Strike One.

The News

Hamilton sat at the table, reading the paper as he sipped on some hot coffee his adoptive mother, Martha, had prepared when he got up, flipping through each page. 

"Ever notice how some of this junk is trash?" The boy mumbled, looking up at the woman across the table, who was reading a book.

"Isn't junk and trash all the same? Honestly, how can you and George stand to read that garbage? Only reliable section is occasionally the sports section, checked that yet?" The lady glanced back over at the other, him sighing as he flipped over a few pages, noticing the lady was staring.

"Something else?" He clearly was sleep deprived, and of course, he was a typical teenager, so he had a sort of, sass, you could say, to his tone.

"Could you possibly read it? I heard your school had a game last night, I would like to hear how that one Jefferson boy did." She replied, equaling his sass, as she gently placed a bookmark at the page that her book stood open at, before closing it softly and giving her full attention to the other, the boy letting out a long, exaggerated groan, before clearing his throat and beginning to read the article word by word.

"New Liberty Public school finally lost their winning streak last night, loosing to the baseball boys over at Saint Laven's Public school, the score rounding out to a final of 12 to 8."

Alexander paused, looking to see if the other still cared, her raising a brow. "Continue."

He sighed. "Many fans of NL's loss blame the freshman player, Thomas Jefferson, number 03, not being used. Of course, this is not at all the coaches fault, it is completely on Mr. Jefferson for loosing his privilege to play. 

Lately, Jefferson has been finding himself in a bit of trouble, along with his grades slipping, which, so far, no one knows why this is happening.

The player who traded out for Jefferson's typical posts is a Junior by the name of-"

Alexanders sentence was cut off by a soft curse from his adoptive mother, him glancing over once more. "Something bothering you?"

"Yea, something is bothering me! You'd think, by how good this kid is at Baseball, that maybe he'd think about keeping his grades up and being a good kid!" She hissed, Alexander taking his final sip of coffee, before setting the paper down and standing, "serves the kid right, he was born with a golden spoon in his mouth." Alexanders face curled as he pushed his chair in. "Anyways, I should start walking soon. You know how dad gets when I'm even a second late to his class." Alexander kissed the woman on the cheek kindly, before grabbing a hefty bag off the floor, and stepping outside, making his way to school after shutting his front door.