The first thing that caught my eye the moment I stepped out of the school building was a group of boys playing baseball. You'd think I would have simply walked passed such a mediocre scene, but that wasn't the case for me. I loved baseball, and I wanted to see what the fuss was all about.

"Who's winning?" I asked as I approached one of the female bystanders watching the game.

"The Sandlot team," she answered without tearing her eyes away from the field. I was tempted to ask her who The Sandlot team was, but I instantly got the vibe it was something I was "supposed" to know.

"Oh my God!" The girl cried as she pointed to the field. "It's Benny! Benny's about to bat, everyone!"

A wave of squeals emitted from the cluster of girls surrounding the field, and I instantly rolled my eyes at their show of adoration. Adoration for a hunk, no doubt.

Turning my attention towards the batter's box, I expected to see a handsome, blonde-haired blue eyed Adonis God—or something along the lines. What I did not expect, however, was the reaction I expressed when a young, dark-haired boy stepped up to the plate and positioned himself for a swing.

He was cute, I'll give him that. But there was something about his aura that caught my breath. There was something in the way he carried himself that made me feel…taken aback. Maybe intimidated.

Shaking out of my stupor, I turned my attention back to the bystanders, most of which were girls, and suddenly couldn't blame them anymore.

"Why are you so excited to see him bat?" I asked, although I already knew the answer. For the first time since I approached the girl, she looked at me.

"You don't know him?" She asked in slight surprise. "I thought everyone would have known Benny 'The Jet' by now?"

"I'm sorry, who?"

"Benny! He's—well, he's kind of a legend around here. What's your name? I'm Alice, by the way."

"I'm Annabelle Johnson," I said as I shook her hand. "And what do you mean he's a legend?"

Alice put a finger under her chin and thought. "Well, it's kind of a long story. Just watch him play, and you'll know what I mean," she added with a sly smile as she pointed back at the boy named Benny.

Following her instruction, I watched the pitcher threw the ball. Ooh, a fast ball! This Benny guy was sure to miss! I was sure of it.

I was wrong.

Benny hit a towering home run and, in a flash, began rounding bases. I watched in amazement as he sped up. Never in my life had I seen a person run so fast. This boy was just full of surprises.

It didn't end there.

As if it was fate, the ball finally landed…near my foot. I picked it up, and looked around, unsure of what to do. Of course, no one had paid any attention to the ball—just Benny—and in my hesitancy, I threw the ball back into the field.

Unfortunately for the catcher, whom I didn't mean to aim at, I threw the ball a bit too hard, causing him to stumble back in surprise as the ball narrowly missed the side of his face.

"Whoopsies," I mumbled as I watched the catcher spin around in confusion. I realized at that moment, too, that I had just assisted the opposing team.

I turned to look at the crowd, glad that all of them were much too absorbed to see my blunder. All of them, that is, except for Alice, who shot me a raised eyebrow.

"What?" I asked. "The other team was getting creamed, anyway. A little help won't hurt."

"No," she said as she shook the perplexity off her face. "I was just stunned, that's all. I've never seen a girl throw a ball like that!"

Call me prideful, but I couldn't help but smirk. "I used to be on a baseball team when I was living in Japan," I told her as casually as I could. "I was on an all girls' team."

"That's so cool!" Alice exclaimed. "You know what? You need to meet Benny!"

I shook my head as I laughed. "No, that's alright. I should be getting home anyway."

Alice only shook her head in understanding and waved as I began walking away. For some reason, I felt unnerved—as if I were being watched. I turned around and, to my utter surprise, spotted a pair of eyes glued to mine. They were Benny's eyes, and he starred at me with a notably crooked smile. I waved at him and smiled back, unsure if he was really looking at me. Sure enough, he waved back before running back to play the game.

I loitered around the park, not really in the mood to go home anymore. The result of talking to Alice about my old baseball team in Japan made me nostalgic, and I just needed a quite place to reminisce. However, knowing that my mother wouldn't appreciate it if I left her to do most of the unpacking, I got up from the park bench and began making my way home.

"So how was your first day of school?" My mother asked me as I entered the kitchen. Smiling, I sat on the nearby stool and began telling her about meeting Alice and how it made me homesick. I even told her about my indirect encounter with Benny "The Jet," not feeling embarrassed because I knew I could tell her anything. My step-dad, on the other hand, was a totally different story, which is why I pleadingly told my mother, "Don't tell Ryan, please. You know he'll ground me or something."

My mother nodded her head in understanding as she moved a stray hair from my face.

"You know, Annabelle—" she began to say. "I know—I just—nevermind. Why don't you go look around town and see if you can find a baseball team you can play for. It would make moving here a lot easier if you had some people to enjoy your time with."

"Thanks mom," I said excitedly as I jumped off the stool and ran towards my room, intent on changing into jeans, an old baseball top, and a pair of PF flyers. Not to sound materialistic, but if there was anything good about my mother's marriage to Ryan, it was that he had money. Lots and lots of money.

After grabbing my mitt and squeezing it into the back pocket of my jeans, I grabbed my baseball cap and froze as I stared at the symbol on the front: an angel with a devil pitch and fork. I suddenly felt another wave of nostalgia as I recalled my old baseball team, the "Angels from Hell." It was a pretty controversial title. But then again, my coach was a pretty controversial person. Goodness, I missed my old coach. I missed my team. But I knew I couldn't waste my time feeling wistful. It did nothing but make me feel sad and regretful.

