Phoenix Crucillo, 12 (Los Angeles, CA) The Early Bird May Catch the Worm, but It’s Never Too Late to Get into the Game Phoenix Crucillo, 12 It was the day our baseball team had worked so hard for—the Little League Championship Game. Over the last four months, twenty teams had competed vigorously to earn one of two coveted spots for the championship game. And I was on one of those teams — the Braves! It was the bottom of the ninth inning, and our team was down by one run with two outs and the bases loaded. It was now my turn to bat. The sun scorched its hot rays down my back. My thick mask itched, and I longed to rub my nose on one of the long sleeves I wore underneath my jersey. Still, none of these irritations came close to the unease I felt as I walked up to the plate. I took a deep breath before crouching into my batting stance. My heart pounded through my chest. After studying the catcher’s signs carefully, the pitcher nodded in acknowledgement of their secret language. Just then, the pitcher adjusted his grip on the seams, lifted his front leg, and released the ball…. … If someone had told me four months earlier that I’d be playing in the championship, I wouldn’t have believed them. I’d never played baseball before. It all started one seemingly ordinary day…. After a long day of school, I waited for my mom to pick me up. All the other kids had already gone. “Um, should I call my mom?” I asked my teacher. “If you feel the need,” he smirked. Just then, she pulled up. I stuffed my belongings in the car, eager to go home and relax with my favorite video game before tackling my homework. Just as I was getting comfortable, she spoke the words that would change my life. “I signed you up for a baseball team,” she said nonchalantly. “Your soccer season doesn’t start until spring, so I thought you might enjoy another sport in the meantime.” “But Mom, I don’t want to go! Kids in that league have been playing their whole lives! It’s not a place for beginners like me! It’s too hard to start playing a new sport like this. Like you always say, ‘the early bird catches the worm,’ so starting baseball at twelve years old will make me the early worm… who’ll get eaten!” She chuckled and just kept driving to the baseball field. I knew it was useless to protest, so I surrendered to my fate. As we pulled up to the field, I saw something that shocked me like a horror movie. The players were warming up on a massively daunting field, talking and laughing as if they’d known each other all their lives. Oh no, they already know each other. Now I’m never going to make friends. And this field is so gigantic! How am I ever going to play on this?! “Alright!” yelled the coach in a southern accent. “Let’s all sit down in a circle and introduce ourselves.” “I’m Phoenix,” I said meekly. No one else needed an introduction. They all knew each other. Just as I thought. Time for fielding practice. I didn’t even know what that was, but I followed along. “Alright. The drill is simple. Get the ground ball I hit to you and throw to first base. Once you’re done, get back in line and wait until it’s your turn again,” Coach instructed. Like a chameleon, I stood in the middle of the line in a feeble attempt not to stand out as a beginner. The first player fielded the ball flawlessly and threw it like a dart to the first baseman. Each of my teammates fielded Coach’s hits with precision. Obviously, they had been playing this game for many years. Now it was my turn. I tried to pick up the ball that Coach hit my way, but I completely failed. “Coach, may I have another one?” I yelled so he could hear. “Sure thing,” he said as he hit a ground ball softer off his wood bat. I picked it up, almost stumbling, and threw it too far to the right of the first baseman. Oh, no! I’ll never make it! “Hey, are you new?” one of the bigger kids asked me. “Yeah, why?” “Oh, that’s why,” he mumbled to himself. My heart sank. “Okay now, next are fly balls. So go into the outfield and wait,” Coach instructed. Within minutes, a fly ball came soaring straight at me. Oh, no! Could this day get any worse? There’s no way I’m going to catch this, I thought as I raised my open glove into the air. Thud! I looked into my glove, where, to my astonishment, I saw the ball tucked away in the supple brown leather. Yeeeessss! Maybe I’m not so terrible after all. “Team, meet our new outfielder!” Coach proclaimed enthusiastically. His words magically erased my teammate’s earlier comment. A few weeks later, it was time for our first game. I felt so unprepared. Mom dropped me off at the batting cages, where I watched each of my teammates hit every ball pitched to them. Now, it was my turn. As hard as I focused, the pitches roared past me. There was something about these pitches that made them impossible to connect with. I felt lucky to hit a couple of balls. “Okay, that’s enough warm-up. It’s game time,” Coach yelled. One by one, we eagerly entered the dugout like a line of army ants ready for duty. Suddenly, Coach called out the batting lineup. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and I suddenly broke out into a cold sweat when he called my name last. “Why am I last?” I asked. “I put you last because this is your first game. The other kids have more experience.” I listened, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the ground where they
Stone Soup Magazine for young readers, writers, and artists
Weekly Creativity #166: Write a Piece of Fan Fiction for a Story You Love, but Change a Background Detail
Write fan fiction for a story you love, but change a background detail, like the setting or time period.
