Well, here it is, my first attempt at a multi-chapter story! The schedule may be inconsistent, but it shall be completed...eventually...

Anyway, the modern day (aka 2031) is going forward in time, however, the flashbacks can jump around to anytime before that.

Now let's get on with the story


Lynn stirs in bed. Light is beginning to creep into her room, and she groans at the thought of having to get up; why couldn't the light shut up and let her sleep until her alarm wakes her up? All she wants to do is just sleep a little longer, but nature and her brain keep telling her to get out of bed.

She opens one eye and looks at her alarm clock, there's thirty more minutes until the alarm is due to snap her awake; she just wants to sleep a little longer, but the sunlight decides to wake her up early. Lynn groans again, figuring that there is no point in staying in bed, she stretches a little and gets the bottle of water next to her clock to chug it down, "No point staying in bed anymore."

She drags her feet through her apartment, and hears her cell phone buzzing. It's Lori.

"It's too early in the morning to go on a texting spree, Lori," she whines out loud.

Ever since Lisa decided to create her own cell phone service with unlimited everything and full bars no matter where you go, Lori has gone even crazier with the texting, videos, posts, and photos; Lynn understands why, the siblings are spread out much more and some are living in different states. While it is annoying, to have Lori's constant updates, and even some other sisters too, she will admit that she does enjoy the free phones, free service, and no bills. Thank you, Lisa.

Lynn ignores the phone, which is still buzzing, and opens the fridge to get some breakfast. "Let's see, let's see. Milk, eggs, butter, bread, old box of donuts, a slice of cake, cookies, and breakfast sprinkles. I guess it'll do," she says as she takes out the bread, milk, breakfast sprinkles, and a donut from the box.

The phone buzzes again.

She looks through the cupboards and finds it, "Yes! Strawberry milk powder and chocolate spread."

She pops the bread in the toaster, and bites down into the cold donut, as she makes herself a glass of strawberry milk.

The phone keeps buzzing. "Seriously? How can you guys have that much to say? We were just texting last night."

Lynn spread some chocolate spread on the toast and tops it with the sprinkles before she finally gives in and looks at her phone. She looks at the messages and sees what got everyone so excited – a photo of her and Bobby, both of their kids, and an announcement of another baby on the way painted on a canvas. Everyone texted their congratulations and a bunch of questions like when was she due and possible names and all the same questions they asked Luan when she was pregnant about two years ago.

She playfully shakes her head, and sends her older sister congratulations and goes back to breakfast, before she has to check on emails and get ready for work.

When it comes to work, Lynn isn't exactly over the moon thrilled about it, her ideal job was Olympian or professional athlete, but guess what? Life doesn't always work out that way. We don't all get to make our dreams come true. Sometimes you just got to take what you can get, and that just so happens to be a job as an assistant coach for a youth softball team.

Yup, Lynn Loud Jr. is an assistant coach on a kids' softball team; but it has its perks, like being outside, not having to wear office work attire, the smell of grass, the sound a bat makes when a ball is hit – it just feels right.

Of course, it can't all be good. Annoying parents, whiny kids, and league bosses who seriously need to learn how to relax; all of them are making her favorite childhood sport a bore. She sighs at the thought; sometimes she missed being a kid, living in that crazy house with all of her siblings, all the time in the world with her friends, 'Yup, being an adult is great…'

Lynn scrolls through her emails on her phone, she doesn't spot anything out of the ordinary, just the coach letting her know what they are doing for practice today, parents emailing their kid's schedules, because apparently kids are just so darn busy these days. She rolls her eyes, and keeps scrolling.

"Same. Same. Same. Hmm? I cannot pick up Elena week. Her father will pick her up, thank you," Lynn reads out loud. "Geez! Why send an email? Shouldn't her dad already be on the list of approved people to pick her up? Then again," she stops to think about the girl; Lynn doesn't know much about her, just that she's okay at softball and that her mom usually picks her up. "Hmm...when was the last time I saw her being picked up by her dad?" Lynn shrugs her shoulders and continues to eat her sugary excuse of a breakfast.


