September 1992

“That was closer,” 12-year-old Lance Bass said as he jogged after the soccer ball that rolled across the field of patchy grass. He slowed to a walk as the ball stopped and he lifted it into his hand, using his arm to wipe the sweat off his forehead as the hot, Mississippi sun beat down on him. “You almost had it.”

“Almost doesn’ cut it, Lance-a-snot,” 10-year-old Annaleigh Carr said as she reached back to tighten her pigtails. Lance rolled his eyes at the nickname before he turned to face her, watching as she grabbed a section of her hair in both hands, pulling it apart, tightening the elastic band to her head. “Tryouts for the U11 team are this weekend an’—“

“You wanta ace them,” Lance finished for her. “I get it.” He bounced the soccer ball onto the grass before rolling it back towards his friend. “Anna, you need to relax.” Annaleigh lifted her foot to stomp down on the top of the soccer ball before tugging up her big white sock. It came up to her knee, almost covering the band aid on her shin. “You play better when ya relax.”

Annaleigh pursed her lips before planting her hands on her hips in the way that only Annaleigh could do; cocking out a hip in the process. She was only ten years old, but everyone knew her for the maturity she carried around with her. She definitely acted older than she actually was, which demanded people respect her, but a lot of the time, it only got her in trouble.

“You play better when ya relax,” she imitated him, wrinkling her nose, making her voice higher pitched.  

Lance chuckled slightly, shaking his head back and forth. “You know you do,” Lance replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “Come on, Anna, you know I’m not the best with this. It’s nothin’ like baseball.” He mimed pitching a baseball.

“I jus’ need ya to bring the ball back, that’s all,” Annaleigh replied, dropping her arms down to her sides. She pulled the corners of her lips down, her bottom lip. She tilted her head to the side, widening her eyes slightly. “Please, Lance? I’ll be your best friend.”

“You already are my best friend,” Lance pointed out to her.

“Ok…I’ll…pay for your ice cream at The Ole Miss,” Annaleigh said, tugging at the collar of the goalie jersey she was wearing. It was really big on her—dropping down to the end of her shorts—much like a lot of things as she was pretty small for her age. The pink and powder blue goalie jersey used to be his sister’s, Stacey, from when she was into the sport.

The Ole Miss was a diner in the center of Clinton. It was a landmark to those that lived in the city. Everybody was taken there; starting from when they were babies, to when they were allowed to go down to the diner by themselves, and then when they got older, they’d take their own families and the cycle would keep going.

The Ole Miss had been around for years and years, getting revamped every couple of years to keep up with the changing times. It had a friendly atmosphere and everyone that went there enough would eventually be known by name, keeping customers coming back. Not just for the service, but for the food.

The ice cream (sundaes, milkshakes, cones, bowls, ice cream sandwiches, floats, etc) had people coming from afar just to get a taste of it. Apart from that, they were famous for the Ole Miss Burger; Angus beef stuffed with chopped onions, cheese, and bacon, made to order with, potentially, anything you wanted on it topped with the diner’s special barbecue sauce.

“Ice cream and a brownie,” Lance replied. Annaleigh let out a huff of air and Lance put his hands up defensively. “Take it or leave it.”

“Shoot. Dad only gave me ten dollars to spend today,” Annaleigh sad, actually pouting this time around. Lance silently lifted his eyebrows and Annaleigh stomped her foot, making a whining noise of protest. “Fiiiine.” Lance finally smiled.

“Don’t get your feathers ruffled,” Lance said, clapping his hands together. “Keep your foot pointed and your knee locked this time.” Annaleigh lifted the soccer ball into her hands, spinning it between her fingers. “Come on, just plant your foot and kick with the other.”

Annaleigh nodded her head before backing up a few steps. Lance watched as a look of concentration crossed her face. She took a few steps forward, planted her left foot into the ground, stopping her from moving and dropped the ball in her hands. She swung her right left forward, locking her knee, pointing her foot, leaning back with the movement and kicked the ball with a loud pop. Lance tilted his head up, watching as the ball arched up into the air, before it bounced on the ground.

