finn said.
    “You couldn’t think of a better place for a first date?”
    “What’s better than bowling?”
    “I don’t know. A nice dinner out. A walk on the beach. A surprise trip to Paris,” I suggested.
    Finn wrinkled his nose. “That’s a bit obvious, don’t you think?”
    “But bowling is subtle?” I asked.
    “Exactly,” Finn said. “Subtle and cool in a retro, old-school sort of way. Plus, I’m an excellent bowler, so