Keeping that fact in mind, I shook myself back to reality and ran out of the house with the intention of finding a new team…of finding new friends to make new memories with.

After much exploring, in which I found a drug store selling baseballs, I came across a sandlot. It was perfect in size, and I probably would have claimed it for myself, had it been empty.

At the current moment, a group of boys were scattered around the lot, obviously playing a game of baseball. I stood behind a large hedge and watched as a short kid walk towards one of the fences surrounding the sandlot. He picked up a baseball, but something made him jump back and nearly trip over some branches.

He turned back at the fence in confusion, switching his attention from the other boys and back.

"Come on!" One of the boys yelled from across the lot. "We're waiting!"

Feeling as if the other boys were much more important than whatever it was that frightened him, I watched as the short kid awkwardly positioned himself, and then threw the ball. It didn't go very far.

I probably would have laughed too, had the other boys not laughed first. It wasn't a collection of good natured laughs, however. It was more like jeering, and it was enough to cause the young boy to run away in dejection.

To my surprise, I recognized one of the boys as Benny, and although he wasn't laughing along with the rest of the kids, I still felt a pang of disappointment.

Turning around, I went after the poor boy who had run away and easily caught up with him.

"Hey!" I yelled, catching his attention. "Hey! What's wrong?"

The boy turned around and sighed.

"Nothing," he said dismally. "I just—I can't throw or catch a baseball."

I bit down on my bottom lip and smiled. He may not be a good baseball player, but with a little training, he could be pretty decent.

"I'll teach you," I said, causing him to widen his eyes in astonishment.

"Really? You know how to play baseball? But you're a girl! Do you really like baseball? You really, really play?" I pointed to my cap and shirt, hoping that was enough to answer his redundant questions.

Within minutes, we were in front of his house batching and throwing my baseball. He lived right across the street from my house, which made me a bit nervous. If Ryan ever saw me playing with a boy, I knew it'd be the end.

"Okay, Scotty, never take your eye off the ball," I told him for the hundredth time that hour. "No matter what position you are in, keep your eye ON the ball. Where the ball goes, your mitt goes. To catch, don't snap at it. If you catch it right, your glove with close by itself, okay?"

"Okay," he said. "I think I got it now."

I tried to refrain from playfully snorting and just threw the ball lightly at him. He missed.

"Don't worry about it," I told him gently, knowing that positive comments would keep him motivated. "I missed a lot when I first started."

Scotty only nodded his head, although I couldn't tell if he believed me or not.

Suddenly, the door to his house opened, and a red-headed woman stepped out.

"Who is this Scotty?" She asked as she smiled at me.

"Oh this is…? Um…this is…she never told me her name."

"Annabelle Johnson, ma'am," I said bowing. It was a habit I picked up in Japan, and something obviously peculiar to Mrs. Scotty's-Mom.

"She's teaching me how to play baseball," Scotty added, causing her to change her look of confusion to one of enthusiasm.

"Thank you," she said. "His dad was going to teach him, but he never seems to find the time. He keeps saying he's 'under the gun.'"

"Don't worry. I always like to help people," I said as she retreated back into the house.

I turned towards Scotty while he got into a throwing stance and stood next to him.

"Okay, now for throwing. Again, when your arm gets here, let go," I explained while showing him how to throw. "And if you're far away from the catcher, just aim a little bit above his head. Got it?'

"Got it." Scotty said. I ran back to my spot and waited for him to throw. For the first time since Scotty and I started practicing, he actually threw a good ball, and I caught it with ease before cheering him on.

"Good job, man! Now here. Catch this!" I threw the ball back to Scotty, and with a bit of fumbling, he caught the ball.

"Nice catch," I said. The feat must have meant a lot to Scotty, because he instantly dropped the baseball and ran back into his house.

"Mom! "I heard him yell from outside. "Guess what? I threw and caught a ball!"

Laughing at his excitement, I went to pick up the ball he had dropped, but was stunned to see Benny on the other side of the street holding it in his hand. Our eyes met for an instant before he smiled again—that same, crooked smile—and tossed the ball to me. I caught it without trouble and watched as he continued walking towards the house next to mine! It was strange how I not only ran into him at the sandlot, but he lived next door to me as well.

"Hey, Annabelle?" Scotty asked meekly as he tugged on the sleeve on my shirt. "I'm planning on going back to the sandlot. You know, to show those guys that I can throw and catch now. But I was just wondering…could you come with me?"

"Sure." I replied, not really giving it much thought. "But if we go, you're going to have to learn how to pitch, too."

"Okay," he said with determination I handed him the ball.

For the next half hour, I showed him how to pitch and how to catch a pitch. His dad eventually joined once he came home, but I had to go home shortly after. Scotty and I said our goodbyes, and he thanked me again for helping him out.

Finding my mother in the backyard planting flowers, I sat down next to her and began pulling weeds.

"Thank you," she muttered unhappily. I knew she was in one of those moods again.

"Mom, I still don't get what you see in Ryan," I said. "I mean he doesn't let us do anything we like. He's so—controlling."

"I know but he really is very sweet-"

"Oh, don't make me be sick!" I complained. "He's only nice to you. Not to me! I swear, he would rather have no daughter."

My mother looked at me sympathetically. She knew how Ryan treated me, and yet she insisted he was just strict. That was when I heard the door behind us open and saw the devil himself step out.

"Annabelle," he said sternly. "Go to your room. I need to speak with your mother."

I stood up, not even bothering to hide the glare I only reserved for him, and reluctantly walked back into the house.