Free Emperors of Time by James Wilson Penn

of
professional soccer players who don’t score as many goals in their career as I
score in a game.  Soccer, you’re lucky if the score is 1-0 by the end, in
basketball both teams can get over a hundred points in the game, and that’s in
about half as much time.
    “Wow!” said Tim,
and then realized that this was information that he, as a pretend basketball
fan, should probably have known.  As Rose and Billy looked at him with
confusion, Tim glanced over at their bowling lane.  “Oh…  I meant
about Julie’s situation.  She has a 7-10 split now.”
    Rose and Billy
looked over at the lane as well.  “Oh,” said Rose.  “Right. 
Well…  get that spare, Julie!”
    Julie smiled at
the three of them and rolled the ball.  Unfortunately, it went right down
the center of the lane, managing to miss not just one, but both of the
pins. 
    Rose was up
next. 
    “So, I hear you
and Tim are in the same French class,” said Julie, sitting down next to Billy,
across from Tim.
    “Yeah,” said
Billy with a grin.  “That class is a bit of a laugh, isn’t it Tim?”
    “Er…  I
guess so,” said Tim.
    “Well, of course
it’s useful, what with France being our biggest foreign ally and all, but some
of the activities Mr. Anderson makes us do are pretty stupid.  Plus, Jimmy
and Ben are pretty cool.  You should work with us more often when we’re
doing group work.”
    They heard Rose
shout a mild curse.  “Sorry!  Gutterball!” she added.
    Tim
laughed.  “You guys actually do work?  Doesn’t look like it in from
where I sit.”
    “Sure…  I
do, anyway.  I’m pulling a 98 in that class.  I guess Jimmy and Ben
are pulling B’s, but they’d be doing worse if I wasn’t there,” Billy
shrugged.  “I’m just good at French, I guess.”
    Rose came back,
having managed to knock down four pins, “You’re up, Tim.”
    Tim got a
spare.  Rose and Julie cheered for him, as Billy got up to bowl.  “I
guess I know who my competition is now.”
    When Tim sat
back down, the two girls were still talking about France.
    “I’ve been to
France, you know,” said Rose.  “Me and my Mom went a couple years
back.  Well…  England, technically, but they’ve all spoken French
there for the last fifty years or so…  We could hardly find anyone who
could speak English with us, just a couple of old people who were alive when
English was still the official language.”
    This time, Billy
only made a spare. 
    “I’ve never been
out of the country,” registered Julie, as she got up for her second
frame. 
    “Me neither,”
said Billy, sitting down and looking back at the game.  “Ah…  Sixers
down by three now.”
    “Oh no!” said
Tim, hoping this was the appropriate response.
    “Yeah,
well…  Remember we still have two more games after this one.  If we
beat Charlotte and San Antonio, we’re in as long as Boston loses one of their
next two,” said Billy. 
    Tim normally considered
himself an intelligent person, except in math class, but he couldn’t follow
this conversation at all.  “Right,” he said, figuring this would at least
be an uncontroversial thing to say. 
    Julie knocked
down nine this time.
    As Rose somehow
managed to use her two throws to knock down the pin on the far right and the
one on the far left, Tim scanned the ticker at the bottom of the screen with
the news feed.  Four Americans were dead in the fighting for the day, but
it was anybody’s guess how many allied, enemy, and civilian deaths figured into
the same amount of fighting.  He made a mental note to check his internet
sources later, although he wasn’t sure why he wanted to know…  He knew it
wouldn’t be good news. 
    Tim knocked down
seven on his first throw and two on his second.
    “He seems
friendly enough,” said Rose in a hushed tone, as Billy went to take his
turn. 
    “Told you so,”
said Julie.
    “I suppose,”
agreed Tim.
    “He’s pretending
not to notice you don’t know anything about