Friday, July 19, 2013

Volleyball


Every year my family goes to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, usually for Thanksgiving. My mom hates making Thanksgiving dinner, and we all prefer fish tacos anyway.

We have friends that go on holiday to Cabo too. The family has two kids that are roughly the same ages as my brother and me. Once, we children were playing pool volleyball and being quite rowdy. There are three massive pools that are emptied during Thanksgiving, yet one couple decided to sit down directly in front of us—the only other people in sight. Eventually the volleyball was hit too far in the air, and it crashed upon the couples’ table—to no one’s surprise but theirs. It spilled one of their drinks, and they looked livid.

“Oh! We’re so sorry!” I said. The woman glared at us with the rage of a thousand suns. “We will buy you another, if you want.”

“That would be nice,” the man said, ruffled. My brother and I raised eyebrows and looked at each other. There was a pause.

“We were just being nice,” my brother said. “You probably shouldn’t have sat there.”