Page 56 of Dating and Dragons

Logan strides through the parking lot after school Monday and comes around to the passenger side of my car. It’s quite the reversal to be driving someone else around, but my parents were so thrilled when they heard we were playing with Grandma that they readily agreed to carpool and let me take the second car.

“Are you ready for this?” I ask, and try to ignore how heat floods my veins as he sits down.

Logan grins. “You mean, am I ready to have my life changed forever?”

“You betcha.” I put the car in reverse. I’m not sure how this afternoon is going to go, but if the way my body is jangling from his mere presence is any indication, I’ll be tripping over my own feet and crashing into the net.

“Did you Google this weird game to figure out what we’re in for?”

I shake my head. “I didn’t have time. I figure it can’t be too intense if Grandma does it. I’m sure we can pick it up.”

“I have pretty good hand-eye coordination, so I’m giving her a run for her money.” He winks. “I can’t let her off tooeasy.”

A short while later, we pull into the parking lot of the sports complex where the indoor pickleball courts are located. Grandma is standing by the entrance next to a man who must be ten years her senior. He’s wearing a Marines Veteran baseball cap and a tight white shirt with a gold chain. Logan and I quickly glance at each other in concern. This really does not seem like a good idea, but they certainly look serious. Grandma is even wearing workout clothes—lavender joggers, a long-sleeved black shirt, and tennis shoes—which is wild when I’m used to seeing her in vibrant dress clothes and pearls. I traded out my usual sweaters and skirts for a pair of embroidered jeans and a long-sleeved shirt covered with constellations, but that’s as close as I’ve gotten to workout clothes. Logan’s wearing the same things he always does. That’s a relief because he’s distracting enough when he’s wearing jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. I couldn’t keep my eyes to myself if he was wearing tight athletic gear.

“You made it!” she calls. “See, I knew you kids wouldn’t blow us off. You’re too good to do that.” She turns to the man. “You shouldn’t have second-guessed them, Jim.”

“I was just worried we wouldn’t be able to play today. It’s the highlight of my week.”

I inwardly groan. I have to play a weird gameandwatch an old man flirt with my grandma? No thank you.

They sign us in and walk us back to the courts. I wasnervous about hanging out with Logan after yesterday, but this is the opposite of awkward—it’s easy and laid-back. This is exactly the kind of thing I should be doing with him, where there’s no tension and we can just have fun. Plus, I like seeing this playful side of him.

“Do you need to get changed?” she asks.

“We’ll be fine.”

“Suit yourself.” She hands us two large paddles that look like oversized Ping-Pong paddles. At first glance, our court appears to be a shrunken tennis court with lines drawn a little differently. The realization makes me even less worried about the whole thing. I’m not a tennis pro by any means, but I’ve played before, so I feel pretty comfortable. Logan also looks unbothered.

“Are you kids ready to get your butts handed to you?” Grandma asks.

Logan hoots with laughter. “I see the trash talk starts immediately. I wouldn’t be too confident, though. We’ve got this.” Logan and I high-five in early celebration. Grandma serves and my first impression is that you need to be fast with pickleball. In tennis, the court is big enough that you can often get a moment of lag time to assess where the ball is going to land and then ready your swing for it, but with this small court, there’s hardly time to think. Logan manages to return the serve, but then Jim’s volleying it at me and I completely miss it. I groan and run to get the ball.

“That’s okay, we’re just warming up,” Logan calls behindme.

Ugh, I don’t want to make a fool of myself. Logan serves this time and Grandma easily returns it. I hit it back, but thenJim returns it hard enough that Logan has to lunge to get it. He misses and Grandma and Jim high-five in delight.

“This is already more fun than playing Elaine and Harvey,” Grandma tells him. “Those two were hard.”

I put a hand on my hip. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

“We haven’t seen anything at all so far,” Jim replies.

“Elderly people are vicious,” Logan whispers.

I smirk and train my eyes across the net before I get distracted by him and miss another point. We do a bit better with the next few serves, even managing to score a few points, but Grandma and Jim are way better at this than I was imagining. Grandma doesn’t even need to move much and she’s still able to hit most of the balls that come her way. Jim is quick to get the others. This time, when Jim serves, Logan lunges forward immediately and hits the ball into Grandma’s court. She’s not ready and lets the ball bounce twice.

“Woot!” Logan yells, and does a butt-shaking victory dance. Of course he has to be adorable even when he’s being a dork. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

“No way, that doesn’t count!” Grandma yells. “You were in the kitchen.”

“In the what?” Logan says.

“You can’t be in the kitchen like that. You have to wait for the ball to bounce.”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. Why is she talking about kitchens in the middle of our game?

“Grandma? We’re playing pickleball. There’s no kitchen here.”

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