A Vacation, an Idiom, and a Wedding, a short story by Joyce Hong, 11
Joyce Hong, 11 (Oakville, ON, Canada) A Vacation, an Idiom, and a Wedding Joyce Hong, 11 Todd slowly exhaled and pressed the button on the radio. Maybe there would be some song or some old nostalgic tune that would cheer him up for a bit. Allard was still at the university in some neuroscience graduate classes that Todd, graphic design major who’d graduated years ago, would never be able to understand. At least he had some time to himself before Allard would be coming back. The radio burped before letting out a few long, miserable notes: “Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead…” He smacked the button to change the song. “We don’t talk anymore, like we used to do…” Click. The radio belched once more. “You told me you love me, why did you leave me all alone…” “Cause my heart breaks a little when I hear your name…” “We go, breaking up like cell phones, when I speak—” Todd picked up the radio and promptly tossed it onto the floor. While it didn’t seem even remotely broken, the music did stop. Maybe there was something broken inside. Like how there was something broken inside Todd. He had to fix this. Because Allard was a good guy, and he didn’t do anything wrong, and Todd didn’t want to hurt him. And if Allard began to realize that Todd didn’t love him anymore—of course, he meant, if Allard began to believe, inaccurately, that Todd was falling out of love with him, Todd wasn’t sure what he would do with himself. Because then it would be his fault. So. He had to fix this. Now, the only question was how. “Sam, my man—” “I’m not your man.” Beep. “Melia, I need your help, my lobelia—” “Did you just compare me to a flower?” Beep. “Rowan McGowan, you must be knowing—” “That is a pathetic rhyme, and you know it.” Beep. “Rochel, don’t hang up!” A few moments of silence. Beep. “THIS IS NOT MY DAY!” Todd threw his head back, slamming the phone back on the holder. “Why is everyone being so—so annoying today?” Slumping down into the chair, the door creaked closed behind him even though he hadn’t opened it in the first place. As Todd spun around in his chair, Allard gave him a sweet, puzzled smile. It was the type of smile that used to make Todd weak at the knees. Cute, but it didn’t make his knees feel weak anymore. “I hope that everyone doesn’t include me.” Allard said, slinging his bag off his shoulder and dropping it onto the rug. Todd studied him in silence, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. Allard’s face was beginning to look increasingly concerned, his smile faltering a bit as he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves. “Todd? You alright?” Letting out a small, sharp laugh, Todd nodded vigorously. “Course, Ally. Course. Just… Everyone was hanging up on my calls. ALL OF THEM. Sam, Mel, Rowan, Rock. I haven’t even tried to call Bill yet, but I’m sure that he’ll hang up, too.” “Well, actually, I saw him at uni today, and he’s going to his fiancée’s brother’s place in Trinidad for their wedding! He was actually supposed to pack weeks before, but he’d procrastinated and now he’s really hurrying and hoping that Amanda won’t catch him. So, Bill probably won’t pick up at all!” Allard’s shoulders went back, his expression so innocent, so proud of just knowing this, but again, his smile faded quickly. “Well… I guess that didn’t help much.” “Well, you know, I’ve always told you that your optimism is infectious, hm, love?” Todd fell back into the chair. Going to his fiancée’s brother’s place in Trinidad… “And besides, speaking of going on a trip, I’ve decided to go on a vacation! Alone!” Todd slapped his thighs. “Whaddya say?” “Todd, it’s the middle of the year. And alone? Do you remember what happened last time?” Todd did remember what happened last time. Seven years ago, when Allard had been twenty, and Todd had been twenty-one, but still he remembered. How could he forget? “Todd, you’re not looking so good.” Allard gave him an adorably worried look. “You want to get off the boat before it starts?” Allard thought Todd didn’t see him, but Todd had been watching his every move as he’d glanced furtively at the speck that was Long Island. He was not going to ruin Allard’s birthday. “Nah,” Todd said, lifting his chin up. “I’ll be fine.” He was, of course, lying. His stomach lurched as the boat began to move. Involuntarily, Todd felt his hand grip the side of the boat tightly as his other hand threaded naturally between Allard’s fingers. He’d mentioned before that he got seasick, but… He. Was. Not. Going. To. Ruin. Allard’s. Birthday. “How long until we reach the island?” Todd said weakly. “Bout ‘one hour twenty minutes,’ I think they’d said,” responded the tall, spectacled girl sitting next to them. This was the girl that would eventually become one of their closest friends. Melia. She peered more closely at them. “You okay? You’re looking a bit green.” Todd smiled at her placidly, trying not to let himself seem too ill. He decided that not responding would be the best option because if he were to open his mouth, he was afraid he’d hurl immediately. Casting a sympathetic look at Todd, Allard squeezed his wrist, relieving a bit of the nausea. He’d remembered. Well, of course he’d remembered. Allard had always been the better boyfriend. Todd had just reached into his pocket for his seasickness medication and opened the box when the ferry rode over a high wave. Allard reached over, sweeping Todd’s hair away from his face as he yodeled out his lunch. “I’m sorry,” Todd said earnestly to the girl. In silence, she handed him a vomit bag that had seemingly spawned out of thin air. He took it