“That was the best one you’ve done,” Lance said with a wide smile, turning back to his friend. “You did it!”

“Yay, I did it!” Annaleigh cheered, punching her fists into the air. She laughed joyfully practically running in place. She let out a loud “woo hoo” spinning in a circle. “Finally. Now, help me with corner kicks.”

Lance groaned, tilting his head back. “We’ve been out here for hours,” he said, moving to go after the escaping soccer ball.

“Daddy says I have a better shot at being on the team if they see that I’m a well rounded player,” Annaleigh called back, her voice getting louder and louder the farther he walked away from her. “I just want to be on the team.”

“You’ll make the team, don’t worry,” Lance shouted back, grabbing the soccer ball. He tucked it under his arm as he made his way back over to her. “Let’s get goin’; I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse.” He put a hand on his shoulder, guiding her towards the sidewalk. “You’re going to tire yourself out.”

“I need some sugar,” Annaleigh said with a smile, licking her lips. “I’m fixin’ to get some ice cream! Mmm, mmm, mmm.” She reached into her sock, sliding her fingers past her shin guard, and pulled out a ten dollar bill, unfolding it, smoothing it out against her leg. “Ice cream. Ice cream.  Ice cream.”

Oh, sugar, Lance thought to himself, watching as his friend practically bounced as she walked down the side walk.

He didn’t know what would be worse; bringing her home exhausted and with a lack of energy or bringing her home with too much energy. He flung out his arm, catching her across the chest, stopping her from walking into the middle of the street as a truck roared through the intersection. Annaleigh hummed to herself, rocking from side to side as she waited for the car to pass.

“You probably don’t need the ice cream,” Lance joked, gently shoving her shoulder before stepping off the sidewalk. “You’re already so hyper.”

“You’re mean,” Annaleigh replied, frowning before sticking her tongue out at him. Lance stuck his tongue out at her in reply. Annaleigh then stuck her nose in the air letting out a “humph!” as she did so. She crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her fingers against her arm.

“Finally, some peace and quiet,” Lance muttered, glancing over at Annaleigh out of her corner of his eyes. Annaleigh gasped, her jaw dropping before a deep frown came to her face.

“Stop being mean,” Annaleigh said to him, waving the dollar bill by her neck, trying to get some cool air. “I’m paying for your ice cream.”

“I was kidding,” Lance replied, with a sigh before putting his arm around her shoulder. “You’re so gullible.”

“No, I’m not,” Annaleigh replied, pushing his hand off of her shoulder. She then paused and peered up at him. Her eyes held confusion and worry in them. “…What does that mean?”

“Never mind,” Lance replied. They came up to the diner minutes later and Lance pulled the door open for her, ushering her inside. He sighed as a blast of cool air shot past his body, pulling at his clothes, cooling the sweat that dripped down the back of his neck and down his back.

“Hey, Mr. Bass, Miss Carr,” the man behind the cash register called, giving the two of them a smile. “Nice to see you two, again.”

“HI, Mr. McIntire,” Lance said as Annaleigh grabbed his hand with her own small one, pulling him down the aisle between the seats at the counter and the tables. She dragged him over to the counter and quickly climbed up onto a chair. Lance set the soccer ball under his arm down onto the floor before he climbed up into the chair next to him. “How are you today?”

“Mighty fine, sir, mighty fine,” Mr. McIntire replied with a smile as the cash register whirred before spitting out a receipt. He ripped it from the machine and handed it to the customer standing by the end of counter. “Y’all have a nice day.” He gave the customer a smile before coming down towards Lance and Annaleigh. “Y’all know what you want today?”

“Chocolate sundae,” Annaleigh replied and Lance gently elbowed her in the side. “Oh! Please.” She gave him a toothy smile, revealing the gaps in her teeth as she did so.

“Could I have a milkshake and a brownie, please?” Lance asked, folding his hands onto the counter top.

“Yes, you can,” Mr. McIntire replied, reaching into his apron pocket for a pad and pen.  “You both look like you need it, too. Were you out in the sun all day?”

