Locke in the Lot

I do not own the Sandlot

Scotty

Oh…that 'Smalls'.

Of course, I knew that I was dense—just not that dense.

Y'know?

I still don't understand why they call him 'Smalls'? I can understand that it's his surname, but doesn't it get annoying for a while? He didn't really seem to fit in with the other guys there, now that I think about it—Scotty looked far too nice to be friends with them. No, no, I'm not insulting any of them—it just seems odd. But hey, I guess Momma and Daddy weren't kidding when they said that friendship could happen between the most unlikely people. Then again, there is always that one guy in the group that just stands out to the crowd. Right?

"So, Marcia, how's the move so far?" Mrs. Smalls asked me as she continued to feed her youngest son, Johnnie, some mashed up carrots and potatoes. I looked up from my empty plate snapped back to reality.

"It's alright so far, but I think I still need to adjust to this place," I replied.

"Well, maybe tomorrow Scotty can show you around the Valley," she said as his eyes widened.

"Um…I…uh…can't. The Sandlot…and…yeah," he said, looking down at the ceramic plate.

"Maybe you can show Marcia the Sandlot, then. I'm sure the others wouldn't mind."

Sandlot?

"Oh no, it's fine, Mrs. Smalls. He doesn't have to show me around," I tried to convince her with a diffident smile.

That's when everybody stopped what they were doing and focused their attention on me. Damnit. What am I gonna do now? I ran out of excuses! Heck, I never even had any excuses in the first place!

"No, you don't," Daddy argued.

"Yes, I do," I bit back.

"No."

"Yes."

"No.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"Marcia, I'm your father. The two of us both know who's gonna win this argument."

"You're forfeiting already?"

The two of us looked at each other and snickered.

"You're still going out tomorrow, though," he said as he went back to his conversation with Mr. Smalls.

Damnit.

Dinner, from there, was all about smooth sailing. Nothing bad happened at that point. Nope, nothing suspicious. No, they don't keep corpses in their attic. Overall, they're good people. Sensible, well-mannered, and absolutely down-to-earth. Compared to the people in Brooklyn, these people may as well be saints or angels. They're just that hospitable! I can't believe it! Anyways, I guess it's safe to say that I'm not going to get mugged or tripped here. That's good.

At this pace, I think that the Valley is okay—let's just hope it stays that way.

Staring at the popcorn ceiling, I just can't sleep. I don't know why I can't sleep. Is it because of the move? No, it can't be. Is it because Momma and Daddy are trying to make me happy? Maybe, but I think they're being a bit pushy about it. Is it because I'm scared? Shit. I'm so screwed.

I understand and know the concepts of blending in with the crowd. That's why I'm afraid. I know the crowds back in Brooklyn. I don't know the crowds here. Brooklyn had the streets I knew, but the Valley is a completely different story. I shouldn't be moping around about being sad, but this is just a phase. I'm a teenager, I go through phases all the time. Mood swings and all, I've conquered it. This whole phase of blending in is probably just a figment of my imagination. Maybe I'm not supposed to blend in. Maybe I'm supposed to walk in the middle of the halls for once in my life and just enjoy it.

Then again, it's a first.

I've never been one to think about things like this. After all, I never really did have a social life. I wasn't really allowed to have one. I guess. Well, I didn't allow myself to have one. Momma and Daddy just agreed with me. None of us wanted to pop it. It was a tad bit too risky. So why start to think of my social like that? I'll start off small. One friend. Just one. And then I'll have a social life.

Hey, it's a first.

I'm still wide awake. These thin sheets have never felt so warm and comforting. Silence blanketing the Valley. Stars lighting the navy blue sky, and the moon glowing. It was odd. I've never really noticed this before. It's only now that I've welcomed it, and I can't help but feel cleansed. Back in Brooklyn, it was all about smog, darkness, and everything loud. But damn. I don't know why, but I really miss it. I guess this is just a phase. After all, this is what happens to all people that move, right?

I should sleep. I'm going to sleep. I need to sleep.

He had insisted that I bring the clipboard.

Who did he think he was? If he wanted to see what he'll work with during the camp, why can't he do it? Why me?

Oh yeah, he's Daddy.

"So, you're from Brooklyn?" I snapped out of my mental rant and looked back at Scotty.

"Yep, born and raised," I replied as we began to walk away from the cracked sidewalk and to the dirt pathway.

"I can't imagine having to move all the way across the country. Then again, I moved in from the north, so I kind of know how difficult it was to move to completely different place."

"Are you sure about this, though?"

"'Course, your dad is hosting the camp this year, right?"

"Yeah, and if they see that he's good enough, they'll promote him to be the coach for both teams."

"He's really amazing y'know. All the guys keep on talkin' 'bout him on the Sandlot."

"Just make sure you don't blow the secret, 'ight Scotty?"

"It's safe with me."

We continued walking until we ended up seeing this huge plot of land. The sight of dead grass and an impressive makeshift diamond with bags, a mound, and everything was right in front of me, and I couldn't help but give a little grin. It may not be Brooklyn—or even New York—material, but it was the fact that it was a diamond. And that was all that mattered.

"I'll tell you this though," he started, stopping his tracks to face me, "once we step onto the Sandlot, most likely the others are gonna start whining and complainin'. They're good people—it's just that they have a hard time adjusting to new people and change, so just give them a chance."

"Don't worry, it ain't like I'm going to show you all up and make fools out of all of you," I stated as I continued to stride on ahead with the plastic clipboard at hand.

"Wait. Wait. Wait a minute!" I heard him mutter under his breath.

Maybe this is the first.

A/N:

I can't tell you guys how sorry I am. I feel extremely guilty for not uploading, and it really is my fault. Well, summer homework isn't very pleasant, and I can't believe I've been procrastinating on everything. But yeah, that's pretty much my reason. So, sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. (I still can't believe I'm not done with the summer homework despite the fact that I've been CENTERING ALL OF MY ATTENTION ON IT. Sorry for the outburst. Heh. Don't worry, though, I'll try to balance everything out as much as I can!

And sorry if this isn't the quality of writing you were expecting. I'm never satisfied with my work, and I've been trying to re-write everything until it looked good. I just had to settle with this one because guilt was eating me. And this "chapter" is more of a filler, if yuh know whud i mean. And Marcia seems a bit more Mary-Sue much to my dismay, but hey, let's just say that the next chapter is pretty much going to be the one of the best chapters that will be in this story. That's all I'm gonna say for the next chapter. Yay.

Don't forget to review!

And that's it—FOR NOW.