Kat parked the car, and we stepped out. This place was exactly as I remembered it. We used to come here a lot with just Dad since Mom was a sore loser. Whenever she lost a game, she'd get all gloomy and make us go straight home.
Say what you will about Mom—she might have those Shaolin flying deadly shoe techniques she claims to have learned from an ancient clan in the mountains of China, but she's not athletic at all.
The vibrant signs were still eye-catching, despite how familiar this place was to us. As we walked through the entryway to the medieval-themed mini-golf courses, I looked over at Kat.
"Why'd you pick this place? With the bowling alley, you'd at least have a sliver of a chance at winning," I said, giving her a playful taunt.
Kat smiled. "Wanna bet?" she replied, rising to the challenge.
Before I answered, we approached the ticket booth by the entrance, bought our tickets, and headed further inside.
