𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒊𝒙𝒕𝒚-𝑻𝒘𝒐 | b. rodriguez

the stripes are stripped

After rounding the fence I walked home from the Sandlot not knowing I actually wanted the guys to follow me. I wanted them to apologize, and promise to never say something stupidly sexist ever again. To never use the phrase "like a girl" ever again. I knew they knew I was good. I knew they were raised to think that girls couldn't do things as well as a man could, but I was still mad that by now they still couldn't realize it wasn't true.

And Benny– what the hell was wrong with him? He's usually the most understanding, aside from Scott. The first day at the Sandlot– the day I caught that ball– he stood up for me. He gave me a chance to play. Scott, too.

I thought he thought I was good.

I thought I was good..

Wait a sec– I am good. This is stupid. They're wrong. Girls don't suck at stuff.

Guys suck.

I was angry. The kind of angry you get when you can't believe something so stupid could've even happened. But in my heart, I had a gut-wrenching pain that ached from the deepest parts of my body and I didn't feel like going home. I didn't want to go anywhere I wanted to disappear.

Halfway down the long street where I could almost see my house in the distance, Benny's across from it I started to cry. I stopped walking and stood quiet for a second. Then a small, yet defiant growl escaped my throat and I felt the need to hide. Quickly I spotted a climbable looking tree and ran to it. Then I began my ascension not being too careful to keep from slipping. Managing to scrape my arm in the process, I made it halfway to the top of the tree and sat there on a branch. The July leaves hid me from the street and all I could see almost-clearly was straight down at the grass, and a little of the sidewalk next to it.

I stayed in that tree with my back resting against the trunk for quite some time. Probably almost an hour. Then I felt a little too childish so I decided to climb down. The descent went much smoother than the climbing up part.

(I'm sorry, I feel like this chapter sucks so far and I don't know how to fix it)

You should go back.

"Shut up," I mumbled back to my conscious out loud.

Nevertheless, I sighed and headed back for the Sandlot anyhow. As I rounded the corner I stopped and watched the guys for a while. They were playing our never-ending game just like they were before the stupid Tigers showed up on our field.

They were playing hard, probably practicing for tomorrow's big game. Every time the ball cracked against the bat I felt the urge to run onto the field and join in.

Ugh.

Some of the guys noticed I was standing there. Scotty waved at me from the outfield, Kenny nodded. Ham didn't notice me, somehow. He was the umpire – he should've noticed everything. As Benny stepped up to the plate his gaze caught my eyes. His seemed sad, and guilty, as if he was asking me for forgiveness from across the field. When he nodded at me I knew what he meant.

Kenny stepped up and threw through the pitching motion. Benny's eyes were on the ball then, and when the bat made direct connection with it the ball cracked through the air, high over everyone's head. Just like that first day we'd all met at the Sandlot, the ball was headed right for me, and just like that first day, I stepped forward, reached out, and caught it.

Only instead of throwing the ball back, I took it out of my glove, and held it in my right hand, looking at it.

It's seams were no longer bright red like they were when we'd all gotten it yesterday after pitching in a few cents. It was dusty, and beaten, but it was a baseball, and since I loved baseball, I thought it was beautiful.