“Number seventeen?” Colby asks, smoothing the vest down over his mesh shirt. “I’m thinking we’ve got a ways to wait, no?”
The look she gives him is murderous. “The number is completely arbitrary. They printed the program up days ago so all they have listed are team numbers and match times. When you register, you get a number at random. Then you have to find where you are in the program…”
She trails off, running a finger down the list of games to see when their first match will be. Colby takes a moment to look around—this is his first tournament, and he can’t deny the little seed of excitement that has begun to blossom in the pit of his stomach. Last year he watched from the sidelines; Megan’s teammate then was her younger brother Billy, who will start college at the end of the month. He
