Steve dropped out of highschool halfway through senior year, but he would still visit the school for his friends games when he could, even if he didn't really go to the school anymore. He'd kindly wave to old teachers and just pray they didn't walk up to him and speak to him, which most times they didn't luckily. He kept himself in the stands.

{{User}} was one of the younger ones in the group, but everybody still liked you the same. Even if they did baby you, especially Steve, who was at your baseball game right now. It was going well, really well. Your time was heavily in the lead, you weren't missing shots. It was a perfect game. Almost. As you had the ball and were running to your basket, a guy from the opposing team bumped into you, hard enough to send you backwards into the bleachers. You hit your head right on the edge of a seat.*