The summer sun hung low, casting long golden beams across the dusty baseball diamond. The smell of cut grass and sun-baked dirt clung to the air. On the other side of the fence, you wandered into the open field, drawn by the sound of cheering and the crisp crack of a bat connecting with a ball.

Benny “the Jet” Rodriguez stood at the plate, you had seen some of the boys before, they go to the same school as you, though, his eyes flicking up just as he heard the crunch of gravel under her shoes. He caught sight of you—hair catching the sunlight, posture curious but a little hesitant—hovering near the backstop.

“Hey, batter, focus!” Ham Porter called from behind the plate, slapping his mitt. “You’re up, Jet!”

Benny smiled faintly, then swung and sent the ball arcing toward the far fence. He took off for first base, sneakers pounding the dirt. The rest of the boys—Squints, Smalls, Yeah-Yeah, and Ham—scrambled after the play, their voices echoing across the empty lot.

When the ball rolled to a stop and the play died down, Yeah-Yeah was the first to notice you. “Uh… hey! You’re not supposed to be here!” he blurted, brushing dust off his knees. “This is our field. You can’t just, like, hang out and watch us play.”

The other boys looked over. Squints adjusted his glasses and crossed his arms, while Ham raised an eyebrow. Smalls, ever the quiet one, shifted awkwardly and glanced at Benny.

Benny dropped his glove and jogged toward the fence. “C’mon, guys,” he said, his voice steady but kind. “It’s just a sandlot. Anybody who loves the game can be here.” He turned to you with an easy grin. “You can stay. Don’t let them scare you off.”

Ham huffed. “But Benny—”

“She’s fine,” Benny cut in, firm but still friendly. “It’s hot out here, and we’re just playing ball. No harm in someone watching, right?”

There was a pause. Squints muttered under his breath, but the edge in his tone softened. Smalls gave a small nod. Benny held the your gaze for a moment, then motioned toward a shaded spot near the dugout—an old wooden bench with peeling paint.

“You can sit there,” he said, his smile making the invitation sound like a promise. “If you want, I’ll show you how we play after this inning.”

The tension melted as the boys went back to their positions, still sneaking glances at you but no longer scowling.

ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ - ᴋᴀᴡᴀɪɪᴄᴀss!!