“Okay, you play in the middle. Take the serve if you can, and we’ll act as your backup.” I look to the girls. “Don’t be afraid to go for it if the birdie, shuttlecock thingy, comes at you. Let’s be aggressive and get some momentum going. I can’t take ten shots.”

Celia nods. “Us either.”

“Let’s do this, then. Yeah?” Familiar pep and enthusiasm, the same kind that helps me on the sand for volleyball, lifts my spirits and amps up the enjoyment. Being competitive isn’t just about winning. It’s this feeling of importance and fun—capturing a moment. Sure I’m capturing it in a win/lose mindset, but the adrenaline and the thrill is what I’ll remember far beyond the outcome of a random game of badminton one summer night.

Well, adrenaline, the thrill, and beating Tanner. Winning is extra sweet when it’s against him.

This time when Willow serves, another perfect shot toward Celia, we’re ready for it.

“Got it,” Biff calls and Celia steps out of the way as he hits the birdie and sends it up toward me. I get it over the net, Tanner sends it back with a determined glint in his eye, and Biff hits it again, landing it between Tanner and Willow.

Hands over head, I’m maybe a little too overzealous about a single point while we’re still down by five. Still, it gets us the desired energy bump and the game is more interesting after that. Tanner has an easy strength and power about him that makes him good at any sport and it’s no shocker that badminton is among them.

He works hard at basketball and baseball, don’t get me wrong, but the guy has a natural athleticism that gives him an advantage in anything requiring his body. And I’m pretty sure that covers all physical pursuits. Here’s hoping.

Mind back on the game, I admit to myself maybe I was a little too confident about my own abilities of dominating any sport with a net and a ball because Willow is real close to showing me up. I admire it about her as much as I want to slam a cock in her face…. a shuttlecock, I mean.

“Game point,” Tanner says as he prepares to serve.

“Don’t you have to win by two?” I ask.

His brows raise and one side of his mouth lifts. “Do you really want to take two shots instead of one?”

Ugh, no, but if they get this point then it’s over. Two serves and there’s at least one more opportunity to turn the tables on them.

“I’m ready to be done. I want to get in the pool,” Molly says, and Celia nods her agreement.

“All right,” I acquiesce.