"Professor," Bastian grunted. He did not look up. "You are all over the newspapers. This is bad. Your head will get big. You will become soft."
"My head is fine, Bastian," Alex said, walking to his locker, number 38. "And I'm not soft."
"We will see," Bastian rumbled. "Fame makes everyone soft."
The locker room door opened. Harry, the captain, walked in. He was holding a stack of newspapers and grinning from ear to ear.
"GENTLEMEN! GOOD MORNING!" Harry roared, dropping the papers on the central bench. "Have you seen this? We are not just a team! We are a story!"
He held up the back page. The headline was huge.
THE HURRICANE ARRIVES.
There was a big picture of Alex, his arm out, pointing. A picture of Antoine, mid spin. And a picture of Mark, roaring, his arms in the air.
"Look at us!" Harry laughed. "The Brain, The Magic, and The Speed! I love it! How does it feel to be a weather event, Professor?"
