The bat hit the ball and sent it soaring into deep center field, right towards me.
By nature, my first instinct was to catch it. I moved over about a foot and extended my arm, reaching for the ball. I felt the adrenaline kick as the impact of the ball hit my glove.
Quickly, I took it out of my glove and pitched it towards the second baseman, who, despite having ginormous glasses, caught the ball.
Even though I'd acted fast, the dark haired boy had nearly reached first base. Gosh, he was fast. He, and everyone else - including Scotty - looked at me as if I had just grown ten feet tall. The boy with the glasses squinted at me, and everyone's mouth hung agape.
I looked at Scotty. "Why in God's name are they looking at me still?" I whispered.
"Youuuu're out!" the catcher called.
The boy I'd gotten out finally closed his mouth and his lips formed an amused grin. My stomach fluttered against my will when I realized he was the boy I'd seen walking across the street the other day.
The four-eyed kid smiled and started clapping his hand against his glove, obnoxiously.
"Whoo!" he cheered. "Holy cow," he said. Half the boys began applauding me.
I blushed a little and brushed some dust off my white shirt.
"Hey! Come over here," the red head demanded. I looked at Scotty who seemed hesitant to trust him. The freckle-faced boy waved me over to the field, and I decided to go along with it.
As I walked closer, Scotty rushed to catch up behind me. The other boys in the field came in closer to find out what the catcher was going to say.
The squinty-eyed boy nudged the dark-haired batter who's eyes were fixed on me. "Benny, she got you good," he cackled.
"Can it, Squints," the Benny guy said nudging him back.
"Yeah, yeah – she's good," said a boy with quiffed hair.
"Yeah, she's good – for a girl." The catcher spat at the ground, while glaring at me intimidatingly.
"For a girl?" Everyone turned to look at Benny. He glanced at me again before continuing. "Ham, she's probably got a better reaction time than you."
"Oooh," the boys hummed.
I felt my face heat up, and Scotty stepped up closer beside me.
"Yo, shorty," the catcher referred to Scotty. "You know this chick?" he asked, nodding at me.
"Yeah," Scotty replied, still wincing at the fact he got called "Shorty."
"She's my sister."
Immediately I felt a wave of regret at having caught the ball – surely I'd just blown Scotty's chance at making some friends for once.
I glared at the red head. "My brother's got a name, you know."
The boys "Ooooohed" me again.
"Sassy," someone said. "I like 'em like that," Squints laughed, and Benny nudged him again, so hard he nearly stumbled over. "Ouch! Benny, man, I was kiddin."
I maintained eye contact with the Catcher and he returned the look with a stone cold glare of his own. Without moving his gaze from my face he asked "Okay. What's your name then, Shorty?"
"Scotty. Smalls. Scotty Smalls."
Someone chuckled.
"Okay Smalls. Let's see what you've got." He turned to the guy with the glasses. "Squints, toss him the ball."
Scotty held out his glove in front of him, meekly.
"Okay," Squints replied, looking at Scotty. He tossed the ball at him underhandedly.
Not moving his hand, the ball somehow managed to land in Scotty's glove from about ten feet away.
The quiff kid chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, that was just sheer, dumb luck."
"Maybe, Alan. Maybe," the catcher replied, staring Scotty down.
Scotty gulped.
"Ham, let 'em be," Benny said.
Ham ignored him. "So, Smalls. Maybe you got lucky that time. Throw the ball here." He held open his catchers mitt, waiting for Scotty to throw the ball.
Scotty looked at me, and I froze. I had no idea what to do. He was going to have to try to throw it.
Don't be a goofus, I thought. Don't be a goofus.
Scotty removed the ball from his plastic glove, and held it in his hand. He was trying to position it in his hands as best he could, but no one had ever taught him you only hold the baseball with two fingers.
I looked to Benny, hoping he would do something. However all eyes were focused on Scotty, including his.
After what seemed like minutes, Scotty swung his whole arm and sort of just dropped the ball. I guess that was his attempt at throwing it?
"Oh my GOD!" Someone laughed.
"Did you see that HAND?!?"
My heart sank, and I could only imagine what my poor brother was feeling.
"Guys.. come on," Benny said. Give him a chance.
"The kid's an L-7 weenie!"
Laughter.
"Oscar Meyer, even!" someone added.
"Footlong!"
Next thing I knew, Scotty had turned and ran away.
My fists were clenched so tight my short nails dug into my palms.
I closed my jaw that hung open in anger.
Then I parted my lips to speak.
Then closed them, again.
It's not worth telling it to these jerks– clearly they're idiots. There'd be no point, Shaye..
Screw it.
I opened my mouth again and this time I let the words fly right out:
"Seriously?!!" I scoffed, stepping closer to the group of jackass boys. "You assholes just made my brother feel like shit! What the hell'd you have to say all those dumb ass things for?" I waited for a moment.
Stunned silence.
"Honestly, I understand if you can't hold back a laugh, fine, sure, he can't throw. But what makes you think it's okay to just- like- really? He's my brother and you hurt him. You hurt him, you hurt me. If you hurt me, I'll go off on you."
I was breathlessly enraged, but glad to release my anger. Some of the boys had smug grins on their faces, which pissed me off more."The girl's got a mouth," someone whispered, amused.
"Assholes.." I muttered.
I scowled at the stupid, evil red-head and stormed after my little brother.
I heard the hushed and stunned whispers as I turned the corner around the fence and ran home down my new street.
✱ ✱ ✱ ✱
Later that afternoon, Scotty went to bed with a swollen black eye. Bill chucked a ball at his face during his attempt to "teach" my brother to play catch.
Then, Bill had shoved the steak that was meant to be our dinner on his face – so much for a good steak. Why did Bill have to be such a hard ass?