hard knock life ◇ sandlot

✖ | chapter two

THE INSIDE OF the treehouse was filled with excited chatter. pointless things, like how their year was going so far, how much they missed summer, the smoking babes.

"the girls are all over me this year." yeah-yeah bragged, one of the most smug smirks across his face. ham bursts into a fit of laughter, shoving yeah-yeah over the side of the table. ham was so strong, and the gesture had been so abrupt, that yeah-yeah had doubled over the side of the table, hitting timmy in the face with his sneaker.

benny rolled his eyes at the whole routine, while the rest of the guys wheezed uncontrollably.

"yeah-yeah they are, you guys!" the male protested from the floor, struggling to make his voice heard over all the laughter.

"yeah, keep tellin' yourself that, mcclennan." ham snorted, returning to his prior conversation with bertram over a couple of baseball cards.

"oh, shit!" bertram suddenly exclaimed, smacking a hand to his head. smalls had seen that look before - and last time, he ended up hurling all over himself - and give or take a few others.  "i️ almost forgot!"

bertram scrambles over to his duffle bag he'd brought. smalls suddenly felt very queasy. bertram was far from a good influence. he pulled out an impressive stack of magazines - there must've been one for every guy.

at least.

ham's eyes suddenly grew wide, and the boys all were suddenly clawing on bertram, demanding for their edition. smalls felt his stomach churn. how in the hell had bertram managed to grab one - forget one, he had nine copies.

playboy magazines.

none of them had ever seen a single copy, and they now each held their very own. bertram certainly was the man of the night.

"timmy? tommy?"

the sudden voice of an adult woman startled every single boy, and the anxiously stuffed the magazines out of sight. timmy's attempt of acting natural ultimately failed.

"uh, y-yeah, mom?"

"yeah, mom?"

tommy's response at this point was natural. when mrs. timmons didn't answer, timmy shrugged, and retreated down the ladder. tommy followed close behind.

"...d'you think she knows?" smalls asked timidly, his voice slightly above a whisper. the remaining boys all hushed him. if she had, boy was he in a world of hurt.

"nah...think they prolly forgot to do a chore or sumthin'...they're goin' inside." benny answered, glancing away from the window. everyone simply brushed off the matter. the playboys could be temporarily postponed.

"...hey, ham?" smalls asked, his voice coming out much smaller than he had hoped. hamilton porter was an intimidating force, who could knock even the toughest kid flat with a single punch. no one in the neighborhood messed with him.

"what?" his reply, much like him, was short and gruff. all eyes were suddenly on him.

"...uh...what were you and bertram talking about...o-on the bus...?"

ham shot a glare to bertram.

bertram hadn't glanced up from his playboy, and it was difficult to tell if he was purposely ignoring ham, or if he'd chosen not to listen.

"...don't worry about it, smalls. doesn't concern you." bertram mumbled, flipping the page. bertram, like ham, was intimidating, but in a different sense. the difference? bertram was more...rugged. he didn't look like he could potentially ruin your life, but oh...you certainly couldn't judge this book by its cover.

"yeah...yeah. alright. uh...sorry." smalls' face turned a shade of red, and he seemed to sink slightly lower. even if these were his best friends, he still couldn't help but feel like the odd man out. even if the nine of them were outcasts.

smalls was the outcast among the outcast.