The net swooshed, and Miguel cursed under his breath while the scoreboard ticked another point for Robby. At the rate they were going, his rival was poised to win their little basketball arcade match.
Robby's cocky grin was bad enough, but watching Sam cheer him on was worse.
"Don't just stand there!" Miguel heard Hawk's voice interject from beside him. "You're running out of time."
Shaking his head back to reality, Miguel grabbed the basketball in front of him and shot, scoring. Picking up his momentum, he tossed the next three balls: score, miss, score.
He fought the urge to glance at Robby's tally on the machine beside his. He ignored Mitch yelling pointers behind him, Demetri griping about how one's coordination skills with a ball didn't make him the better man, and Chris hoping aloud that nothing escalated between the dojos and cost him his new job at Golf n' Stuff.
Miss, score, score, miss. Miguel fired one shot after another, not thinking about how they even ended up in this position. All that mattered was beating Robby.
The buzzer went off, ending the game. As both machines regurgitated tickets, Miguel sucked in his breath and looked at the scoreboard. Robby finished with a six-point lead. "Shit," Miguel groaned, running a frustrated hand through his hair.
"Win some, lose some, right?" quipped Robby smartly, stuffing his hands in his pockets while Demetri collected his tickets.
Miguel avoided a mean-spirited comeback, and he lost it on his tongue altogether when he and Sam caught each other's eyes for a second. She looked relieved to see Robby win. Or was it that she just liked watching him lose?
Hawk pulled him from his thoughts again. "You can't let it end like that."
Putting his tickets away, Miguel retorted, "What do you want me to do? He won." Robby always had to come in and take things from him. Sam. Sensei. Now this stupid victory.
"Well, challenge him again," suggested Hawk.
"And do what?" Miguel demanded. "Keep doing this over and over all night?" Embarrass himself even more?
"Until you win," corrected Hawk. When Miguel frowned, he emphasized, "C'mon, you're better at this than Keene, and you know it."
The scoreboard suggested otherwise. "Just lay off it, man," muttered Miguel, his shoulders slumping, not in the mood for this.
He watched how Hawk's nostrils flared, saw his eyes glaring over his shoulder to where Robby and Sam and the rest of Miyagi-Do were heading outside to the mini-golf course. "Then I'll challenge him," Hawk declared.
Miguel felt the weight of how offended Hawk was on his behalf. How humiliated he knew he felt to lose in front of his ex. But this wasn't Hawk's fight. Miguel wouldn't let him fight his battles for him.
So, with a small smile, Miguel promised, "Don't worry, I'll show him what's what on the mats later." Wrapping a hand around Hawk's shoulder, he suggested, "In the meantime, how about I beat you at some air hockey?"