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Laura was running late, sprinting from the parking lot to the stadium, decked out from head to toe in blue and orange. Tacky, if you asked her, but it’s not every day her little brother is the starting pitcher for the New York Mets.
She makes it to her seat in time for the National Anthem. She’s sitting on the first baseline, right above the dugout, with the perfect view to see Derek pitch.
The early evening heat isn’t unbearable, the crowd is abuzz with excitement for the Subway series, the rivalry and camaraderie are palpable. She flags down a vendor for an ice-cold beer and another for a bag of peanuts.
The man to her left lifts his beer in salute. “Cheers,” he says, “May the best team win!”
She finally notices his t-shirt proudly displays the Yankees logo. She flashes a cocky grin. “Oh, we will.”
“So, you come here often?” He asks casually.
If Derek weren’t about to throw his first pitch, she might have commented on his cheesy pick-up line, but instead, she’s on her feet cheering as Derek throws a strike.
“THAT’S IT BABY BRO, SHOW ‘EM HOW IT'S DONE!” She hollers. As she sits back down, she turns to the man again, who has an impressed look on his face. “Yeah, I’ve been here a few times.”
“So, Derek Hale. Your brother?”
“The one and only.”
“Damn. I’m really regretting losing this bet.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Laura turns fully towards him. Derek has already struck out the first batter and he’s 1-2 on the second.
The man pulls up his shirt a little, showing that he’s wearing a bright orange shirt underneath the white pinstripe Yankees one.
“I lost a bet with my buddy, and he made me wear this shirt until the fifth. I bleed orange and blue, though, I promise.”
It’s 2-2 now as she responds, “I can’t believe a diehard Mets fan would ever be caught dead with that awful logo. I’m deeply sorry you lost the bet.”
Derek finally strikes out batter number two.
“I’m Laura,” she offers her hand to fist bump the man.
“Stiles.” He reciprocates.
“Is your buddy here?” She asks as batter number 3 takes his position at home.
“Nah, he couldn’t make it. But the game is televised. He could see me at any time and I wouldn’t know it.”
“Ah,” she nods. “Well, then I guess you’re stuck till the fifth.”
Stiles shrugs. “As long as hottie Hale doesn’t see me, I’ll be okay.”
“Hottie WHO?”
“FUCK,” he swears. “I forgot who I was sitting next to.” Stiles rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “I mean, respectfully, your brother is very, very good looking. And I know he is so far out of my league. But a guy can’t help but dream, you know?”
Laura smirks. “Oh Stiles, I think today is your lucky day.”
Derek strikes out batter number three to end the inning. She sees him making his way towards the dugout and stands, waving her arms and yelling his name to get his attention.
Derek waves back.
“Der!” She points to Stiles. “Your biggest fan!”
Derek sees the Yankees shirt and cocks his head in confusion. Stiles, meanwhile, has turned a bright shade of red and is hiding behind his beer.
“Laura, I can’t believe you just did that,” Stiles hisses, and Laura laughs.
“Trust me, kid. You’ll be glad I did. Just stick with me after the game. I think my little brother would be very happy to meet you. Just toss your shirt in the trash first.”
Derek ends up throwing a no-hitter in his first starting game, and the Mets win the first game of the series.
Later, it’s Derek and Stiles who win. And it’s all thanks to Laura.