The Final Base

Headin' Home

The stadium was packed. The day was looking to be a hot one according to the forecast, though Brooklyn was cool as can be in the private box that had a fantastic view of the diamond. She could easily see the batter's mount from the window, though there were also several small screens around the room providing an extra close up. The bar was filled with food and drink, complementary of course. Ok maybe the word private was too good of a word, it wasn't reserved just for whoever Albert had invited, it was also filled with other family and friends of some of the other rookies and a few of those who've been doing this for a year or two. But the room consisted of mostly the newsies who were able to make it.

The New York Wolves had finally returned from their west coast adventure. The reunion with her boyfriend was short lived though. Just because he was home didn't mean there was going to be much of a break, but at least they could spend time together. Does it count if Albert is passed out on the couch before the movie even begins to roll the opening credits with a bowl of freshly popped popcorn in his lap? Yes, but also no. She was glad he was next to her and she felt bad for wishing he was actually awake. His body was all messed up from the time change on top of the intense training he has to do. So Brooklyn couldn't turn into the girlfriend who needs constant attention from her boyfriend. Not that she would, but still...the time he was awake was well cherished. Most of which was spent kissing..

"Is he nervous?" Feister asked as she settled into the plush seat beside Brooklyn with a small plate of food in tow. "First home game and all. I wouldn't be surprised if he's makin' star wars quotes to keep calm."

Brooklyn let out a light laugh. "It's hard to tell from his messages, they're all weird and cryptic."

"We'll see how much hair he has left on that pumpkin head of his," Race said, leaning forward in his seat. He was a row behind the girls, taking full advantage of the food.

In all honesty the group was probably getting some strange looks from the freshmen and sophomores. Most of the blame can go on Jojo who stole every bacon wrapped item. Finch and Sniper were in some weird competition with those tiny umbrellas for drinks. Romeo was taking selfies with anything that looked cool. That being said, her brother and Feister are the only other sane people. Jack was being an art critic. Though Brooklyn can't entirely blame him, the abstract piece on the wall was rather....unique. Race luckily hadn't done anything chaotic. If you count "my best bro was the first draft insert swear word here" calm then by all means he is for Racetrack Higgins standard.

"Hey Freckles!" Jojo said sliding up beside Race with a plate of, well, bacon everything. "You should bust out some of those cheerleader moves for good luck."

"I was on the dance team, not the cheer squad Jojo," Brooklyn sighed. "Do I look like I know how to do a fly flip, or whatever that move is called when a girl gets tossed fifty feet in the air and twirls?"

"No. But you can lift your leg pretty high," Jojo replied.

"Brooklyn's too nice to be one of those cheer blobs Jo," Feister added.

Back in high school it was actually an accident how she made the team. She uses that word loosely because it wasn't official and more like the outcasts who weren't deemed good enough so they made their own. Somehow she got pulled in and at first the school didn't take too kindly, mostly to her because she was deemed bad luck Brooklyn for dating Albert and apparently hyping up the crowd before the first pitch was also deemed bad luck. Things happened, there was a pep rally and long story short she won the random dance play and then the outcast team was considered good luck and was asked to perform before every. Single. Game. athletes and their weird superstitions.

"I stand by my point, Al could use the luck."

"He doesn't need any luck you lunatic," Race said as he slapped Jojo upside the head. "He was the first draft pick! Guy's got game. Now GO OUT THERE AND KICK SOME CHICAGO BULL BUTT!" Race yelled, earning several looks.