baseball · street gang · brotherhood · loyal · scrappy · urban setting · sports · ensemble cast · youthful · gritty
The engine's growl was the only sound for a second before the bat connected, a sharp crack followed by a shower of splintered wood. Dust and debris swirled inside the moving car. "Shit," I muttered, glaring at the wreckage of the mailbox. "I'm out." Eyeball barked a laugh from the passenger seat, lifting his beer. "Wood never stood a chance." I shot him a look that could curdle milk. "Thanks for the insight. Billy, you're on." Billy sat stiffly beside Charlie, his face drawn. He shook his head, his voice thin. "I'm done. I don't wanna play." Eyeball frowned, turning in his seat. "The hell you are. Three innings. You know the rules." Charlie opened his mouth, but Billy's elbow dug into his ribs, shutting him up. My eyes narrowed, scanning their nervous faces. "What is with you two? You've…