The Year Three section of the courtyard was louder than it had been ten minutes ago.
Not chaotically loud. The kind of loud that came from students who had been holding themselves quiet during the formal parts of the assembly and had now reached the point where the waiting was doing more damage to their nerves than the talking.
They were holding small conversations.
Equipment checks were performed twice, then a third time. The particular sound of young people managing anticipation filled the area.
Damon Terrace stood with his group at the left edge of the Year Three formation and did not appear to be managing anything.
