Hello everyone! I am yet again updating much much later than I originally planned... Sorry about that. I won't ramble on too long, but I would like to thank Izout, Heydude338, God'sgirlforever, YeahYeahOveBen, fandomhearted122, Myself, and radgreasers for reviewing! You really have no idea how much it means to me to hear that you like something that I've written.
Disclaimer: I just realized that I never actually wrote one of these. I was originally going to try to do one of those really funny ones, but then I decided that I'm too lazy and not creative enough, so I'll just say that I do not own the Sandlot or any of the characters! Now read on!
Smalls' POV
The next morning dawns brightly, birds chirping happily in the tree outside my window, and I can't help but think that it's unfair for the birds to be so wonderfully carefree while I am stuck biting my nails and worrying about the Team's reaction to Phillips being at Benny's house. I quickly jump out of my bed, dart over to the closet, and throw on a random shirt and pair of pants. I run downstairs and I briefly consider having some breakfast, but decide against it; my stomach is churning violently and I'm really not sure that I'll be able to keep anything down.
It takes me about 5 seconds to sprint to Benny's house just down the street, and then I'm knocking on his door, politely yet firmly, panicking on the inside, trying not to let it show on my face. Of course, as soon as Mrs. Rodriguez spies my rumpled clothes, and unbrushed hair, she offers me a sympathetic smile and a motherly pat on the arm.
"Did you eat anything before you left your house, Scotty?" She asks, looking like she already knows the answer.
"No…" I mutter sheepishly, not looking her in the eyes. "I was too nervous and I didn't think I would be able to keep anything down." She makes a clucking sound with her tongue and suddenly I'm being dragged into the house.
"You'd better come and eat with Benny then." She commands authoritatively, leaving no room for argument. "He didn't want to eat this morning either, but I made him have something, because you both are going to need to keep your strength up for later." She immediately plops me down in a chair at the table in the middle of the kitchen, right next to Benny who is pushing his food around on his plate and tapping his foot anxiously on the floor.
In seconds she's whipped up a plate (i.e. mountain) of food and placed it in front of me, setting a fork and a knife down also. I pale as I take in the amount of food that is now in front of me, reflexively clutching my stomach and swallowing hard.
"You don't have to eat all of it," Benny assures me in a whisper. "But you should probably try to take a bite of everything to make her happy." I nod and tentatively raise a forkful of scrambled eggs to my mouth and chew them. They feel rubbery in my mouth, but I know that it's just my nerves and that Mrs. Rodriguez is an excellent cook. I quickly take a swig of orange juice and choke down a couple bites of various food stuffs on the plate (A/N: Have you guys ever heard anyone say food stuffs? I've heard people say it before, and it sounds funny, so I decided to use it…).
Suddenly the doorbell rings and I twitch, dropping my fork onto the ground with a loud clatter. There's silence for a moment and we can hear all of the guys joking around and taunting each other on the porch. Slowly Benny and I stand up, shove our chairs back towards the table, and slowly plod towards the door, stomachs churning once again.
All conversation stops as we swing the door open and the Team sees us; Benny with dark bags under his eyes from checking on Phillips and worrying throughout the night, and me, the kid who irons his socks and brushes his teeth religiously, with a rumpled mismatching outfit, messy hair, and slightly wild eyes.
Ham, of course, is the one to break the silence. "You two look like crap." The rest of the team nod in agreement and I try to force some semblance of a smile on my face, though it probably looks more like a grimace, before stepping back, silently beckoning them to come in.
They seem to pick up on the tension radiating from Benny and I, and wisely stay silent as the cross the threshold into the living room. I take a deep breath and exhale shakily before turning towards Benny and nodding slightly.
Benny's POV
My stomach is churning frantically, but when I see Smalls nod slightly, I know that it's time, that we have to tell them.
"Okay, so here's the deal guys," I start out nervously, my voice wavering slightly, betraying my nervously. Everyone turns to look at me, and reflexively my fingers clench into the fabric of my jeans. "On our way home from the Sandlot yesterday, Smalls and I happened upon something… interesting." Eyebrows raise at that, but thankfully no one interrupts. "We… well, we were walking down the main street ion the rich neighborhood when we saw a kid get home late and he started getting yelled at by his dad. Nothing unusual about that, right?" I ask. Everyone nods their head yes and I continue.
"That's what Smalls and I thought too, so we forgot about it. About 10 minutes later, as we were nearing the edge of the neighborhood, a kid ran into us and knocked us over and kept going as if he hadn't even noticed us. I suppose that should've been the first clue, or maybe the second clue that something was wrong, but again, we chose to ignore it. Then as we passed by an alley way I heard something. When I peeked in, I saw the same kid that knocked us over huddled in the very back with his knees pulled up to his chest, sobbing. We tried getting closer to check him out, ya know, make sure he was alright, but he started hyperventilating as soon as we took a step. Even when we backed off he wasn't able to calm down, and eventually he passed out, so we went closer, so see what was wrong with him. When we turned him over and saw his face… Well, let's just say it wasn't pretty. We couldn't just leave him there, where anybody could find him, so I brought him here." I confess, glancing towards the stairs.
