Whining seems like a risk worth taking with her dignity on the line, but Beverly doesn't see the need to say so, too focused on the game and counting down for that. The five seconds give her time to check her aim, eyes narrowed over her raised water pistol, target in sight. Shooting is a bit different than throwing, but enough of the same principles apply that she thinks she'll be able to manage alright.

Then the bell dings to start them off, and her finger immediately pulls back on the trigger, a smile breaking across her face as she watches the little boat rise.