“Mhm,” Lance replied with a nod of his head. “I was helping Anna prepare for soccer tryouts.”

“I’m trying out for the U11 team on Saturday,” Annaleigh replied with a nod of her head, kicking her legs back and forth. “Daddy says that I could play any, um, any position, but I like goalie and, um, forward the best.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll blow them away,” Mr. McIntire replied with a warm smile. “That’ll be $7.95 together or—“

“I’m payin’,” Annaleigh said, leaning forward. She rested an arm on the counter, using her other hand to wave the bill in Mr. McIntire’s face. “I have enough.” Mr. McIntire smiled as he took the ten dollar bill from her hands, making her way to the register. “Mmm, I can smell the chocolate syrup already.”

“You’re crazy,” Lance laughed. He reached for the napkin container nearest him and pulled one out, handing it to her before getting another one for himself.

“Excuse me.” Lance turned in his seat and gave the boy that stood behind him, a smile. “Sorry. We ran outta napkins at our table.” He jerked his thumb over to where he was sitting. Lance looked over to see a man and a woman talking quietly at the table he had left. “Can I have some of them?”

“Sure,” Lance replied, pushing the container towards him. His eyebrows knitted together, slightly. “I think I’ve seen you around school a few times. Do you go to Clinton Junior High?”

“Yeah,” the boy replied with a nod of his head and a smile. “I’m Darren Dale.” The boy offered his hand. “You’re James Bass, right?” Lance slowly nodded his head, the look of confusion on his face deepening before taking his hand, shaking it.

“He goes by Lance,” Annaleigh spoke up. Darren’s eyes shifted towards her slightly, and he gave her a smile before turning back towards Lance.

“Your mom teaches at VBS, right?” he pressed.

“Yes, she does,” Annaleigh replied with a nod of her head.

“That’s what I thought,” Darren replied. “I’ve seen ya ‘round school sometimes. Nice to meet ya.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Lance replied. “I’m Lance and this is my friend Annaleigh Carr.” Annaleigh lifted a hand in the air, shaking it back and forth in a wave.

“Hi,” Darren said to her. “Do you go to Clinton Junior High, too?”

“No,” Annaleigh replied with a shake of her head, her pig tails slapping her in the face. “I go to Northside Elementary. I’m ten.”

Darren’s eyebrows shot up, a look of surprise crossing his face before it disappeared. “I’m twelve,” he said.

“So’m I,” Lance said with a smile. “Hey, you were the one to sing the solo at the Christmas Showcase last year.” Darren’s smile widened slightly as he nodded his head. “That was really good. You’re really good.”

“Thanks,” Darren replied. “Do ya sing, too?”

“He sings in the bathroom a lot,” Annaleigh pointed out and Lance turned his head and shot her a small glare, a wave of heat washing over him.

“Not for any groups or anything…just for fun,” Lance replied and Darren gave a nod of his head. He gave Mr. McIntire a smile as he was handed his milkshake and brownie. “Thank ya, sir.”

“Thank you,” Annaleigh cooed, giving Mr. McIntire a bright smile before starting in on her ice cream.

“I’ve been looking for singers ta try and put together a small group,” Darren replied, drumming his fingers on the counter. “If you were interested. We could talk at church or something.” He looked back at Annaleigh. “Do you sing, too?”

“No, I like to dance,” Annaleigh replied, licking chocolate syrup from her spoon. She spun in her chair, pulling her cup of ice cream off the counter to face him. “And I play soccer. I can go ‘round the world; watch!”

“I don’t think you should do that,” Lance said to her. “You might knock somethin’ over, Anna.”

“But, I practiced,” Annaleigh protested, setting her ice cream cup onto the counter. Her plastic spoon clattered. “I can do it.” Lance put his face in his hand, shaking his head back and forth before watching as Annaleigh picked up the soccer ball.

She spun it in her hands a few times, mentally preparing herself. She tossed the ball towards her foot and she kicked the ball with the laces of her shoes, then bounced it off her knee, up off her shoulder, off her forehead…and the ball came crashing down onto her nose.

