It was only when she had turned to face him that Anton realized the girl wasn't a girl at all but a woman and a very attractive one at that. The observation registered in some distant part of his brain, tucked away to be examined later, when he was alone. Right now the hurt of his broken engagement was far too fresh to even think of other women in such a way. He might have immediately turned and walked off had he known the connection between the girl formerly known as his fiancee and this stranger. She seemed nice enough. Talkative, but nice. And honestly, he had no idea what she was saying at all. He understood the idea of setting up poles and stringing the net between them - they'd had games using a similar setup in his day - but after that, everything was gibberish.
Her smile made up for the lack of clear communication, however. It was warm and unafraid and spoke of a hope that he dared not voice. She wasn't afraid of him. Didn't know what his future held. At least for the moment, and that was good enough for Anton.
"I'm sorry, I haven't the smallest notion of what water polo is," he apologized, the hint of a bemused expression softening his angled features. "Perhaps if you explained it to me, we could come up with a solution to your problem?"