MAJOR AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Uh, hey. This is a little awkward since I sort of abandoned this story after just one chapter. Three years later, I have decided not to give up! Yay! This chapter is sort of redone. I just fixed a few spelling and grammar mistakes. I didn't get too extensive, though. The only major change I made was I switched Riley's name spelling. I spelled so weird the first time. While Riley isn't exactly a major girl name from the 60's, I didn't want to change it completely because that would be confusing. Anyway, I will be updating this story again! Cool. Re-read, or don't, whatever floats your boat.
"Scotty, hurry up! I would really like to get done unpacking before I'm 90!" I yelled at my younger stepbrother.
We had just moved to the Valley. My dad and his mom had gotten married just a year before we moved to the Valley. I could tell Scotty was still unsure of what to call my dad. He alternated between Bill and Dad. I honestly had no problem calling his mom, Mom. She was really nice and I knew I'd be able to ask her anything, unlike my own mom. My real mom left my dad and I when I was 5. She said she had bigger and better dreams than being a stay-at-home mom. She wanted to be a 'star.' Last I heard she was still singing karaoke in the local bars.
I walked outside and over to the little U-Haul trailer. Scotty picked up a box then put it down on top some other boxes. He waved at a boy who was walking across the street. The boy nodded in acknowledgement and then walked up to the porch of a house, heading inside. Scotty sighed then took the box in the house. I knew exactly what he was thinking. How in the hell are you supposed to make friends in a whole new state? I left all my friends behind and I had to make a whole new set of friends. Maybe I could just become a friendless loser and never leave home. Maybe my dad would change his mind about making us move. Okay, I was being a little over-dramatic but a girl can dream, can't she?
I sighed and then grabbed a box, walking inside. I walked in to my room which was next to Scotty's. I set the box on my bed and sat down next to it. I wiped some sweat from my forehead. Ugh, why did California have to be so hot? I pulled my blonde hair back into a ponytail and began unpacking my things.
The next few days were spent unpacking and getting things organized in the house. One night, I heard Mom go into Scotty's room and tell him that needed to try and make some friends. Due to the very thin walls I heard the whole conversation. She told him he needed to be a kid and get into to trouble. She officially became the coolest mom ever, in my eyes.
"Maybe you and Riley can try and make some friends together," I heard her say.
I frowned. She honestly wanted a 13 year old girl to make friends with 11 year olds? Really? I heard her walk to the door and close it. She walked past my room and told me goodnight. I sighed and fell asleep.
The next morning, Scotty and I were eating cereal at the table. Dad was sitting next to me reading some papers. Scotty took his bowl into the kitchen and I sat silently at the table. I heard him and and Mom whisper-arguing in the kitchen. A minute later, Scotty walked back in, Mom followed behind.
"Uh, Bill, I-I mean, Dad," he said nervously.
"Yeah?" Dad replied not looking up from papers.
"Could you, like you said, teach me to play catch?"
"Yeah, sure. But I gotta get some work stuff finished, okay?"
"Oh, okay."
Mom stepped forward. "Bill, could you teach him now?"
After bickering for a few minutes about it, Dad finally gave in and went outside with Scotty to teach him.
I sat on the back porch and watched them. I thought back to the time Dad taught me to play. I was about 7 years old. After my real mom left, I became very tomboyish and begged my dad to teach my to play baseball. He always wanted a son to play baseball with so I guess he figured I was the next best thing. I picked up the throwing part right away but catching was a bit more of challenge for me. I practiced night and day until I finally gotten good enough to at least be a pitcher. My dad set up little games in the neighborhood we lived in back then. The boys always told me girls couldn't play baseball but I quickly shut them up when I pitched. I did get made fun of alot in school by a lot by the girls. They always thought it was weird that a girl was playing baseball. Actually, it was pretty much frowned upon by them. Everyone considered it a boy sport but I didn't care. I loved it more than anything.
"Ow! My eye!" Scotty yelled with hand over his eye. I followed them inside. Dad got out a steak from the freezer and put it on his eye. He told him to keep it on his eye for an hour and that it would still be bruised but it wouldn't swell. He said sorry and then walked back into his trophy room.
Scotty and I went out to the front porch and sat in silence. This was going to be a long summer.