Chapter 9

Sherie and Shauna stopped and stared. They had just gone through the doorway labelled Bikini Bowlarama -- "Too cute!" Sherie had squealed -- and were inside the place. Now, they took in the scene before them, then looked at each other.

"Is this the most happening scene or is it the most happening scene?!" they said in unison. It was their trademark line, and ever since they'd hit upon it back in their Second Year at Sophia's, years ago, they'd got in the habit of chanting it everytime they found something really cool. They sang it now, and meant it like never before.

It was the most happening scene all right. Even the twins, with all their worldly ways and experience, had never seen anything like it before. And between the two of them, they thought they'd almost everything there was to see. But this was massive cool. Happening majorly. Smokin'. Totally chill. The Swingingest scene in town.

They were in the hugest bowling center they'd ever been in before. The place looked like it went on for miles -- a trick achieved by the use of beautiful wall-to-wall floatglass mirrors. Sherie counted off at least forty bowling lanes, which looked like thrice as many because of all the mirrors. It was a completely imported alley, American style, bright primary colours, computer controls, the works. Along the left, stretching right from this side to the far end was the longest bar they'd ever seen. It looked like it could seat an army of alcoholics!

The place was packed from end to end with the brightest, most glamorous faces and bods in the city ... correction, in the country. The hosts had taken care to invite every model, film star and wannabe model or actor in the country, just to glam up the place. And it had worked brilliantly. It looked like one massive audition for MTV Veejays!

But all this wasn't what made it so Swinging. All this you could have seen even at a couple of other chic places in town, like The Bowling Company or Buddy's or whatever. If not on such an epic scale.

What really made the Bikini Bowlarama so incredible was the fact that it literally lived up to its name.

Every single person there was dressed in only string bikinis. Bright, gaudy, fluorescent-coloured strips and knots that revealed more than they covered. Barely concealing the vital parts of the hundred-odd partymaniacs in the place. Every time someone swooped to deliver an 8-pound blue ball down the concourse, you were treated to a flash of flesh. Every time someone swivelled on her seat at the bar, you were given a glimpse of gluteals. Every time someone whooped with excitement as he scored a perfect ten-pin knockdown, you saw a lot more than perfect abs rippling.

Awed speechless, Sherie tapped her twin sister on the shoulder. Her mouth hanging open, Shauna turned and looked in the direction her sister was pointing: At the rows of lockers on the right hand side of the Bowlarama. People were going there dressed in party clothes and returning clad in only the skimpy bikinis. In case you had any doubts, there was a large stylishly painted sign which read BIKINIS AND BOWLING BOOTS ONLY.

Shauna shut her mouth at last. "Sis?" she said. "What the frick are we waiting for?"

"Go for it," Sherie replied.

They raced each other to the lockers, unbuttoning and unzipping as they ran.