Twelve-year-old Lynn goes to the baseball field afterschool. The season is due to start in a couple of weeks, and she wants to get ready; not for the tryouts, she knows that she'll make the team; she wants to be ready to break her own records from last season. She takes a bucket of baseballs up to the mound, "The bottom of the ninth. Bases are loaded. Loud is on the mound. One more strikeout and the Squirrels win the championship."

Call her silly, but this is how she gets in the zone. Lynn does her good luck rituals, throws the ball, and she smiles at herself, "Strike one!"

She gets another ball, pretends to be the announcer, and throws, "Strike two!"

One more strike and she would win the championship. She throws the ball, and before she could declare the next strike, she hears someone say, "Ball!" Lynn looks in the direction of the voice; and see a Hispanic boy in blue walk onto the field.

"What!? That was totally a strike!"

"No it wasn't. It was too high," he says as he set down his duffel bag.

Lynn looks at the boy with a small scowl on her face, "Like you could do better?"

With a mitt in hand, he walks up to the mound, "Go to the plate, and I'll show you how to throw a strike."

Lynn gets her bat and walks to the plate. She readies herself by performing her various good luck rituals – jumping on the plate twice, spitting on her bat three times, and tapping her knees two times against each other.

"What are you doing?"

"My good luck rituals, duh. How else am I going to prove that you can't throw better than me?" she says with a cocky tone.

"Practice? Skill? Definitely not some silly ritual…" he whispers the last part to himself.

Lynn rolls her eyes, "Whenever you're ready!"

He takes in a deep breath, and throws the ball.


"Is your dad coming?" Lynn asks the girl.

Practice was over for the day, and Lynn volunteered to stay behind with Elena, however, had she known that she would still be waiting around for nearly an hour, she probably wouldn't have volunteered to do so.

"Yeah, he'll be here in a bit. He sometimes works late, and loses track of time, but he won't forget to pick me up," she says as she tries to convince Lynn of her confidence.

Lynn sits down next to the girl, who was swinging her legs while looking at the vehicles that would pass by. She couldn't tell if Elena meant what she said, or if she was just trying to convince herself that work was the reason he was late; Lynn couldn't tell.

Lynn shakes her head. She doesn't even know the man, how can she judge someone like that, besides this is going to be the first time that she is ever going to see her unknown father; a man whom the girl described as a really hard worker that she only got to see on weekends.

The two wait in silence before Lynn finally says, "So…" she couldn't think of much. Sure, she likes the kids, but most of the time they just played and went home, very few stick around to talk, especially as late as the girl next to her did.

While Lynn is lost in her thoughts, she hears the girl ask, "So, how long have you been playing baseball?"

Lynn looks down at the girl, "Umm… for a long time… since I was like 4, maybe 5. I don't really remember" She couldn't figure out why she suddenly felt shy about admitting that fact.

"My dad played a long time too. He would tell me when we would practice how he would collect baseball cards, spend hours practicing with his friend, and how he was convinced to try–" she cuts herself off; realizing that she was probably saying too much.

"Did something happen?"

The girl shakes her head; refusing to speak.

The two sit quietly, but Lynn's patience was wearing thin, 'Where the hell is this guy? Did you forget your own kid? Is work that much more important? You know, there's this new thing called a cell phone – use it!'

Before she could ask 'him' another question, both notice a truck pull into the parking lot.

"He's here!" Elena says in relief as she runs towards the truck.

"About damn time…" Lynn says to herself. She looks over at the man who still in the vehicle, "He could at least get out of the damn truck and apologize for keeping us waiting," she mutters to herself; she is relieved that she can go home now, even though she wants to give the bastard a piece of her mind for taking as long as he did.

Lynn looks at the girl, who is listening to her father probably explain why he was took so long. The man steps out of the truck and stiffly walked towards Lynn, "Sorry to have kept you waiting."


Lynn laughs after she manages to hit a home run against him, "Some strike. If all my opponents struck me out like you did, I'd get the league's home run record in a heartbeat."

