Chapter One: You Play Like A Girl

I own nothing.

Quit. Shy. Unnoiticible. Three words that describe me perfectly. Despite my brother being a majoirly popular baseball player I am invisible. No one even knows we're related. Which in some cases can be a good thing. Don't get me wrong I love my brother, but there are times when he can be a real jerk.

"Sammantha get your lazy but out of bed!" like now for intense. It's a nice peaceful morning and yet Phillips as to ruin it by yelling and pounding on my door. "Sammantha! did you hear me?!"

"I'm up! I'm up, jeesh," I said getting up from my desk. I've been up for about two hours. I'm always up before Phillips.

Crossing my room I opened my door, "Good morning to you too Phillips! How are we this fine morning? Perfect weather for baseball don't you think?" my voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Shut up and get dressed," Phillips said before heading down the stairs.

"Well aren't we a bucket full of sunshine this morning?" I said to myself before closing my door.

Sighing I walked over to my closet. There wasn't much to chose from. I'm not really the girly type. Anyway deciding it doesn't really matter what I wear I pulled on a pair of old blue jeans and my Los Angeles Dodgers shirt. Not really caring what my sandy blond hair looks like I pulled it into a ponytail, leaving my bangs to fall into my blue-green eyes.

Deciding I looked good enough I walked out of my roon and down the stairs. Entering the kitchen I found Phillips sitting at the table eating.

"Don't you have some big baseball thing today?" I asked rembering what he had said about yet another game with the Sandlot Boys. This as been going on for as long as I can rember. It always starts the same way, someone tells someone else that they play like a girl and then they agree on some big game that means absoultly nothing.

"What's it to you?" Phillips asked through a mouth full of food.

"Attrictive Phillip," I told him using his least favorite nickname.

Phillips just smirked as he put his bowl in the sink. I grabbed an apple from the counter as he leaned against it.

"Going to come watch me kick some Sandlot ass?" he asked causally watching me.

I took a bite from the apple, "Do I have a choice?" That's the one thing I hate about these games Phillips always dragges me along. He shook his head. "Where's it at?"

"Sandlot," he said pushing himself off the counter and head for the door, "You coming?"

Knowing I didn't have a chance I through away the core of the apple and followed Phillips out the door.

Phillips, the rest of his team, and I arrived on the Sandlot where the Sandlot Boys were already praticing. Like always the Sandlot Boys leader, Benny Rodriguez, stopped their partice and head towards Phillips and his gang. Once the Sandlot Boys reached my brother Ham stepped forward. Over the years I've learned all their names, well nicknames.

"Who's she?" Ham asked pointing in my direction.

"Yeah yeah who's she?" Yeah-Yeah asked.

"Our cheer leader," Phillips smirked.

Rolling my eyes I leaned against my bike, but didn't say anything.

"There's no girls allowed on the Sandlot," Ham but all yelled.

"Hasn't stopped her before," I just sighed. I know exactly what's coming next.

And boy was I right. Back and forth back anfd forth they through insults at each other. Everyone yelled at each other. Excapt Benny. He stayed abousltly quit. He just stood their watching me. It made me uncomfortable. No one has ever just staired at me before. So I staired back. Our eyes lock and I swear I saw him swallow. Then his eyes traveled up and down my body like he was checking me out.

Whoa! wait pause and rewind. Did Benny Rodriguez just check me out?

"You play like a girl!" there it was again that insult.

Breaking my gaze from Benny I lashed out. "How the hell is that an insult?!" every head snapped in my direction. Okay I'm kind of wishing I would kept my mouth shut. I don't like it when people stair at me. It makes me uncomfortable.

"Because it's physically impossible for a girl to play baseball," Ham answered like only he would. I raised an eyebrow waiting for him to go on. "Everyone knows a girl can't hit or catch a ball. It's impossible for them to do so. I bet there's not a girl alive who could name the greastest baseball player of all time."

"Babe Ruth," I said.

"What?" Ham asked dumbstruck.

"Babe Ruth," I repeated, "The Great Bambino. The Big Ham. Jidge. Behemoth of Bust. Sultan of Swat. Shall I go on?"

Every mouth just about dropped. I guess they really didn't think a girl would know who Babe Ruth was. Damn guys are thick. That or just plain stupid. Ham, who was the first to recover (even through he was the one who said it in the first place), opened his mouth to say something. But Benny cut him off.

"Let's just play some ball," with that I was left to watch.