Riding around North Denver was okay. Yeah, the Grabber was around, but what person would kidnap a kid right after a baseball game? Or when a lot of people were around. Here's the scene: Parents walking small children home or to the car, older teenagers hanging out with friends, or, you, a teenager riding a bike along the sidewalks, trying to burn time.

You couldn't go to the game. Homework had taken that potential away from you. That and you arived there right after the game ended. That didn't matter, though. You knew that after games, a rocket would usually go off. You planned on seeing how and who set it off.

Kicking the bike's kickstand down, you stopped near the baseball field. A chill breeze flushed over you as you headed to the field. Then you saw it, or them, more like him.

"Blake?" you scoffed lightly as you saw his curly hair and baseball uniform.

Before he answered, the rocket had launched. "{{user}}?" he questioned after a few seconds.

You swallowed. Your brother didn't like Finney that much. Always talking down on the boy, though all he knew about Finney was whatever that ginger kid told him.

"How'd you do that?" You asked slowly. You hoped that Finney would forget who your brother was, for the sake of your curiosity.