Chapter 3- Little Miss Loser
The crack of a bat echoed across the softball field as Samantha St. Onge sprinted towards the chain-link fence. Her chest heaved, sweat beading on her forehead as she fumbled with the latch.
"Well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence."
Scarlett's saccharine voice cut through the air, freezing Sam in her tracks. The team gathered around home plate, all eyes on her.
"I-I'm sorry, I got held up at—"
"Save it, St. Onge," Coach Willis barked. "You're fifteen minutes late. Give me ten laps around the field. Now!"
Sam's shoulders slumped as she dropped her bag and started jogging. Scarlett's laughter rang out behind her.
"Better run faster, Four-Eyes. Maybe you'll actually catch a ball for once."
Maya's voice chimed in. "As if. She couldn't catch a cold if she tried."
Their giggles faded as Sam rounded the first corner, her legs burning. She blinked back tears, focusing on the rhythmic thud of her feet against the dirt.
By her third lap, the team had dispersed for warm-ups. Sam's lungs felt like they were on fire, her legs wobbly as noodles.
"Pick up the pace, St. Onge!" Coach Willis shouted. "You're holding up practice!"
Sam gritted her teeth, pushing herself harder. As she stumbled into her final lap, Scarlett and Maya jogged up beside her.
"Aww, is little Sammy getting tired?" Scarlett cooed. "Maybe if you spent less time hiding in the library and more time actually practicing, you wouldn't be such a disappointment."
Maya snickered. "Yeah, like reading's gonna help you catch a fly ball."
They peeled away, leaving Sam gasping for air as she finally finished her laps. She doubled over, hands on her knees, struggling to catch her breath.
"Alright, ladies!" Coach Willis's voice boomed. "Thanks to St. Onge's tardiness, we're behind schedule. Everyone give me fifty push-ups!"
A chorus of groans erupted from the team.
"Way to go, St. Loser," someone muttered.
Sam's face burned as she dropped to the ground, her arms shaking as she struggled through the push-ups.
"One... two... three..."
Coach Willis's count felt endless. Sam's arms gave out on push-up thirty-seven, her chin hitting the dirt.
"Get up, St. Onge! You're embarrassing yourself and your team!"
Tears stung Sam's eyes as she forced herself back up, arms trembling.
"Forty-eight... forty-nine... fifty! Alright, pair up for throwing drills!"
Sam's heart sank as the girls quickly partnered off, leaving her standing alone.
"Looks like you're the odd one out again, St. Onge," Scarlett smirked. "Guess you'll have to practice with the fence."
Hannah's voice cut through the laughter. "I'll partner with Sam, Coach!"
Relief washed over Sam as Hannah jogged over, giving her a reassuring smile.
"Thanks," Sam whispered.
"Always got your back," Hannah winked.
They spread out, tossing the ball back and forth. Sam's throws were shaky, but Hannah's encouragement helped steady her nerves.
"Nice catch!" Hannah called out as Sam snagged a high throw.
Scarlett's voice carried across the field. "Wow, Hannah. Lying to make her feel better? That's just sad."
"Ignore them," Hannah murmured. "You're doing great."
The rest of practice dragged on, a blur of drills and snide comments. By the time Coach Willis called them in, Sam felt utterly drained.
"Alright, ladies. Bring it in. We've got a big game coming up against the Fireball Eagles. If we win, we're headed to Florida for the championship."
Excited chatter broke out among the team.
"But," Coach continued, "we won't stand a chance if we keep having practices like today. St. Onge, your tardiness and poor performance are dragging this team down. Shape up, or you'll be warming the bench in Florida."
Sam's stomach twisted as snickers rippled through the group.
"As for the rest of you, I expect everyone here fifteen minutes early tomorrow. We'll be running extra drills to make up for lost time. Dismissed!"
The team dispersed, grumbling. Sam hung back, waiting for the crowd to thin before heading to the locker room.
"Hey, St. Onge!"
Sam tensed as Scarlett's voice rang out. She turned to see the blonde sauntering towards her, Maya in tow.
"Better start packing your sunscreen," Scarlett smirked. "You'll need it to protect your pasty skin while you're sitting on the bench in Florida."
Maya chimed in. "If she even makes it that far. Coach might leave her behind to save on airfare."
Their laughter echoed as they pushed past Sam, shoulders knocking her back.
"Don't listen to them," Hannah's voice came from behind. "You deserve to be on this team as much as anyone."
Sam sighed, shoulders slumping. "Do I? You heard Coach. I'm dragging everyone down."
"That's not true," Hannah insisted. "You just had an off day. It happens to everyone."
"Not to Scarlett," Sam muttered. "She's perfect."
Hannah scoffed. "Please. Scarlett's just as human as the rest of us. She makes mistakes too."
"Yeah, well, Coach doesn't seem to notice them."
"Because she's too busy kissing up to him," Hannah rolled her eyes. "Come on, let's hit the showers. I'll treat you to some ice cream after."
Sam managed a small smile. "Thanks, Hannah. I don't know what I'd do without you."
As they walked towards the locker room, Sam couldn't shake the weight of Coach's words. The thought of being left behind while the team went to Florida twisted her stomach into knots.
"Hey," Hannah nudged her. "Stop overthinking. We're going to crush the Fireball Eagles, and before you know it, we'll be soaking up the sun in Florida. Together."
Sam took a deep breath, trying to let Hannah's optimism wash over her. "You're right. I just need to focus and work harder."
"That's the spirit!" Hannah grinned. "Now, let's go get that ice cream. I'm thinking triple scoop with extra sprinkles."
As they entered the locker room, Sam felt a glimmer of hope. With Hannah by her side, maybe, just maybe, she could prove Coach and Scarlett wrong.
