Your head turns slowly towards Catherine after she fails to restrain a small chuckle. You know the strength of your glare must hit her as your eyes meet hers, but it serves only to make her laugh more. You narrow your eyes as she turns her back on you to try to control her giggling, and you are about to speak when a small hand prods you in the arm, reminding you that you are supposed to be concentrating on what is going on around you. You smile at the owner of the hand, and return to your current task.
When you next have opportunity to look in Catherine's direction a flash of light blinds you. Wishing you had a hand free to rub your eyes, you fight through your furious blinking and try your best to send her a look that tells her she had better destroy that picture. But when you can finally see past the coloured spots, the smug look on her face assures you that is never going to happen.
"Catherine!" you say, warning dripping from the word.
She smiles innocently and that is your undoing. That is always your undoing. You were going to argue, to put up some sort of fight, but she's giving you the look she knows you can't resist.
You shake your head in defeat, and let it fall. "How did I let you talk me into this?" you laugh to yourself.
She asks you to repeat that because she didn't hear you, but you tell her you were just mumbling about a pain in your knee. You don't need her to give you the answer. It's in the question. You let her talk you into it because it's her.
So - even though it means you are now precariously balanced with your feet crossed, and your arms on opposite sides of the mat; and despite the fact that your arms and legs are protesting about holding your body in that position - you stretch your left hand over Lindsey's head, to place it on red, as instructed.
Because you said you would play.
Because you let her talk you into this.
Because it's Catherine.
And you'd do anything for her.