"You have, like, training and stuff," Beverly points out, though she's really only teasing. She might know she has good aim, but he's learned how to shoot, which could be construed as a pretty unfair advantage. She has no intention of letting it be one, though, certain she'll be good enough at whatever games they play that she'll be able to beat him, and that even if he loses, he'll be the one buying dinner. The only thing really on the line is bragging rights, and she won't give those up so easily. "But hey, that's fine. I can still win anyway."

It's nice out here, the lights bright, the weather just about beginning to feel like fall with the breeze off the ocean. This could be — God, she hopes — exactly the distraction she needs.