SCOTTY SMALLS TAPPED eagerly on the desk. occasionally, his head would snap back to look up at the clock. it was eighth period, first friday of the school year, and he had places to be.
the sandlot, of course.
benny had been the one to suggest the camp out to "celebrate" the return of school. ( ham had made several comments about how it was much more like a memorial for summer )
needless to say, the thought of being outside, feeling the warm californian sun against his pale skin would feel much nicer than this cramped air-conditioned building.
when the bell rang, the entire class scrambled towards the door. scotty attempted to do the same, but had gotten caught at the back of the pack.
by the time smalls was able to make it outside, bertram and and ham were sitting in their usual spots on the bus.
"...for the last time you pothead, drop it!" the hysterically shrill voice came from behind smalls - he didn't even have to think for a second to know that the voice belonged to ham.
"who you callin' pothead, porkie?!" bertram laughs, the snort-like laughter that leaves him make his pig-based insult to ham all the more ironic.
"hey, guys!" smalls finally decided to pipe up, gaining the attention of his friends.
"what's up, smalls? hey, tommy."
smalls glances over his shoulder. funny - he hadn't even seen or heard tommy. that kid really was like a shadow.
moments later, the older timmons brother, accompanied with Kenny, walked onto the bus. their conversation was primarily on the baseball team - yes, tryouts weren't until spring, but playground ball was year-round.
not to toot their own horn too much, but the sandlot kids were the best in the school. it wasn't a cocky declaration - it was a fact.
it was another couple of minutes before yeah-Yeah, squints, and benny boarded the bus, all laughing, squints' papers scattered everywhere.
smalls missed this. no extra people. just the eight of them.
at the last moment, about three or four eighth graders boarded the bus, and bertram and benny let out a loud groan.
not only were they jocks, but they were total jerks. they only were nice to benny, but that didn't exactly smooth things over with him. benny had the same hatred for them as everyone else.
he simply didn't stand for them to mock the holy hell out of his best friends, and then praise him like some sort of saint.
as soon as they sat down, their attention was on kenny. african-americans weren't very popular in san fernando during the 60s - there were only a handful of them that even went to the school, and kenny happened to be one of them. smalls remained quiet during the confrontation, along with kenny.
kenny's silence, however, was much more smug. the hurtful words seemed to just bounce right off of him, showing no effect, as his teammates proudly defended him. smalls' silence was largely in part to being a coward.
when they all finally left the bus, the group of boys could still be heard yelling at kenny as the bus pulled away, off down the street.
pointless chatter filled the silence, which wasn't necessarily silent, either. the sound of a distant lawn mower, or a dog barking, or the loud chirps of cicadas, it still reminded smalls of summer.
as smalls glances around, he noticed none of the other boys seemed to still be thinking about the bus incident. it didn't seem to have affected them.
only, the effects were noticeable later that night, when they actually began to play. kenny was nothing close to his usual performance. he'd walked about four guys, hit ham at one point, and barely even made it to first base when he batted.
but he wasn't the only one. everyone's game was a little off.
when the kids could no longer see the ball, they retreated into the treehouse.
smalls felt a hand on his shoulder before he began to scale the latter, and turned to see his best friend. benny wore his usual outfit - a flannel draped over a baseball tee, and jeans. the hand on his shoulder tightened, and benny's face revealed something that smalls wasn't used to.
benny was anxious.
"...about today, man..."
benny stood there with his hand placed on smalls' shoulder, the blonde looking up at him with such a childlike innocence. benny presses his lips tightly together, offering the smaller male a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, before he began to climb the ladder.
smalls stood there for a moment, at the bottom of the treehouse. there was just no way that he could ignore how strange his best friends were acting.
was there?
a/n: hey !! i️f you happen to be getting notifications for this book, i'm currently doing some MUCH NEEDED rewriting !!
i️ was not a fan of the way this book was written at all, and feel i️ have really matured as a writer, so hopefully i️ can do this fandom some justice again