The cafeteria at Oakridge Academy was always loud, but on this particular Monday in the spring of 1993, there was only one topic of conversation.
Over the weekend, during the commercial break of a highly anticipated *X-Men* cartoon episode, the first national TV trailer for *The Sandlot* had officially dropped.
Donovan, now eleven years old, sat at his usual lunch table, calmly eating a slice of pizza. He was trying his best to have a normal day, but every time a kid walked past their table, they would stop, point, and whisper.
"I'm telling you, it was me!" Chris Evans said loudly, leaning across the table and accidentally knocking over a milk carton. "Right after the scene where the giant dog barks, the camera pans to the rival team. You can clearly see my left elbow for like, half a second. I'm practically a movie star now."
Jake Gyllenhaal rolled his eyes, catching the milk carton before it spilled everywhere. "Boston, you were a blurry smudge in the background. My character actually ran across the screen. My mom recorded it on VHS and paused it."
"A smudge with incredible screen presence," Chris corrected him, grinning wildly. "When do we get to see the whole movie, Donnie?"
"The premiere is in a few weeks," Donovan said, wiping his hands with a napkin. "My mom says the studio is really happy with the final cut."
"Well, my dad says it looks incredibly stupid."
The three boys looked up.
Leo Vance was standing next to their table. He hadn't changed much in the last year, except he had grown a little taller and his sneer had gotten a bit more annoying. He was holding his expensive lunchbox like it was a trophy.
"I saw the commercial," Leo smirked, looking directly at Donovan. "You look like a massive dork in those thick glasses, Blackwood. My dad says movies about kids playing baseball never make any real money. It's probably going to flop."
Chris immediately stood up from his chair, his golden retriever energy instantly shifting from 'happy puppy' to 'guard dog.'
"Shut up, Leo," Chris snapped, puffing out his chest. "Donovan is the main character! You're just mad because the only thing you've ever been in is trouble."
Jake snorted a laugh, eating a french fry. "Good one, Boston."
Leo's face turned slightly red. "Whatever. I'm just saying, it looks pathetic. You throw the ball like a girl in the commercial, Blackwood."
Donovan didn't stand up. He didn't use any magic to scare Leo. He didn't even raise his voice. He just looked up at Leo with the calm, exhausted patience of a tired adult dealing with a toddler.
"It's called acting, Leo," Donovan said plainly. He took a slow sip of his soda. "The character is supposed to be bad at baseball. I get paid a lot of money to pretend to be bad at baseball. How much are you getting paid to stand by my table and annoy me?"
Jake choked on his french fry, trying to hold in a massive laugh.
Leo opened his mouth to reply, but absolutely nothing came out. The complete lack of anger from Donovan completely destroyed his momentum. He couldn't fight back against someone who simply didn't care.
"That's what I thought," Donovan smiled politely. "Now, if you don't mind, Chris was just telling us about his elbow's incredible screen presence."
Leo scowled, his face burning red with embarrassment. He turned around and quickly walked away toward the other side of the cafeteria, desperate to escape the laughter from the nearby tables.
Chris sat back down, high-fiving Jake. "Man, you completely destroyed him! You didn't even have to yell!"
"Leo just wants attention," Donovan shrugged, returning to his pizza. "If you don't give it to him, he doesn't know what to do."
"So," Jake asked, leaning forward. "Are we going to celebrate the movie trailer this weekend? Maybe go to the Starlight Arcade?"
Donovan sighed, shaking his head. "I wish. But I can't this weekend."
"Why not?" Chris asked, looking genuinely disappointed. "Are you filming another movie?"
"No," Donovan replied, looking out the cafeteria window. "My dad is flying me out to Seattle on Saturday morning. Our software division, Rogue Entertainment, has been working on a video game project for the last few months. They sent over the first playable version yesterday."
"A video game?" Jake's eyes lit up. "Like Super Mario? Is it good?"
Donovan remembered the messy, glitchy, boring alpha footage he had watched in his dad's office the night before. It was a disaster. The programmers had completely missed the magic of the original concept.
"No," Donovan said flatly. "It's terrible. It's so bad it actually hurts to look at."
Chris gasped. "What are you going to do?"
Donovan finished the last bite of his pizza and grabbed his backpack as the lunch bell finally rang, echoing loudly through the cafeteria.
"I'm going to Seattle," Donovan said, a small, confident smile returning to his face. "And I'm going to teach a bunch of twenty-five-year-old programmers how to do their jobs."