Gifted | Sleepy Bois Inc

Chapter Twenty-Three

I blinked. Somehow, he had really spouted some wise words right there and completely caught me off-guard. But he was right. Maybe what I was lacking was the ability to be flexible. Instead of being completely focused on improving in the sport, I should've been improving on my ability to read people.

Skeppy served the birdie. "You always miss shots that come to your left," he said as I failed to receive. "Moving your arm in that direction and flicking your wrist like that probably feels strange to your body, which is why it's rejecting it. Try moving back a bit."

I did as he instructed. He tossed another birdie and hit it over the net, aiming right towards my left. My feet shuffled back a couple steps. I swung. To my surprise, the net of my racquet hit the birdie and sent it flying back perfectly.

"See?" Skeppy grinned. "You have to understand your own body just as well as that of your opponent. Understand your surroundings, too. Understand everything."

"Like the universe," I said sarcastically. "And quantum mechanics, the way light travels in waves and the rippling effect that has on its surroundings, the sound a cat makes when it sneez---"

"Not everything in such a wide sense," Skeppy said, sounding irritated and fed up at my nonsense. "Everything as in the things that actually matter to you at the moment."

"Like how hungry I am," I offered.

From the bench, Tommy covered a snicker. "Wow, you suck at talking to people as much as you suck at this sport." He scratched his head. "What are you playing again? Squash?"

"No. Badminton."

"Was it tennis?"

"Badminton."

"Ah," Tommy said with a knowing nod. "Ping pong. Sorry for missing that."

I resisted the urge to chuck my racquet at the boy's head --- a feat a thousand times harder than fighting Smiley one-on-one.

Skeppy laughed. His fingers moved swiftly, straightening the bent feathers on the birdie. "See, Tommy is a good example. He understands his opponent --- which in this case, is the person he's trying to annoy or make laugh. That's you. He knows which buttons to press and what things to say to be hilarious."

"He's Tommy," I said, as if that explained everything.

"You're just not good at reading people," Skeppy told me.

"That is not true."

Skeppy shrugged. "Seems pretty true to me. Here, let's try this: What did you learn about Smiley when you fought him?"

I considered his question. "He's fast," I offered. "Very skilled with his weapon. Smart."

I thought I had answered pretty well, but Skeppy only shook his head. "Too vague. I could say that about nearly anyone. See? You can't read people."

The birdie whizzed towards my face. Reflexively, I ducked. The birdie hit the ground just to the left of the white line, signalling that it was still in and that Skeppy had earned another point.

"What about me, then?" I demanded. "Read me. Be my fortune teller."

Skeppy eyed me up and down, then shrugged again. "You care about saving your own skin," he said as I went to pick up the fallen birdie. "You care more about protecting yourself than you do your pride. But still, your ego is big. You can't let anyone beat you at anything."

I scowled at him. "You suck at fortune telling. I'm not like that."

"You are, though," he insisted. "Like right now. You're losing to me in badminton, and your temper is starting to rise. You're losing to me in the ability to read others, and you're starting to become defensive. Don't you see it?"