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.

"Race, that's a basketball team," Mush corrected with a heavy sigh as he took his own seat beside his wife. "We're playin' Canada, idiot."

"GO HOME YOU MAPLE LEAFS!"

"That's hockey!"

"I know. But Canada is known for their maple syrup, and this little firecracker-" Race rubbed Feister's head. She of course swatted his hand away. "Called Al, Maple Leaf once and-"

"I was like six," Feister cut off.

"And truly, the most unhinged you've ever been. Seriously, Feisty, you said some pretty weird stuff before you reached ten."

"I will throw you out that window Higgins."

"Guys, stop, you're startin' to scare the normal people in this room," Brooklyn said. It was with those words the Manhattan accent faded and made way for her Brooklyn one. That always happened when she was either tired, embarrassed, done, and in a rare case, angry. With her brother that wasn't the case, he was all Manhattan having lived in the city for all but seven years of his life. So it wasn't a surprise he lost his roots compared to her.

Of course, her words were left ignored and the small group of newsies started to get into some sort of debate that went way off from what they originally were talking about. At that very moment, her phone chimed. Taking a look there was a message that read, "first home run I score is for you gorgeous" complete with a winky face and baseball. She responded with "I'll be cheering so loud you'll be able to hear me from up here" with a kiss face emoji and red heart. He proceeded to ask if she still thinks hockey is the superior sport, to which she said there's a difference between real and fictional, to which she prefers the fictional kind since fictional baseball sucks. She's read a few romances but couldn't get into it. Then she got sad because the covers were cute. Then she thought maybe the reason she's not into that aspect of the romance world is due to the fact she's in a baseball relationship and all. So why read about it when she's living it.

They texted for the next few minutes before Albert had to go. She wished him luck and got comfy in her seat, eagerly waiting for the game to begin. She was never big on sports, unless you count her impressive collection of books, but Brooklyn loves him, and this is something he's always wanted. If she was able, she went to every college game she possibly could, back in high school she was dragged against her will at first, then she liked going because there's the weird attractiveness factor that comes into play. As in her goofy yet chaotic boyfriend turns all serious. The uniform, despite looking like toothpaste pajamas, was a plus as well.

Despite attending games of the past few years in her life Brooklyn still found it hard to pay attention to. She has a more basic understanding than before but when it comes to technical talk she's the last person to know what's what and so on. Secretly, she only pays attention to what Albert is doing. A few times the camera panned to the dugout where he sat, chewing gum if she had to guess. Like always his cap sat backwards. Eyes trained on the field or taking part in whatever conversation was happening beside him.

America's pastime. Yeah right. It's the slowest sport among the big four. Well, at least it was in the summer and not in the middle of winter like football. Honestly those fans are some of the craziest people she's ever met. Out here on the east coast who wants to sit outside freezing on the bleachers. At least down south and out west it's warm. Or well, cold to the locals, but for someone who lives in New York, it's warm weather all year round.

"RUN IT HOME!" Race yelled.

"It's the other team Race," Feister said, her tone as plain and flat as can be. She was also wondering why she was associating herself with these whackos.

"Yeah, I know. I'm tellin' 'em to run all the way back to where they came from."

Feister just sighed and slumped back into her seat.

After a long game, and playing during the last few innings, Albert can say with full confidence the rush of adrenaline he had gotten was unlike any other. Many say this sport is slow, and yeah, he can understand why some may think that, but watching and playing are two different things. The interviews went by in a flash, he forgot what he said exactly due to the excitement still running through his veins. So how did he find himself at a downtown bar with some of his teammates and his girl at his side. Oh yeah, a small celebration for the rookie group for making it out alive. Just a small one. Nothing too crazy to get them in trouble with the league.

The boys and Feister were there as well of course. For what it's worth, if it weren't for them supporting him for all these years he didn't think he'd be here right now. Though it felt odd without Kloppman. He retired around the same time Romeo got accepted into college and left the Big Apple to live with his daughter and her family down in Florida. He did get a good luck, I'm proud of you, text. It was comforting enough to know Klopp had been watching, probably sipping on some fruity sparkling water. It was unspoken how much they all missed the only father figure in their life. So they had sent him off with a surprise farewell party, a homemade video of them throughout the years, and a handwritten book of memories and how grateful they all are.

"So, how did it feel playin' with the big boys," Brooklyn asked. She had her arms wrapped around him as if they were in the middle of an ocean and he was her life preserve. It was cute. She smelt like fall vanilla and cinnamon mixed with something else that reminds him of a bakery in October. She had to speak a little louder to be heard over the music, thus standing on her toes. "Everything you ever wanted?"

"And more," Albert replied. He had leaned down so his lips were just inches away from her ear. He felt her body shiver and he couldn't help but smirk. "See that run home I made? All for you." he tickled her side, causing that giggle he loves so much. He didn't mind the sound being drowned out by the deafening music, it was the smile. The one that brightens her whole face and makes her eyes shine like the moon in the night sky. He brushed a lock of hair back, letting his fingertips softly glide over her skin. He loved the way it felt against his calluses.

"Rookie of the year award, here you come!"

"Hey now, don't go and jinx it." he's glad Brooklyn tunes out any and all sports news because then she'd find out that the rat of a human she used to date had a pretty good chance at said award. It was a prediction at best, and as much as he hates Colton Walters, there's no denying he's a good player. Both on and off the field. Their high school rivalry had been dug up and well, was that a juicy story, and something Brooklyn did not need to know about. They've always been honest with each other, but there's some things she's off not knowing. If he did bring it up, the bad memories would come flooding back.

She just smiled brighter and leaned her head against the nook of his arm. One hand started to play with the hair by his neck. So this is what it felt like. Being in love, his focus on her and nothing else in the room. He thought he heard Jay say something about shots. Maybe Race was teasing him. But none of it matters. Brooklyn was the only person that mattered. Training camp just proved that he needs to savor every free second with her. But it was never enough. Believe it or not, she keeps him grounded. This beautiful, book-crazed girl is the highlight of his day.

"Even if you don't win, you're still the best to me." she closed her eyes when he leaned down to kiss her forehead. She savored the warmth of his lips, the tingle on her skin and the butterflies swirling around her stomach. Though she'd rather be home instead of some downtown bar with loud music and drunk patrons and girls in scraps of clothes making eyes at her boyfriend, it wasn't bad when she remembered he was looking at her and only her. She felt bad for his teammates who had tried to get him to do a round of shots. Though Race's catcalls were something she was glad Albert didn't hear. Oh those two have a friendship for the ages and an eye for chaos. "Even if you didn't make it to the big league, you'd always be the best to me."

"You're too sweet for someone like me."

"And that's why you love me. The sugar to your spice."

Yeah, Albert's the luckiest guy alright.

Author's note

This chapter was brought to you by a girl who's been to one MLB game, one minor(?) league, and my little cousin's game a few years back where I had spent ten plus hours in a car before I found myself sitting on the bleachers Summer road trip to see family. So I was pretty out of it. That's about it so yay for a little Newsies chaos. This was such a fun chapter to write, I love throwing these boys into a new environment together while Feister is debating if she's done or wants to act like she's never met these lunatics. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time.