Champagne & Baseball

Kids & the Kindred

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

He shrugged, slipping some cash into his pocket. "It's our last night of freedom." His lips tugged up into a smile.

"Alright." I conceded. "You wanna call for the taxi or should I?"

"Already took care of it. I'm going to change quick, it'll be here soon."

I went back to the mirror, checking myself over again. Should I change too? Yes. I moved to start down the hall, but Brady had already emerged from his room, changed and ready to go. Worn out blue jeans hung from his hips, and a loose white tee draped off his shoulders. I couldn't help my smile. He looked so simple, so plain but man did he make it work. That was something I did not miss about New York, the men almost always outdressing me. I didn't have to worry about that here. The nicest part of his attire were the old Nikes that wore a bleach spot proudly.

I reminded myself to go easy on him. He was just a kid.

We spent the taxi ride in silence. I took in the sights and sounds of downtown. For Springfield it was bustling, a row of bars lined each side of the street. Brady leaned forward, to our driver's ear.

"This is good." He said. Then he realized that I was with him and he looked back at me, "Unless you want - "

"This is good." I echoed him, smiling when he visibly relaxed. He slid out and offered me his hand, I took it and he pulled me out after him. I started walking towards my old hang out, Sick and Tired.

It was a good bar with good music, cheap drinks and if I remembered correctly a huge dance floor. Exactly what I needed tonight. Brady tossed our driver some cash before joining me on my walk. I went to move to the back of the waiting line when he put his hand on the small of my back.

"The boys have a spot farther up." He guided me up the line and I gawked.

"When did this place get so popular?" Back in high school, they were lucky to have tables full, much less reach capacity.

Brady just smiled and raised his shoulders. A man of few words it seemed. The boys were hard to miss, they had all changed into simple well-fitting clothes. Half of them sported hats, all of them sported hungry eyes, scanning every passing woman.

Despite the predatory looks, they were an attractive group. They hung together like a pack, shoulder to shoulder, not an outsider to be seen.

When we got close, Brady slapped hands with the nearest ones before moving me in front of him, placing me in the center. I smiled sheepishly, and they returned it. I began to rethink my plans for the night, it didn't look good for me to be hanging out with a group of kids.

I looked around the group, trying to match names with faces when I spotted Garrett.

"Tell me you're 21." I said, not wanting to be in this position.

"I have an I.D." He told me as if that was close enough. I gave him a glare.

"I didn't hear that." I deadpanned. What was he thinking?

A few chuckles escaped throats and before I knew it, we were at the doors showing IDs. Somehow even Garrett managed to get through.

It was just like I remembered it; dirty, dark and full of life.

I figured now was the time to separate myself. Leaving them to take charge of their own actions, I took a step out from them when I saw a familiar face.

"Wyatt," I shouted, not believing my eyes.

He turned to look at me. Sure enough, it was him. God, he looked good, dressed in a black suit, no tie. His dark hair was trimmed short and his brown eyes flickered with recognition.

"Danny?" He asked, not believing it was really me. I took a step towards him.

"Four years together in New York and we never see each other. One night in Springfield and here we are." I laughed at the absurdity of it as he pulled me in for a friendly hug.

"That's New York for you." He gave me a squeeze before letting me go.

Wyatt and I had gone to high school together and while we weren't close for most of it, our senior year we both accepted offers from universities in the city. We had bonded over excitement and college planning but once we set off, we never saw each other. He had attended Colombia while I was at NYU.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, not many people came back to Springfield once they got out.

He put his palms up, "Just graduated, spending the summer in town before school in the fall."

"More school?"

He put a big grin on his face, "Harvard law." He said. I punched him in the arm, astounded.

"That's incredible! Congratulations! Let me buy you a drink." I put my hand on his forearm and stepped to him when I felt the eyes on us. Six pairs silent and watching.

"I'm being so rude - " I turned to the group, "Wyatt meet - the Falcons. I manage their team."

"Looks like I should buy you a drink." He said, ignoring the introduction.

"I'll see you at home." I told Brady, hoping he would take the hint to not wait up for me. Wyatt led me to the bar, mouth spilling with questions for me.

"So, what are you, their pimp?" He laughed, leaning against the long granite bar top, eyeing up the boys I'd come with.