The boy glares at her, "You just got lucky."

"Yeah, lucky that you threw me an easy home run," she teases.

He rolls his eyes, and walks towards his duffel bag. He quietly put his gear away and mutters something under his breath that Lynn couldn't hear. She knows that some people are sore losers, but he could at least be a little more graceful about it.

"C'mon, don't be that way. It takes a lot of skill to strike me out," she tries to apologize, but misses the mark.

"It's fine. I'll leave you alone, and go practice somewhere else," he says as he walks away from her.

"Wait up! I'll give you another chance to 'properly' strike me out."

"Yeah, right," he continues to walk away.

"I mean it! Unless you don't think you can," she says with a smug smile.

"Fine, but you better not take a dive," he sets his bag down and goes back to the mound, as she goes back to the plate. He takes a deep breath and looks at her with determination in his eyes. "I'm gonna wipe that smug smile off of your face," he says to himself.

Strike one.

"Lucky throw," she mutters as she tried to regain herself.

Strike two.

"One more, and you're out, ponytail."

He throws the ball again, and she swings.

With a look of amazement in both of their eyes, neither one believing what just happened. "Strike three. You're out," he says with a smile.

Lynn closes her mouth; surprised that he was actually able to strike her out. All she could do was think that this random boy got lucky and did what many kids in the league dreamed of doing; strike her out. Okay, yes, she is full of herself just now, and she has been struck out before, but she was really trying after the first strike, and he succeeded in striking her out.

She walks over to him, "Feel better now, Mr. I'm-gonna-leave-because-I-couldn't-strike-out-a-girl?"

"Better. Especially after striking out little Ms. I'm-so-full-of-myself-for-getting-lucky," he says with a playful smirk.

Lynn scowls, "It's easy to get a hit when going up against Mr. Can-barely-pitch-to-the-plate-from-the-mound."

The boy snickers, and Lynn relaxes, joining in as well.

"So, what's your name anyway?" Lynn asks after giving a soft punch to the arm.


The man extends his hand out to her and introduces himself, "My name's Francisco. It's nice to meet you."

Lynn just stands there frozen; she took a deep breath and can confirm that the man in front of her is who she thinks he is. 'Seriously? I know you. How do you not remember me? We played baseball after school. We hung out for years. We–'

He interrupts her thoughts, "I should get going. Her mom's probably wondering what's taking so long. It was nice to meet you."

"Yeah, it was nice to meet you too…"

Lynn sees him return to the truck. She is about to go, before he comes back with a piece of paper, "I forgot to get your number from her mother, do you mind if I get it, in case this happens again?"

"Umm sure," Lynn says without a second thought.

She hands him back the piece of paper, "Thanks, again sorry making you wait so long."

"Pfft, it's no big deal," she says pretending to not have thought the rude things she was thinking earlier.

Lynn watches him slowly make his way to the truck, where he stops to grab what she assumed was a pain pill, "Guess he's still hurt."

She stares at the truck as it leaves the parking lot. That is definitely the Francisco she knew growing up, granted he grew a beard and was a little bigger than she remembered, but she can tell that he is definitely the same guy; she always could tell.

"Huh… so that's what happened to him." She couldn't remember the last time she thought about him; after high school it was bound to happen, especially when neither one really tries to keep in contact with the other, but it was hard between studying, practice, and both of them being in two different states.

She puts her gear in the trunk and gets into her car, "Wow, a kid. And here I thought that he was out there being Mr. Responsible, waiting before he would settle down. You think you know a guy."


After school, Lynn notices her new friend carrying his gear towards the baseball field, "Hey Francisco!" she calls out to him, "Off to practice again? Geez, do you ever just relax like a normal kid?"

He laughs, "This coming from the girl who's on, like, seven different sports teams? Yeah, I'm the one with the problem," he joked back.

"Don't be jealous just 'cause so many teams want me to play for them," she continues to play along, as she walks alongside him.

