AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Here is the much anticipated second chapter of 'The Summer that Changed Our Lives!' Wooohooo. If you didn't read the author's note in the (rewritten-ish) first chapter, I have come back and decided to finish (or really start it) this story! I know we all get super cringey at OC stories, but I don't want to give up on this one, yet. And I do realize that Riley is sort of a Mary Sue because (shocker) she's a girl who likes baseball. Oh well. What are you gonna do? I wrote this story when I was first learning about fanfiction, so I'm just going to go with it. Hopefully, I'll make Riley as original as possible. Anyway, enjoy!
PS, I bought The Sandlot on Amazon the other day and should be coming in the mail soon. That should definitely mean that I'll be writing more.
I felt bad for Scotty. I mean, it was his first time trying to play baseball and the poor kid gets a black eye. Not exactly ideal. He did catch it, though, so that was a plus.
I looked over at him and saw him examining his glove. It must have busted when he caught the ball. That didn't make things any better. I patted his shoulder and gave him a look of pity.
"Hey," the boy that Scotty had waved at yesterday greeted, walking up to our porch.
"Hey," Scotty replied and I waved.
"I'm gonna play some ball. We need an extra guy. You wanna go?" the boy asked, looking at my brother and ignoring me. Typical.
Scotty shook his head. "No, thanks."
The boy looked confused. "Why not? Don't you like baseball?"
"Oh yea, but, uh-" I could tell Scotty was trying really hard to make up an excuse not play.
"But what?" Geez, this kid was determined.
"But my glove; it's busted. See, uh, now I can't go. Thanks, though."
"It's okay," the boy replied. "I got an extra one. Come on, let's go."
"Can my sister come?" Scotty asked, glancing over at me.
The boy looked hesitant, probably not wanting to play with a girl.
"I'll just watch," I reassured him. He nodded in response.
Scotty jumped up and opened the screen door. "Mom, Riley and I are gonna go play some ball. Be back in a little while."
"Come on, let's go," the boy repeated. Scotty and I followed after him.
I was nervous, not for myself but for Scotty. He wasn't good at making friends. Never was. This kid seemed really into baseball and Scotty's skills were lacking in that area. I just hoped his lack of talent didn't harm his chances of friendship.
"So what are your names?" the boy asked as we walked.
"I'm Scott Smalls but everyone calls me Scotty," my brother replied. They both looked over at me.
"Riley," I answered simply.
"What's yours?" Scotty asked.
"Benny Rodriguez."
The rest of the walk was silent on the older boy's part. I noticed right away that Benny wasn't a person of many words. He stayed quiet as Scotty and I chatted idly. When we arrived at a place called "Vincent's Drug Store," Benny told us that 'the guys' were around back. I fell into step a little behind Benny and Scott, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
In the back of the store, a red-haired chubby boy stood in front of a few other boys. He had a fake cigar hanging from his mouth as he talked.
"I'm the Great Bambino," he said, though it was hardly understandable.
"What?" the boys asked, looking at each other then back at him.
"I'm the Great Bambino," he repeated, a little louder. Again, the boys had no idea what he was saying. I had to chuckle at the boy's impression of Babe Ruth. I watched as he took the cigar from his mouth, annoyed. "I'm the Great Bambino!"
"Oh," the other boys mumbled, laughing, too.
"Who's that?" Scotty spoke. I resisted the urge to face-palm. I always forget just how little he knows about baseball.
The boys all looked at each other, shocked and probably disgusted that Scotty had to ask. Ham turned to look at Scott and said, "What? What did he say?"
One of the boys, who was wearing round glasses, spoke up first. "What, were you born in a barn, man?"
"Yeah, yeah, what planet are you from?" another boy asked.
A boy, with more square looking glasses chimed in, "You've never heard of the Sultan of Swat?"
"The Titan of Terror?"
"The Colossus of Clout?"
"The Colossus of Clout?"
"The King of Crash, man," Benny stated, looking embarrassed.
Scott seemed to realize that these boys meant serious business when it came to baseball so he decided to play along. I would have to remember to explain it to him one day. "Oh yeah! The Great Bambino. Of course. I thought you said the Great Bambi."
The chubby kid looked at Scott like he was stupid. "That wimpy dear?"
I had to admit, Scott's excuse was pretty lame. Yet another thing I would have to teach him. Then again, what are big sisters for?
"Yeah, I guess. Sorry," Scott mumbled his reply.
Seeing Scott's discomfort, Benny spoke up. "Anyway, Scott, that's Timmy and Tommy Timmons." He pointed at the two boys on the end. They looked alike but one was slightly older than the other. "Mike 'Squints' Palledorous." The boy with square glasses. "Allan McCellan- we call him Yeah-Yeah." A shorter boy, with brown hair. "Bertram Grover Weeks." The tallest boy, with round glasses. "Kenny Denunez." An African-American boy. "And Hamilton Porter; we call him Ham." The chubby, redhead. "Guys, this is Scott Smalls and his sister Riley."
Scott raised his hand and smiled. "Hi!"
I just stared at the boys who were sending us both glares. They were obviously not happy with our being there. To be honest, I wasn't too happy that I had been dragged there, either but you don't see me glaring. Boys.
"Um, yeah," Benny said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Scott's gonna play with us, 'cause he makes nine. So, now we got a whole team. We're wasting time. Let's go to the sandlot."
All the boys groaned and jeered. "It's nine o'clock in the morning."
At this place they called the sandlot, Scott and I walked behind as the boys mumbled to each other. I could tell that they didn't like the idea of Scott playing with them. It made me angry. Scott was a good kid and didn't deserve to be made fun of because he was a "geek," according to Bertram.
"The kid is a L7 weenie!" Squints shouted, holding his hands up to make what looked like a square.
"Yeah, yeah. Oscar Meyer, even. Foot long! Dodger dog! A weenie!" Yeah-Yeah added.
I looked over a Scott. He had his head bowed to hide his embarrassment. I nudged him and he looked up at me.
"Don't listen to them," I said to him, with what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "They're bozos."
Scotty smiled, weakly and nodded. Before I could continue, Benny walked over to us.
"Smalls, you take left center, okay?" He pointed Scott in the right direction and then looked at me, expectantly.
When I realized that I was still standing on the field, I coughed, awkwardly. "I'll, uh, just go wait in the dugout."
Benny nodded and I trekked over to the dugout just as Scott asked if he was in the right spot. He wasn't but Benny corrected him. Benny took bat and threw the baseball up for himself to hit. He hit it to Yeah-Yeah, who threw it to Bertram, to Timmy and then to Ham. I had to admit that for a ragtag team of kids, they were better than any actual team.
"Hey, Smalls! Throw it to second!" Benny shouted. I groaned. This was not going to end well.
I watched as Benny hit the ball again. It went soaring through the air, towards Scotty. He started to run backwards but tripped over his own feet and fell on his back. I buried my face in my hands out of second-hand embarrassment. Poor Scotty. Once he had retrieved the ball, he looked ready to throw it but changed his mind. He ran to Kenny and placed the baseball in his glove. It was even worse than I thought it was going to be.