"If I was, I'd be doing a terrible job." I laughed. The boys looked out of place and uncomfortable. Huddled together at a table, talking to themselves while eyeing up anything in a skirt. They were completely unapproachable, and they had no idea.

"So, you're back?" He changed the subject, shooting the boys one last curious look.

"For the season at least."

"Look at us Danny, did you ever think we would be here?"

I shook my head. I honestly didn't. "Come on." I downed my margarita and took his hand. "I came here to dance"

He pulled back from me, "I'm not a dancer."

"You are tonight!" I said confidently as we moved onto the floor. He had been right, he wasn't a dancer. Offbeat, off pace, stepping on any toe near him, he was fun to watch. His face was twisted up in concentration as he tried to move his body.

He took my hand in his and playfully spun me around on the dance floor, finally getting into the music.

I heard a shout and another and then a crash. Our hands fell apart, I turned around to see where the noises were coming from. A table had fallen on its side, blocking off a section of onlookers. It was them, all of them. They were shouting while Brady and Brandon fought. Brady had his left arm around Brandon's neck while his right continued to punch him in the stomach. Garrett made a move to step in but was easily shook off by the fighters. I stormed over to them and grabbed the front of their shirts.

"Outside." I said through gritted teeth, just loud enough for them to hear. I didn't want to draw attention to these animals.

"Everybody" I forced out turning to their teammates. I barely recognized my voice, throaty and biting. They hung their heads like little kids in trouble. Damn right.

Hand still wrapped up in their shirts, I pulled them towards the door with me. I glanced back at Wyatt and mouthed 'Call me'.

I was boiling with anger, they had embarrassed me in front of my high school crush. I pulled on them harder, the others trailing behind me like baby ducks after their mama. They had embarrassed me and they were going to pay.

I released Brady and Brandon, pushing them into an orderly line on the sidewalk. The others followed suit.

"What were you thinking?" I said trying to keep my voice even and conversational, trying to squelch the anger. "There is no fighting on this team with each other or with anyone else. You're a pitcher Brady, you need your hands and Brandon needs ribs to breathe. Garrett - " I let out a long breath, "I commend you for trying to stop it, but you shouldn't have been here in the first place. A mistake I will not make again. You all need to get in line. Do you want me calling Coach Matthew and telling him that his players need to sit out tomorrow, and they can't make the game this weekend?"

Their eyes were still on their feet. Brady shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Answer me." I snapped. They all grumbled various 'no's'. "Apologize to each other" I pointed between Brady and Brandon. They both squeaked out an 'I'm sorry' and then looked back at their feet.

"If you continue to act like children then I'm going to treat you like children. There will be no drinking, an early curfew, no free time at all. This is your one pass. Next time you've lost all privileges not just you lot - the entire team. Go home, sleep it off. If any of you are late tomorrow I'll let Coach Matthew know why."

They scattered immediately pulling out their phones to call rides, a couple that lived close by started the walk home.

Brady turned and took a step away from me.

"Where do you think you're going?" I said my voice still harsh. I took a deep breath, I can't be mad at him anymore. I had punished him enough already.

He lazily kicked his foot into the concrete sidewalk and kept his eyes pinned on the ground.

"Let's just go home." He muttered, his accent strong from the beers.

If the taxi downtown had been quiet, the ride we took home was dead silent. He didn't even bother with his phone, just sat, hands in his lap looking out the window. I opened my mouth, wanting to ease the tension between us, change the subject but I didn't know how to without feeling like an i***t.

I looked him over, the blood on his lip was dry now. The bruise on his cheek still developing.

"Who started it?" I asked him quietly.

"I did." He admitted. At least he was honest I'd give them that. "He was talking all this trash about- " he stopped himself and quieted. "Just some girl" he finished.

"I see." He sat in silence the rest of the way.

When we got to the apartment, I peeled off my heels and collapsed on the couch.

He hung his keys from the wall hook and tapped his hand on his leg, a nervous tick. He crossed the room for his bedroom but before he went through the door I said.

"Brady. House rule number one is no fighting."

"That's fair," he told me, biting his bottom lip. He disappeared into his room.

I let out a big sigh and eyed the clock. It was just midnight, we had barely been there for an hour.

This was going to be harder than I thought.