The Extra Who Shouldn't Exist novel Chapter 381

Chapter 381: Chapter 381 : Fatty

Cool night air hit Alex’s face like a blessing as they walked away from the horror house ruins. Behind them, the structure sat in chaotic silence—broken walls gaping open, exposed wiring sparking faintly, a cluster of very confused actors being herded away by frantic staff yelling into radios.

Alex didn’t look back.

Alicia did.

Then she burst out laughing again, holding her stomach. "Oh my god. You actually destroyed it."

"I panicked," Alex muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought something was about to jump out."

"You screamed," she said cheerfully. "Then you punched and destroyed the building itself."

He sighed. "Please don’t tell people about it. Absolutely not Alden and Lily."

She bumped her shoulder into his playfully. "No promises."

They reached the parking lot. Alex glanced at her sideways.

"So," he said, trying to sound casual, "what now?"

She stopped walking.

Turned to face him fully.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief under the streetlights.

"Bowling."

He blinked. "Bowling?"

"Yep." She pointed ahead to the glowing sign across the plaza. The crash of pins echoed faintly through the open doors, laughter and upbeat music spilling out. "We’re clearly terrible with horror. Let’s do something fun."

Alex narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You just want another excuse to bully me."

She smiled sweetly, batting her lashes. "Absolutely."

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Fine. Lead the way."

---

The bowling alley was loud and warm, a vibrant contrast to the horror house—a hive of neon lights, thumping pop music, groups of friends cheering each other’s turns, the comforting thunder of pins exploding apart. Lanes stretched out in rows, shoes clacking on polished wood, scoreboards glowing brightly overhead.

Alex sat on the plastic bench, lacing up rented shoes, trying to ignore the growing sense of dread as the scoreboard lit up above their lane.

Alicia: 173

Alex: 62

Alex stared at it.

Long.

Hard.

"...It’s the ball, yeah, definitely the ball," he said finally. "It’s rigged."

Alicia leaned back against the ball return, sipping her fizzy drink through a striped straw. "You said that after your third gutter."

"That one slipped."

"And how the hell are you so good at this?" Alex demanded. "Did you play this your whole life?"

Alicia smirked. "What can I say? I’m a genius, after all."

Alex’s eye twitched. She was using his own line against him.

Alicia rolled her shoulders loosely, grabbed another heavy ball with easy confidence, and stepped up to the foul line. Her form was perfect—smooth approach, wrist snap, release.

Strike.

Pins exploded apart in a perfect scatter.

The machine reset with a clatter.

Alex groaned and let his head fall back against the wall. "I hate today."

She laughed and sat beside him, their shoulders brushing warmly. "Hey. You survived. That’s something."

"I lost," he said quietly. "Miserably."

She looked at him for a moment—no teasing this time, just soft understanding.

Then she leaned in close.

Soft hands cupped his face gently.

She kissed him.

Quick.

Gentle.

Warm, tasting faintly of cherry soda.

When she pulled back, she smiled. "Consolation prize."

Alex blinked, still processing, cheeks warm. "...You’re evil."

She grinned brighter. "And you’re still losing."

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