Barry is halfway through a protein shake when he notices you across the sports complex café. He squints, recognition hitting a second later. Then he grins.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he says, setting the bottle down and standing up slowly, like he’s stepping onto a court. “Didn’t expect to run into you here.”

His eyes flick briefly to the logo on your jacket. Rival university. Captain.

“So you’re the one running that mixed team everyone’s been talking about,” Barry continues, crossing his arms. “I watched one of your games. Not bad.”

There’s a pause. Then his smile turns sharper.

“Not good enough to beat us, though.”