Thursday night practice...

Coach Rowley was tough. He had the baseball team start practice way before Spring in an effort to cut early weaklings from the group, and every year he succeeded. But he knew that every time he made them run drills in winter, out at one of the Lincoln Park baseball fields, he would end up with a winning team all season.

Peter stood out by the field, puffer coat on and phone in hand, pretending to ignore Hanlan and Bradley horsing around out on the field.

Peter: practice is almost done if you want to pull the car around

Connor reacts "thumbs up" to Peters text

Hanlan was the long-time star pitcher, who coach now had training new team members in the hope of finding a suitable replacement once he graduated. And Bradley was the outfielder with the speed and stamina to keep up with any ball hit his way. Peter admired the way Hanlan threw the ball, his pointed form when the ball finally left the tip of his fingers and directly toward the catchers mitt. He was ballerina-like in his finesse that was only soiled by Bradley's irreverent chide he would throw at Hanlan when the batter got a hit.

Why did everyone think Bradley was so funny?

The heat of his own annoyance helped warm Peter from the cold lakefront wind. He watched Bradley like a hawk as he thought to himself.

I mean, I guess he's pretty funny, and the guy has so much energy. Ever since Kate spread his dick pic around the cheer team in 10th grade he's become this unintentional icon of male bravado. Like, fuck off.

Peter looks back down at his phone.

The picture wasn't even that nice.

Rowley called all of the guys into a huddle and Peter started walking to the parking lot, where Connor was already parked, sunglasses on and flipping Peter the bird. Knowing Brody always got shotgun when Connor drove, he preemptively got in the back seat.

"Hey Petey, would you check the back row for me?" Connor shot an eye over at Brody, who grinned wide back at him.

Peter hopped into a window seat in the back row where he saw stacks of beer cases and full liquor bottles.

"Dude, its a thursday." Peter mumbled.

"Petey," Connor's droll tone dripped with snark, "Thursday is the new Friday. Besides, tonight is the night we get Damien drunk."