what the hell is a libero?

it was a nice day out (okay, not really that nice, but whatever. it was nice enough). at least, it was a nice enough day to get jack actually interested in volleyball. oddly enough, despite being at camp for, like, ages, he still isn't that fond of volleyball. well, yeah, it looks fun when the apollo kids play it, because they're apollo kids, but volleyball just isn't jack's.. thing. but today, he feels adventurous. kind of. he's wearing a simple, cotton red tee shirt, with the sleeves carefully rolled up and a pair of denim shorts that cut right above his knee. his hair is in, as usual, a nice little quiff. he takes a seat on the grass, still contemplating whether he was going to actually pick that volley ball up or not. 

jack snaps his head upwards when he sees a tall, dark-haired boy walking up to him. the guy's grinning, and he asks, "hey.. you a son of demeter? i think we're in a team, bro."
jack nods. "yeah, i'm a demeter kid. my name's jack," he says, his lips curling into a smile. he gets up from his seat on the ground, putting his hand out to shake the guy's hand. he notices his obvious irish accent, and his smile widens a little at the thought of another irish kid at camp. cool, he thought. "which part of ireland are you from? i'm from waterford," his pale, green eyes dart up and down the guy, doing a quick once-over of him. he seems friendly enough.

he's taken a back, a bit, because he doesn't think a hot (yes, jack thinks the guy is hot as hell) guy like that would him 'fit'. he's never been called fit. his cheeks kind of flush a light shade of pink, but he shrugs it off. and then jack's lips curl into a slight frown. "well, crap," he mutters to himself, because he doesn't know anything about volley ball and he sure as hell doesn't know what position he wants to play. "uh, wait up!" he says, as he jogs towards the court. "i didn't catch your name. and uh.. i'm new to volley ball. i don't exactly know what position i should play."

jack nods, and is genuinely surprised by miles' friendliness. miles seems really confident, and jack is like, 'wow,' because even carter isn't this quirky. miles seems to be the [/i]good[/i] type of quirky, though. jack likes it. he shuffles his feet awkwardly, a little bit, once he's been persuaded onto the court by miles. it isn't that he isn't sporty or anything. jack likes sports. at least, he likes floorball and football (like, soccer, not american football). he's been the goal keeper a few times, so he thinks he should do fine. he nods when miles says that he's serving first. "after you," jack says, taking a step back.

jack sees the ball coming, and then his instincts kick in. suddenly he isn't playing volleyball, and he's an actual goal keeper at a football field. he dives to the right, just as the ball seems to be dangerously close to the ground, and catches it with his fingers spread across the surface of the ball. wow, he thinks to himself, i should play the goal keeper more at football games. he lands on the ground, ball in hand, and he looks at miles. oh, yeah. this is a volleyball game. he isn't actually playing football. he blinks a few times and, still on the ground, he throws the ball to miles, hoping that he actually is supposed to do that.