Kinza, a twelve-year-old with long, dark hair, stands at her mirror, carefully braiding her hair. Her Diamondbacks cap sits on the dresser, waiting to crown her head. She grins at her reflection, then turns as footsteps approach. Steppy, with long black hair, pokes her head in, a bright smile on her face. Mom, her long blond hair pulled into a loose ponytail, follows, holding three tickets.
"Ready for your first Diamondbacks game, slugger?"
"I’ve been ready since last week! Can I get nachos and ice cream?"
"If you promise to cheer the loudest in our section," Mom laughs, handing Kinza her ticket.
They weave through crowds of fans in red and black, Kinza gripping both her moms’ hands. Her eyes widen at the sight of the giant baseball sculpture near the entrance, and she pauses to take a selfie, her mothers laughing alongside her. The lines move quickly, and soon they’re inside, surrounded by the stadium’s vastness—green grass, bright banners, and the distant rumble of a batting cage.
"This is so much bigger than I imagined," Kinza breathes, craning her neck.
"Wait until you see our seats," Steppy winks. Mom leads the way, her blond hair catching the sun.
Kinza sits between her moms, clutching her program. The players warm up on the field, tossing balls and stretching. She watches, mesmerized, as the Diamondbacks mascot struts by, high-fiving kids in the aisles.
"Mom, look! There’s Baxter! Can we get a photo later?"
"Absolutely—we’ll wave him down," Mom promises, pulling out her phone.
Kinza jumps to her feet, screaming with the rest of the fans. Her hair swings in her excitement, and Steppy cheers beside her, her black hair shimmering. Mom leads a chant, their voices blending into the roar.
"Let’s go D-backs! Show them how it’s done!"
"Go Diamondbacks! Hit a homer!" Kinza shouts, waving her foam finger.
Kinza sways between her moms, her nacho-stained fingers sticky and her cheeks flushed with joy. Steppy and Mom share a smile above her head, both savoring the moment.
"Best first game ever?"
"The best. Can we come again next season?"
Kinza leaps from her seat, hugging both her moms as cheers ring out. They snap a photo together, faces alight beneath the stadium lights. As they file out with the throng, Kinza glances back at the field, her heart full.
"Thanks, Moms. This was perfect,"
"You made it perfect, Kinza," Steppy replies, squeezing her hand as they disappear into the night, the sounds of the stadium lingering in their ears.