He notices her following him, "So do you want to join me or is the Great Lynnsanity off to save the dying tennis team?"

Lynn looks through her imaginary schedule, "Hmm…I guess I can make time for you in my schedule, why not?"

Francisco playfully rolls his eyes and they walked towards the baseball field. When they arrive, Francisco gets out a baseball, his mitt, and a pack of gum. He pops in a stick of gum before turning to her, "Want one?"


Lynn offers the man a stick of gum, "Want one?"

"Excuse me?" he asks her.

"You're the only one who seems to be interested in watching the kids practice. I thought that I'd reward you."

"Sure," he says as he takes the stick of gum from the assistant coach.

This is the first time that she's seen him since they met a few days ago, and honestly she was surprised that he showed up to practice; Elena too, from what Lynn could tell. When she got home that night, she was so tempted to call and remind him of his supposed childhood best friend, but there's no way that Lynn Loud Jr. was going to come off as desperate. Nope. She was going to get him to reveal himself to her, besides that's what he gets anyway.

"So… how are you doing?"

Francisco gives her a confused look before focusing on Elena again, "Elena, bend your knees a little more to get a better stance!"

"You sure know a lot about baseball." It isn't much, but something to get the conversation started, right?

He continues to stare at the field, "Knowing proper stance isn't exactly 'knowing a lot', besides I used to play when I was younger."

"So, you know your stuff, huh? I'm guessing the injury stopped you?" she knows that he continued to play after his back injury, but she didn't know if it got worse and forced him to stop once he got to college.

Francisco stays quiet and just focuses on the field, "Don't think that I'm one of those dads that tries to live out his dreams through his kids," he says, not even looking at her.

Lynn knows the type of parents that he's referring to, but she goes along with his idea, "I don't. But if you used to play, then I'm sure you wouldn't mind stepping onto the field and showing these kids something, right?"

"I'm fine here in the stands. Besides shouldn't you be helping the kids right now?"

"Fine," Lynn groans as she goes back onto the field. She blows on her whistle to gather the kids, "Alright, who wants to see if they can hit a Full-Force ball from Coach Lynn?"

The kids begin to mutter no's or reasons why they couldn't. They knows that when she mentioned Full-Force that it just means trouble; no easy pitches from the pitching machine or from each other, but balls traveling nearly 90 miles per hour at them, and that isn't exactly something that a bunch of kids seemed amped up to try.

Lynn looks over at Francisco's daughter, "What do you say, Elena?"

The girl is shocked at being called out to try, "Umm… I'm not so sure."

"Don't you want to make your old man in the stands proud?" she asks in hopes of getting her to try.

"I think I'd be more embarrassed to mess up in front of him," Elena admits.

"Oh c'mon, it's not so bad. Anyone? Anyone?" The kids shyly stare at the ground or look away from her, "Oh, fine. I guess, I'll just let you guys continue practice with the pitching machine."

The kids sigh in relief and go back to practice.

If you asked her, these kids were too afraid to try anything new or hard. Sure, her fastballs are the stuff of legends in Royal Woods, but that doesn't mean you run from the challenge.

The kids lined up and got ready to bat.


"A what pitch?" Francisco asks her, as he set down his gear.

"Full-Force! It'll be the fastest ball you've ever seen!" she brags.

"So, 106 miles per hour?"

"I meant for someone not in the Majors!"

"So, 106 miles per hour?"

"For someone my age!"

"Again, 106 miles per hour?" Francisco asks, as he holds back a laugh against the girl.

"Would you stop saying that!?" she snaps, "Just stop laughing and get ready to strike out, Reyes!"

"Not my full last name," he casually chimes as he walks over to the plate.

Francisco focuses his eyes towards Lynn; he clenches his bat, ready to see what her so-called Full-Force pitch is all about.

Ever since their first encounter, it seems as though Lynn has made it her mission to strike him out. Multiple times, she would challenge him to hit some new pitch, which was really just Lynn throwing faster than normal, but nonetheless she was determined to strike him out the way he struck her out a few weeks ago.

