The world remained completely frozen. It remained completely frozen for a few more minutes, but the cold never bothered it anyway. Maybe that was because of global warming. Anyways, although they should have been observing Kyle at the office, Mr. Pony meandered their way onto the center of the kickball field, before looking downward somewhat embarrassedly.

"When I was, a young boy," began Mr. Pony, "my father... sometimes let me, uh, consume dessert after dinner." They put a comical amount of emphasis on the 'u' noise in the word 'consume'. "But when I went online, strangers on the internet would always tell me that eating dessert was gay." Suddenly, Mr. Pony's expression became irate and they raised one arm dramatically, as if they were waving. "Well, I say that's a buncha bologna! There's nothing gay about wanting dessert, and even if there was, that wouldn't be an issue, cuz there's nothing wrong with being gay!" It sure was important to have a teacher that was accepting of all of their students, no matter who they might be attracted to. Mr. Pony put their hands on their stomach. "Live your best life, gorl! Treat yo'self before you eat yo'self!" They returned to normal, or at least as normal as Mr. Pony could be.

"But anyways, my favorite dessert to eat was always… uh, scrawberry ice cream!" Mr. Pony looked down embarrassedly again. "but whenever the ice cream was fresh out the freezer, it was always too hard for me to scoop out! So my father let me put the ice cream scooper in the microwave to heat it up!" Somewhere, in the distance, the voice of a very large man could be heard bellowing "WHAAAAT?!"

"Yeah," continued Mr. Pony, doing the little irate half-wave again. "The microwave was all like 'skrra! Wa pa pa pa pop! Skiddy-be pop pop! And a doot-doot-do-do-do-doot! It almost sounded like that one kid in the first grade class! But when I took it out, it'd be all nice a toasty warm, just like clothes fresh out the dryer or paper fresh out the printer." Mr. Pony's hands returned to their stomach. "And with that, I was free to scoop that scrawberry ice cream to my little heart's content! There was only one problem." Mr. Pony looked downwards embarrassedly one final time. "I'm… lactose intolerant."

After allowing a few seconds for their words to sink in, like lotion to dry skin, Mr. Pony simply remarked "Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk," before wordlessly striding off the field and back towards the office.

Slowly… ever so slowly… Time began moving again. His bulging biceps and pectoral muscles flexed underneath his thin blue pegasus t-shirt, his veiny calves contracted and expanded to propel his croc-clad feet off of the concrete pavement, and his black mesh snapback fluttered off of his short, curly hair topping off beady eyes covered by sunglasses. But this wasn't a story about a personification of time. This was a story about Randy. And that boy in question's left foot thoomed onto the loamy field as his right one connected with the DeVoit kickball. It was retrieved by Jeremy, but Randy was able to make it to first base safely.

Next up was Jenny, who was able to kick the ball to the outfield behind third base, but unfortunately Kathleen was able to run back and catch it in mid-air. We were now tied at 3-3. Randy retreated back to first base.

"It's okay, Jenny," Kristy reassured her as she returned to the back of the line. "Next time, just pretend that the ball is somebody you really don't like, and you'll kick it further."

"Yes ma'am," responded Jenny immediately, as if it were a conditioned response, before adding "So… just pretend it's Randy?"

"If you want," laughed Kristy as she stepped up to home plate. "I always just pretend it's a spooooky ghost."

Jordan rolled the ball towards her and she kicked it as if it was a ghost, and she was busting it. This time the ball went behind first base, but was caught mid-air by Jeremy. Darn, they were shutting us down pretty hard. Fourth up was Jacques. Using his long legs, he was able to kick the ball fairly far, right down the middle like the arrow of a compass. Jordan reflexively jumped out of the way rather than trying to catch it, leaving Eli, the second baseman, to attempt what his peers had already done. However, he fumbled the ball and it ricocheted off his helmet. He chased it for a few feet and was able to return to second base shortly after Randy arrived there. Randy and Jacques were both safe, for now at least. Next up was William, or as the Spanish would call him, Guillermo. Using the apparent foot-eye coordination that he had developed from playing so many video games, he kicked the ball as it was rolled to him by Jordan. Thankfully, he kicked a grounder, so there was no chance of it being caught in mid-air. By the time Kathleen picked it up, the bases were loaded. Skylar was the next person up, but I had an idea.

"Hold on," I said. "Skylar, can I go next instead of you? I have a plan that can help our team win."

She looked surprised for a second. "You really think so?" Then her eyes closed and her mouth spread into a wide grin. "Alright then, be my guest, Maddie. Just let me record it for my TikTok."

I stepped up to the home plate like a rhinoceros. Here, in this field, facing down none other than Jordan, I was about to put my grand plan into action. I was about to overcome all odds and prove to the rest of the class, to myself, and to whoever else I felt like I needed to prove it to that I was the protagonist of my own story, and not just Skylar's TikTok. This was my time, this was my moment.

Intimidated by my confidence, but hopefully in a good way, Jordan hesitantly rolled the DeVoit kickball towards me. Without missing a beat, I took a running start, and just as my left foot thoomed into the loamy ground, I executed my secret plan. I slowed down just in time and kicked the ball lightly. It went forward about three feet and I took off running like a bullet. My thought process was that if kicking it far on the left side meant that Kathleen would catch it, and the right side had a risk of Jeremy catching it, the only move was to weak-kick it to buy some time.

Jordan realized what I had done and rushed forward as I ran towards first base. There was no time to look back. I had made my decision. Wait… decision? I started thinking, which caused me to slow down. The Lucky Penny burned in my pocket.

"No!" I thought, pulling the Lucky Penny out at once. How could I have decided to do that without using the Lucky Penny? Julia, who was at first base, looked at me curiously. I had stopped running, but in the meantime Jordan had intercepted Randy before he had made it to home base. This meant that Jordan's team was winning 5-3.

Before the next round could begin, a cheerful voice cut through all of the kindergarten khaos. "Okay, buckaroos, that's enough for now!" Mr. Pony strode back onto the edge of the field, having returned from the office. "You lot are lucky, recess lasted a bit longer than usual today. But it's time to line up behind Jordan and go back to class!"

"Mr. Pony! Is Kyle okay?" asked Kathleen as she jogged back from the outfield.

"No need to worry; Kyle is fine," confirmed Mr. Pony, "but he won't be joining us for the rest of our activities today. I've called his parents, and they'll be taking him home early from school."

I wasn't sure whether to fell jealous of Kyle or not. Sure, he got to go home early, but I still kinda wanted to stay at school with my friends too. As I filed into line between Kiki and Jacques, the implications of my grand plan weighed heavily on me. Not only had I left my own team capitan, Randy, out to dry while trying to pursue my own selfish agenda, which is a schedule for music, I had tried to take matters into my own hands – er, feet – rather than let Skylar kick, and because of that, my team lost. This was all because I didn't use the Lucky Penny to make that decision, of that I was sure. I felt like I had let everyone down.

I was so self-absorbed in my thoughts that before I knew it, we were back in the front yard of the Kindergarten building. However, there was one upside to me looking at the ground the whole time while feeling down – I was able to find a quarter on the ground. I thought it would probably come in handy at some point in the near future, so I put it in my pocket with the two chips, Lucky Penny, and plastic shovel.

One by one, my classmates entered the building. A scrange wave of apprehension washed over me. What was going to happen next? Was Kyle actually okay? Would the rest of us be okay? My head hurt just thinking about these questions. I shivered as I set foot inside the building, my destination unknown. Just kidding, we were just headed back to the classroom, right?