Little Leaguers

Chapter One: First Base

Ian Gallagher wasn't sure why the boy on first base never washed his face. He was always dirty. He showed up to practice dirty and he left dirty, every day. Ian never knew why. The boy didn't stink, not really. But his face always had more dirt than the usual twelve year old boy.

He never really had anyone to watch him play. Ian had a practically a whole team to watch him play, his fifteen-year-old sister Fiona and twelve year old brother Lip, Debbie playing with the dogs that randomly roamed outside the diamond, while Fiona occupied five-year-old Carl. But the first base boy never had anyone to cheer him on.

"Milkovich, stop picking your nose and pay attention," yelled the commissioner. He hated the kid on first base. Everyone knew it. Ian often heard grown ups talk about how the Milkovich kid would end up in Juvie, whatever that meant. Ian had heard the word a lot, but never knew what it meant.

"Fuck you," yelled the Milkovich kid on first base. Ian laughed so hard he snorted. The first base boy gave him the gesture. The one gesture that got Ian spanked by his mother. He was sure if the first base boy's parents saw him they'd definitely spank him.

"Milkovich, get off the diamond," the commissioner yelled. He called a break for lunch. Ian had a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle lunch box that Fiona had packed with a delicious peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich, goldfish crackers, a Caprisun, and some Oreos. Ian noticed that the first base boy had nothing to eat. He sat in the dugout by himself kicking dirt around while the other boys paired off to eat their lunches.

"Want to share my lunch?" Ian asked holding out his TMNT lunchbox to Mickey Milkovich. The boy had shockingly blue eyes, bluer than any Ian had ever seen. Mickey had written "FUCK" in the dirt with his cleats.

"Fuck off," Mickey said a tiny voice that sounded like it was hiding tears. Ian scooted closer to him on the bench.

"Its fluffernutter," Ian said his freckled face full of smiles as he held out his sandwich to Mickey.

"Gimme," said Mickey snatching the sandwich from Ian. He noticed Ian was still smiling even though his sandwich was stolen. That was peculiar.

"I'm Ian Gallagher, I play second base."

"Mickey Milkovich, I play first, but you know that because I throw to you sometimes," says Mickey. "I hate our coach. He's stupid."

"Yeah. He has stupid hair," said Ian to make Mickey laugh.

"He has a stupid butt," said Mickey. Ian laughed so hair he hiccupped with made him laugh some more. Mickey laughed too. "You're weird."

"Do you want to come over and play?" Ian asked his new friend.

"Do you have any guns?"

"No. Fiona says guns are bad. When mommy and daddy aren't around we have to mind Fiona."

"Too bad for you. I do what I want when I want," said Mickey.

"Where are your parents?"

"What the fuck you talking about?"

"I never see anyone come to the games to cheer for you."

"My mom is dead and Dad doesn't give a shit."

"My dad drinks and mom is something. I forget what Fiona said it's called, but she has these mood swings. It's complicated. But we can still be friends right?" Ian asked.

"No. Why would I want to be friends with you?" Mickey asked, shoving Ian and taking the rest of his lunch and running away with it. Ian couldn't help but smile.

He waited for Fiona outside the field at the end of practice. He saw Mickey walking by himself. Ian frowned. "Hey, Ian, what are you looking at?"

"Nothing," Ian said, even if he wanted to follow Mickey he probably shouldn't, Fiona might get mad or worried.

"Where's your lunch box?"

"It was stolen," said Ian with a smile.

"Then why are you smiling?"

"Because my new friend stole it."

"Ian, he's not your friend if he stole your lunch box," said Fiona walking side by side with Ian. She was chasing after Carl. He was throwing rocks at birds and laughing. When Fiona tried to take his rocks he would cry and hit her so she let it go.

"Could you cheer for the first base boy when you come to my next game?" Ian asked Fiona as they rounded the corner under the L towards home.

"Why?"

"Because no one ever comes to watch him, it makes him sad, but he won't admit it."

"Okay, I will then."

Ian walked in silence with his brother and sister. His thoughts were the only place an eleven year old boy's thoughts are, on sports. But it wasn't the game he was thinking about it was his new found friend, and the first base boy's bright blue eyes.

Ian felt something in his stomach. It was a weird sensation that made him happy. Whatever it was felt good and it went away when got home and saw Frank passed out on the kitchen floor and Monica with a needle in her arm at the kitchen table. Fiona rushed Ian upstairs. That was the routine. When Frank and Monica were home the kids usually stayed upstairs.

Lip was lying on his stomach doing his homework when Ian and Carl entered. Carl immediately got out his toys, which were actually Lip's old toys, and he got into some of Ian's army men. Ian loved army toys. It was his dream to be an officer in the military and be a hero to his country.

"What's wrong with mom?" Ian asked Lip.

Lip looked up from his homework, "Drugs," was all he said and returned to his business.

"But drugs are bad," Ian said.

"Ding ding, we have a winner. Tell him what he has won. They're drug addicts, Ian."

"No they're not. They just do it sometimes, not all the time. You're a liar."

"When have I ever lied to you?"

Ian stretched his brain but he couldn't think of a single time Lip had ever lied or been wrong about something that his brother did or said. Lip had always looked out for Ian. Ian considered Lip his best friend. That was why he had to tell him about his new friend.

"I made a new friend," Ian said.

"That's great, Ian, I'm trying to study."

"His name is Mickey Milkovich," Ian said. That got Lip's attention.

"He's in my grade," Lip said, "He usually sleeps in class." But Ian laughed at that. That sounded like Mickey. "You shouldn't be friends with him."

"But he doesn't have any one else," Ian said finally taking off his cleats. He threw them across the room and they landed perfectly upright side by side. "He stole my lunch today."

"If he stole your lunch then he's obviously not your friend."

"Fiona said that too, but you don't know him like I do."

"Whatever, I'm doing my homework. Shut up."

Ian laid back in his bed and thought of the blue-eyed boy on first base. The weird stomach feeling was back.