Free Pack of Dorks by Beth Vrabel Page B

“April’s friend!” he yelled. I think that meant me. “Hi, April’s friend! Are you here to watch me play T-ball?”
    He kept right on yelling until he was right beside us. “It’s a type of baseball. I’m awesome at it. I might be the best baseballer ever. Is that why you came to the park? Because of how awesome I am at T-ball? Did April tell you?”
    Scrappy’s brown eyes were so big and so sure and so stinking happy that I wasn’t at all surprised when Dad said, “Yup. That’s exactly why we’re here.”
    “Knew it.” Scrappy nodded. “Mom,” he called over his shoulder to Mrs. Chester. “April’s friend and April’s friend’s parents and April’s friend’s baby are here to watch me play.” He skipped back to the field.
    Mrs. Chester laughed as she approached us. “You’ve absolutely made his day,” she said.
    Then came the moment we all dreaded. Mrs. Chester leaned over the stroller and looked at our Molly.
    “Good morning, precious!” she said, her voice just as happy, just as strong, as before. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
    Then she looked at Mom and Dad and said, “Congratulations on your baby girl!”
    I looked at Mom. She wasn’t working to be happy any more. Dad wrapped his arm around her and squeezed. To Mrs. Chester, he said, “Thank you. That means a lot to us.”
    Mrs. Chester nodded and ran a finger under Molly’s soft chin. “April’s over on a blanket by the baseball diamond,” she said to me. “Why don’t you run on ahead while I talk baby with your folks?”
    I walked slowly, but too soon I was standing in front of April. She was sprawled out on the blanket, coloring book open in front of her and a bag of cheesy crackers spilled out beside her. I knew she saw me—I put a big shadow over the superhero she was coloring—but she didn’t look up. Just behind her, one of her brothers was lying flat on his back, sound asleep.
    “Hey,” I said. I folded my legs and sat crisscross-applesauce beside her.
    “Hey,” she murmured.
    “Is he okay?” I asked, pointing to her brother, whose drool was forming a little puddle beside his head.
    “Still trying allergy medicine,” she said. “We’re allergic to grass!”
    I took it as a good sign that she was back to yelling everything. Maybe she forgave me. April sneezed, and I quickly handed her a tissue from the box on the blanket. She smiled and wiped. Then April shifted a little to the side and moved the coloring book so the blank page was in front of me. She plopped a huge plastic bag of crayons between us. I lay beside her and picked up a crayon. “Thanks,” I said.
    April shrugged. “Scrappy’s up! He’s—”
    “Awesome?” I interrupted. “Yeah, he told me.”
    April giggled as Scrappy swung at the ball and twisted entirely around, missing it. He did the same thing three more times before finally knocking the ball a few feet in front of him. He ran full force and slid into first, even though no one was even trying to get him out. The other team’s players tackled each other to grab the ball. Soon I was giggling, too.
    It was a happy day.
    Until Becky showed up.

Chapter Nine

    “I’ve got to go,” I told April.
    I didn’t wait for her to answer, but just took off toward Mom and Dad, who were still talking with Mrs. Chester. I glanced back at April, feeling a little guilty about leaving like that, and caught her just in time in a whole-body sneeze. Becky was walking behind April’s blanket toward the baseball diamond next to where Scrappy was playing. Her pretty face puckered with disgust when April used a tissue to wipe whatever flew from her nose off the blanket.
    My eyes tracked Becky as she sauntered over to the other field. I shuddered—honestly shuddered—when I saw where she was headed. Tom was standing to the side of the diamond, watching a different game. I remembered then: he had an older brother who played Little League. Well, great. Maybe, if I was lucky, he hadn’t seen me. Maybe