*Chloe*
“Come on, girl," Connie said, slurring her words as she tugged on my sleeve. “Sink this s**t! You got this."
I squinted my eyes, trying to focus on the red solo cup sitting across the kitchen island from me. The ping pong ball between my fingers and thumb wasn't just a toy. It was the instrument of my foe's destruction. Well, the destruction of their ego.
I didn't look at the tattooed wanna-be punk football player across the counter from me. At one time, someone with hair and tats like his would have been banned from the team. But in the new era, his tattoos somehow make him more approachable, at least to the NCAA's rating board.
I bounced the ping pong ball, giving it just the slightest bit of English to spin it on its axis. The ball struck the counter and then bounced with pi
