“We’re definitely not going to win this tournament,” groaned Val, looking at the newest addition to Team 8.

The little girl took her dress in her hands and began gnawing on the hem.

“You sure you’re in the right place?” DJ asked, kneeling in front of the little girl.

She ignored him, instead slumping to the ground and wrapping her skinny arms around her skinny legs.

The three of them sat at the table labeled “Team 8” in the basement. There were seven other tables set up for the other teams, most already filled. For some reason, the only person who had come to their table was this strange little girl that definitely did not seem like an Avalon player.

“Her dad is probably the one playing,” said DJ. “Don’t worry.”

“If he is, he’s cutting it pretty close,” said Val, checking his phone. “Just like the rest of our team.”

“For real,” said DJ, glancing around at the other tables. “Seems like we’re the last team to be filled.”

“I knew this was a bad idea,” said Val.

“We should start stretching,” said DJ. “The first round is supposed to be best of three.”

Val grunted, having already fallen into his habit of stretching his quads and calves.

“What up what up!” said Elle, popping by their table. After glancing around, she tilted her head to one side. “Where’s the rest of your team?”

“Good question,” said Val. “I have a better one. Can I have my $25 back?”

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Elle grimaced, as if she felt any sort of sympathy to Val’s pain. “No can do. You already signed the waiver.”

“So if we don’t have enough players…”

“That’s right,” said Elle, shaking her head sadly. “You’ll have to pay a $25 disqualification fee.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Val roared, eyes bulging. “What the frick is a disqualification fee?”

“It was in the fine print on the waiver,” said Elle, lip twitching into a sneer.

“Heh,” said Val. “I hate my life.”

“Another question, ma’am!” said DJ, waving at Elle. “This little girl seems to have lost her parents and wandered over to our table.”

Elle glanced around. “What little girl?”

Val and DJ pointed their fingers at the little girl sitting at the table.

“Oh!” said Elle. “This is Willow. She’s a little shy, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy having her on your team. She just wanted some friends to play with!”

Val put his face in his hands.

“If the rest of your team isn’t here by 3 pm, I’m going to have to disqualify you,” said Elle. “And don’t forget – you’ll have to pay the disqualification fee too!”

Elle skipped away, practically oozing money-lust.

“They’ve got two minutes to show,” said DJ, glancing over the crowd with his superior height. “Doesn’t look like – oh shoot!”

DJ dropped to a crouch behind their table.

“What’s wrong?” asked Val.

“Don’t worry about it,” hissed DJ. “Just…someone I know.”

“And then I jumped out into the middle of the road,” said a voice defined by its confident drawl. “I grabbed the dog in my arms and rolled out of the way just in time. Any slower and I woulda been roadkill.”

“Oh Blaze, you’re so brave!” said a girl’s voice.

“Not just brave,” said Blaze. “I’m fast.”

“Team 8 is right here!” said the girl.

A moment later, a young man and lady emerged through the crowd to stand before Val. The boy had curly blonde hair that fell to his shoulders, currently tied back with a headband. He was dressed in leather jacket and designer jeans, exuding wealth and confidence with every movement.

The girl was dressed in a light blue blouse and white skirt, accentuating her pale skin and dark brown hair. She clung to the young man’s arm like it was her last bottle of water in the Sahara Desert.

“Whoa!” said the young man, Blaze. “Is that you, DJ?”

DJ slowly rose from where he was crouched behind the table, keeping his gaze directed at the ground.

“Fancy seeing you here!” said Blaze. “You as bad at this game as you are at basketball?”

Val sighed. We’re definitely not going to win this tournament.