Crush them all

The morning sunlight poured through the sheer curtains of my hotel room, golden and warm. I stretched lazily in bed, the anticipation for the day ahead sending a tingle of energy through my veins. Today was the day. The beach volleyball tournament. 

I swung my legs out of bed and padded toward the bathroom, already peeling off my sleepwear. The cool tiles beneath my feet jolted me awake as I stepped into the shower.

The hot water cascaded over me, soothing and invigorating all at once. I tilted my head back, letting the warmth melt away the last traces of sleep. 

Today wasn't just about volleyball. It was about proving that Rowena and I were an unbeatable duo. It was about wiping that smug smirk off everyone's face who doubted us including myself. 

I lingered in the shower, my mind racing with strategies and, embarrassingly, fleeting images of the mafia girl's infuriating smirk. Shaking my head, I focused on the task at hand. 

By the time I finished, the steam had fogged up the mirror. I swiped my hand across the glass and stared at my reflection, determination blazing in my red eyes.

My swimsuit a sleek black one-piece with a fiery red stripe down the side fit perfectly. Practical and stylish. 

Grabbing my bag, I headed out of my room to meet Rowena for breakfast. 

"Finally!" Rowena groaned when she saw me. She was already at the table, scarfing down a plate of pancakes like her life depended on it. "I thought you drowned in the shower or something." 

"I needed to be prepared," I said, taking a seat across from her. 

"Prepared to lose?" she teased, her mouth full of syrupy goodness. 

I rolled my eyes. "You're hilarious, Rowena. Remind me to nominate you for stand-up comedy after we crush everyone today." 

Her grin was almost feral. "That's the spirit. But, uh, eat up. You're gonna need energy for all the carrying I'll be doing." 

"Oh, please," I shot back. "You'll be lucky if you touch the ball at all." 

Breakfast quickly devolved into chaos. Rowena tried to steal a piece of toast from my plate, and I retaliated by flicking a grape at her.

It escalated from there, with syrup packets being launched and Rowena nearly choking from laughing too hard. Other guests in the dining area stared, but neither of us cared. 

By the time we left for the beach, my stomach was full, and my sides hurt from laughing. 

The beach was already bustling with energy when we arrived. Umbrellas dotted the sand, colorful and vibrant, while the smell of sunscreen and saltwater filled the air.

A buzz of excitement hung over the crowd as teams warmed up, the sound of volleyballs smacking against hands and sand echoing around us. 

We watched the early matches, assessing our potential opponents. 

"Not exactly Olympic-level competition," Rowena muttered, her eyes scanning the players. 

I nodded. "Yeah, but let's not get cocky. You never know who might surprise us." 

Rowena snorted. "I doubt it. We've got this." 

When it was finally our turn, we stepped onto the court, the sand warm beneath our feet. Our opponents were two guys who looked like they spent more time posing at the gym than actually training for anything. 

The referee blew the whistle, and the game began. 

From the first serve, it was clear we were on a different level. My body moved on instinct, every step, every jump, every hit perfectly synchronized with Rowena's.

We were a well-oiled machine, years of sibling rivalry and teamwork paying off in spades. 

The ball sailed over the net, and I leaped to meet it, spiking it hard into the sand on their side. Point for us. 

Rowena grinned at me as we high-fived. "Told you they couldn't handle us." 

The guys were visibly flustered, their confidence evaporating with every point we scored. They started fumbling, missing serves, and arguing with each other. Meanwhile, Rowena and I were unstoppable, our communication effortless. 

"Mine!" Rowena called, diving for a low shot. She popped the ball up, and I slammed it over the net with a force that drew gasps from the spectators. 

The whistle blew. Another point for us. 

By the time the match ended, the score was a landslide in our favor. The crowd cheered as Rowena and I exchanged a victorious fist bump. 

"That," Rowena said, brushing sand off her knees, "was pure destruction." 

I grinned, wiping the sweat from my brow. "Told you we've still got it." 

As we walked off the court, the announcer's voice boomed over the speakers. 

"And next up in the tournament, we have team fifteen—Rhiannon and Rowena—facing off against… Luncindra and her partner!" 

I froze mid-step, my grin faltering. 

Rowena turned to me, eyebrows raised. "Luncindra? Isn't that—" 

"The sauna girl," I finished, my voice flat. 

Rowena smirked. "Oh, this just got interesting." 

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. Of course, she was here. This hotel wasn't big enough for her to disappear entirely, but I hadn't expected her to enter the tournament. And now, we were going to face her and her partner in the next round. 

Rowena nudged me, her grin mischievous. "Ready to show her how it's done?" 

I forced a smile, my heart thudding in my chest. "Always."