"Don't hurt yourself, Loud," he whispers to her.


Practice was over and the kids were grabbing their gear, so they could clear out. Overall, nothing noteworthy had taken place if you asked anyone; hitting, running, and snacks, see, boring.

"So what did the coach want?" Francisco asked Elena from the fence.

"She wanted to see if any of us wanted to try to bat against one of her Full-Force pitches."

"Full-Force pitch?" he asked, turning his attention to Lynn, who was staring at him from the mound.

Elena nodded, "Yeah, it's when she throws the ball– Dad! Where are you going?"

Francisco grabbed Elena's bat and made his way onto the field, "You really don't give up, huh?"

She looked over at the man, "Nope! But it is nice to see someone who's not afraid of my Full-Force pitches."

The kids looked onto the field as Coach Lynn suddenly had a challenger. They gathered around, and saw the look on Lynn's face, they knew what she was planning – her famous Full-Force pitch. Francisco clenched the bat as tightly as he could. It's been so long since he's gone up against her, even someone like her, and he wasn't going to let this opportunity slip past him.

Lynn mouthed off 'You're going down', and Francisco shook his head, "We'll see about that."

She looked at him, waiting for his usual whisper, before she threw the ball.

"Don't hold back."

"I won't," she mouthed in response.

She got ready and threw.

"Strike one. Don't tell me that you've gotten rusty?" she playfully asked.

Francisco regained himself, "Quit talking and just throw the ball."

Strike two.

"One more chance. Are you really gonna let this be the first time?"

She threw the ball one last time, and the crack of the bat hitting against the ball was all anyone could hear as the ball flew over the fence. The kids awed, impressed to see someone face their coach head on, while armed with her Full-Force pitch, but also to see the home run.


"You just got lucky," Lynn playfully complains, after he managed to hit Full-Force pitch.

He laughs, "Luck? I don't call that luck. I call that skill. Would you like me to give you his number?"

Lynn sticks her tongue out at him, "I'll get you next time. Maybe then you'll come up with a better comeback."

"Ha ha," he says sarcastically, "That's what you said last time, Lynn, and I still managed to hit your so-called 'Best Pitch Ever!', remember?"

"Fine, one of these days, then! I'll strike you out!"

"I'll hold you to it."


The kids gather around Francisco, they are all going on about how cool that hit was and how brave he was for going up against Coach Lynn, but all he notices is the woman on the mound who is staring right at him. He knew who she was the last time they met, but kept quiet; not because he was nervous or anything, nope, he was perfectly fine seeing the girl that he knew since they were kids coaching his daughter. Granted, he was a little embarrassed to see her, since they haven't spoken in years, that and he always pictured that she would have gone on to be some professional athlete or something, so seeing her in the parking lot just a few days ago took him by surprise.

"Wow dad! That was amazing!" Elena says as she runs up to Francisco.

"It was no big deal," he tries to brush it off, but the constant attention from the kids was making it difficult.

The kids congratulate him one last time, before they begin head towards their families to go home, however Francisco and Elena stick around at the bleachers, "Dad, why are we still waiting around?"

"I wanted to talk to Coach Lynn about something. Do me a favor and wait here."

She nods in agreement. He walks over to Lynn, "So Lynnsanity's Full-Force pitch still can't strike me out, huh?"

"Oh, you finally remembered me; took you long enough," she says smugly.

"Maybe I just wanted to see how long it would take until you cracked and tried to smoke me out," he says with a playful smile.

"Bull!" Lynn snickers, before she responds to his earlier question, "So my Full-Force pitch still can't strike you out today, but that still isn't gonna stop me."

Francisco smiles, and shakes his head, "I see you're still as stubborn as usual."

"I'm not stubborn! I'm adamant," she says with pride in her voice.

Francisco nods, "Sure you are." His watch's alarm sounded off, "Well, I should get going… it was nice seeing you again."

"Yeah…guess I'll see you next practice?" she asks hopefully.

"Maybe," he says as he begin to walk back to Elena.

"I'll hold you to it."