“Ohhhh,” Annaleigh groaned, grabbing her face, doubling over in pain.                        

“Are you ok?”  Lane asked, jumping to his feet. He grasped her wrists, trying to pull her hands away from her face, but she shook her head, tears coming to her eyes. Lance laughed quietly and she shot him a glare. “I’m sorry. First your mouth and then your nose? You’re such a klutz sometimes.”

“Am nooot,” Annaleigh whined; her words muffled behind her hands.

“Way ta go, Ace,” Darren said as he grabbed a handful of napkins. His words were said with a teasing air, but he had a smile on his face. Lance shot him a warning look before looking back over at Annaleigh, as if checking to see if she wouldn’t throw herself at the guy, ready to attack him.

“Are you ok, kid?” He held the napkins up to her face and she slowly removed her hands. Lance cringed when he saw the blood dripping out of Annaleigh’s nose, down past her upper lip and into her hands. She sniffed, nodding her head. “Don’t cry, you almost had it.”

“I practiced,” Annaleigh whimpered as he gently pressed the napkin up to her nose. “I shoulda been able ta do it.”

“Hey, relax,” Darren said, gently scrubbing at her nose. “You almost had it. It was looking good until right here.” He gave her a teasing smile as he used his free hand to tap at her forehead. “You’ll get it. Just keep practicin’.”

“She’s tryin’ out for the U11 team this weekend,” Lance explained, reaching for the bag of ice that Mr. McIntire handed to him. Darren removed his hand and he pressed the ice pack to her nose. Annaleigh winced as the cold object hit her face. “At least, this’ll show she’s not afraid ta be hit by the ball.”

“There you go!” Darren said with a smile. “You’re ok, right Ace?” Annaleigh nodded her head, all traces of her tears gone. Lance noticed that her face was bright red. Darren quickly tapped the bottom of her chin, giving her a toothy grin. “Good. Hey, I have a sister your age; name’s Jasmine, I think y’all’d get along well. She likes ta dance, too.”

He balled up the bloody napkins in his hands before shoving them into the front of his jeans pockets before turning to get some more napkins. “I better get goin’; I don’t wan ta keep my parents, waitin’,” he explained before smiling at the two of them. “Nice to meet y’all. Maybe I’ll see y’all at church?”

“Sure,” Lance replied with a nod of his head, holding the bag of ice up to Annaleigh’s face.

“Kay,” Annaleigh replied quietly, giving him a small smile. Darren gave a brief nod of his head before heading back towards his family. Annaleigh’s shoulders slumped as he left. “I can do ‘Around the World’.” Lance had to stop himself from smiling when he heard how nasally she sounded with her nostrils pressed shut due to the bag of ice. “I know I can.”

“So do I,” Lance replied, taking her hand, lifting it so she could grab the bag of ice, keeping it pressed to her nose. He grabbed her free arm and helped her back up into her seat. She smiled when she noticed Mr. McIntire was putting some cherries on top of her sundae.

“Cheer up, Anna, and good look at tryouts,” Mr. McIntire said before reaching out his big hand to pat the top of her head. “Keep your chin up.”

“Thank ya, kindly,” Annaleigh said as she reached for a cherry from the cup of partially melted ice cream. She popped it into her mouth, chewing it happily.

Lance stared at her, shaking his head in disbelief, wondering how she could’ve gone from being upset to happy in the time it took to put a cherry into her mouth. But, that was Anna; she could be just as tough as any guy out there, but she was still just a little kid.

“So, you’ve seen ‘im ‘round school but you never talked ta him?” she asked, loudly smacking her lips as she chewed on the cherry.

“Heard of ‘im a few times,” Lance replied with a shrug. “He’s an ace singer from what I’ve heard.” He brought the straw to his cup of milkshake to his mouth and slowly sucked on it, allowing the sweet dessert to slide across his tongue before he swallowed it. “Didn’ know he was puttin’ a singin’ group together though.”

Annaleigh made a humming sound as she went back to eating her ice cream. Lance set his cup down onto the table before he reached for the brownie on the table.