Chapter 4
Saturday morning on the bus, I clutch my mittened hands together and try not to shake. Everyone around me has a case of jitters. Papers and note cards scatter across the floor, soaking up the puddles left from the dirty snow that clings to our good shoes. The ride to our first tournament at Worthington High School is way too short.
All the teams gather in the cafeteria, each school with its own table, except for Winnetka, which has commandeered three entire tables. Ben halts and the rest of us crash into him.
“Whoa. How many people do they have?” he asks.
“About thirty,” Tory says, although how she forces the words through her clenched jaw, I’m not sure.
“Kind of like David and Goliath,” I say.
Tory throws me a look that might be gratitude.
“David and who?” This is Ben. Of
