Sour Sweet fired the arrow. Hit the outer ring.
Eye twitched.
Immediately drew another. Fired. Again, hit the ring.
WHY was she FAILING!?
Only her parents watched, several yards away. Several yards from each other too. Dad cooed, raising a teacup. Mom growled, fist shaking.
Sour Sweet drew her third.
She imagined the target was Dad, with his sappy, meaningless inanities. Nice guys finished first!?
She fired.
Hit the inner ring. ARRGH! Drew her fourth.
Next, she imagined it was Mom. Screw everyone! Do anything! She wasn’t the much-despised CEO of Grindstone Technologies for nothing!
She fired.
Bull’s-eye.
Her own eye twitched; Dad swooned, Mom muttered, “About time.” But Sour Sweet, Daddy’s pwecious widdle angel, thanked them soooo hard!
Inside, she fought not to shoot either of them. No, she’d learn from their extremes. Their mistakes.
She fired a fifth.
Skewered the first bull’s-eye.
She’d always hit the sweet spot.