A quick glance at the Team's faces reveals that they're sympathetic, but severely confused. "I don't see the problem here." Bertram spoke up tentatively, prompting nods all around. "Yeah yeah, did you really think that we would be mad that you helped a kid from the rich neighborhood when they were injured?" Yeah-Yeah questioned.
"There's another factor that might change your perspective* though." I mutter under my breath, knotting my fingers together and not looking anybody in the eyes. I open my mouth to confess that the person we rescued is Phillips, but I can't do it. Finally I sigh and turn on my heel, calling over my shoulder, "It'd be better if we just showed you."
I hear Smalls' footsteps behind me on the stairs and he grabs my shoulder when we reach the top. "Benny, what are you doing? Don't you want to warn them first, before you just spring this on them?" Smalls whispers in a slightly panicked voice, and when I turn towards him his eyes are wide.
"Well, if you want to tell them, then you can go right ahead, but personally I already have a headache and I don't feel like letting Ham scream in my face." I sigh, running a hand down my face wearily. Smalls' eyes widen even more and he gets a scared look on his face before he also sighs and nods dejectedly.
Presently we hear the thunderous sound of multiple pairs of feet pounding up the stairs. I slowly open the guest room door a little bit, leaving Smalls to shush the Team and make sure that they don't wake up Phillips when they come in. I poke my head in cautiously and sigh in relief when I realize Phillips is still asleep, facing the wall, his face hidden to anyone standing near the door.
I open the door the rest of the way and let the Team file in. Gasps are pulled from everyone's lips when Phillips shifts and the bandages that span from the very top of his chest to his belly button are revealed.
"Oh my god." I hear someone mutter behind me. Suddenly I notice something that makes my breath hitch and my heart skip a beat. There are multiple splotches of red on the otherwise pristine white bandages.
"Smalls," I whisper urgently, trying not to alarm the others. "Go get my mom and tell her that his back is bleeding again and the blood is seeping through the bandages." Smalls nods and sneaks out of the room.
He's back just a couple of seconds later and now my mom is trailing behind him, her hands filled with various antibacterial ointments and several rolls of bandages.
"Move." She orders sternly, yet not unkindly, causing the Team to scramble to get out of her way. She immediately sits down on the bed next to Phillips and smooths down his hair before gripping the end of the bandage. With deft fingers she unwinds it, tugging lightly when it sticks to some of the cuts on his back, smearing a generous amount of ointment onto her fingers and rubbing it in immediately afterwards. Finally, after making sure that all of the ointment had been rubbed in, and checking over the cuts once more, she grabs one of the clean rolls of bandages and rewraps them around Phillips' back, tying a secure knot at the end to make sure that they don't unravel later.
When she's done she grabs all of her supplies and leaves, but not before sending a meaningful look over her shoulder at Smalls and I. As soon as the door snicks shut behind her a hoard of questioning eyes and silent inquiries are directed towards us. I turn towards Smalls and he shrugs and gestures to the Team, silently assessing them, trying to decide who to choose to see Phillips first. I also turn and study them.
It has to be someone who won't be blinded by hatred and anger, but not someone too innocent like Timmy and Tommy. Finally my eyes settle on Kenny. He's the perfect person; he's more mellow than anyone else and won't be angry, and while he'll be shocked, he won't be completely freaked out by his injuries. I tilt my head and then I turn towards Smalls and I can see he's already looking at Kenny.
Discreetly, I gesture towards him, and Smalls nods and waves his hand towards Kenny. Kenny seems a bit hesitant but eventually he steps forward and follows Smalls around the bed, to where he can see Phillips face.
He doesn't seem to recognize him first, and I remember how it took Smalls and me awhile too, considering bruises are covering almost his entire face. I can see when it clicks in his mind though. His eyes widen and dart over his entire face as if he can't quite believe what he's seeing. He turns to me for confirmation and I nod slowly.
He catches sight of the impatient look on the rest of the guys' faces and says in a hoarse voice, "It's Phillips…"
Taa Daa! And there is my story that I may or may not have kept forgetting to type! I finally got it out for you guys! I would just like to thank everyone again for reading my story and telling me what you think! It really is an honor to be able to write on this website and get such awesome feedback.
*I may be the only one, but whenever I hear the word "perspective" I think of Ratatouille (the movie). Does anyone else do that?
By the way, HAPPY PIE DAY AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALBERT EINSTEIN! Also, I would really like to hear what you guys think should happen next. I'm not really sure where I'm going with this, so I kinda need suggestions. If someone has an idea that I really like, I'll dedicate a chapter to them give them a sneak peek, so have fun!
That's really all I have to say, so... Bye!