We left the hotel at noon and found ourselves at a medium-sized ballpark, with Bitsy and I dressed in our number eight jerseys. Jon didn't wear a jersey, but he wore a t-shirt with the team colors, blue and white. He still did the whole dark-eyed sinister thing, but he managed to carry it off and not look ridiculous. I couldn't remember the last time he wasn't wearing black outside of the swimming pool. He gave me the cold shoulder and answered with one word whenever he could get away with it, but he'd made his point. I know he didn't think I would listen or take advice from him, but he had managed to break through the wall I'd put up since Reed's mother's visit.
Tickets were waiting and our seats were above the Bandits' dugout.
