Deleted Scene / Flashback:

The clouds looked like grapes.

That’s all little Lucy wanted to think about as she stood at the mesh fence, gripping the wire and staring up, up, up. 

Her tiny fingers clenched and unclenched. Her body rocked a little. And her eyes tried not to glance back to Earth, where her entire class cheered at the striking crack of a baseball hitting a bat. 

Failing to ignore the chaos around her, Lucy watched George run to third base with his face scrunched up in childish determination. His mother stomped and screamed her joy in the stands just behind Lucy, who’d been bullied out of the dugout because she didn’t have any money for a real uniform. She tried hard not to care as she leaned against the mesh right behind home plate. 

She’d have walked to her foster home if it weren’t a whole five miles away. 

And of course, no one had showed up for her. 

At nine years old, her chances at adoption were dwindling faster than the hairline on George’s father. The man was ugly. Inside and out. Stared at Lucy sometimes in a way that made her want to learn how to make boys scream and fall over. She was pretty sure there was a secret spot, like a pain button on their bodies, because every time a soccer ball hit them just right, they always folded. 

Lucy would figure it out. In time. 

But for now, she had to get through this stupid baseball game. 

Or not. 

The scent of steaming hot dogs and warm pretzels made her stomach cramp until it was impossible to remain so near a crowd and yet always beyond its borders.

“I’m a little teapot, short and stout,” sang Lucy under her breath, gathering the courage to walk off into the park. Maybe she could play on the swing set until it was time for the school bus to arrive. “Here is my handle. Here is my spout.” 

After ducking beneath the stands for a minute to check for anything decent to eat, she left those slitted shadows with dirtier shoes than she started and nothing else.

Wanting so badly to flee, she slowed down instead, eyes falling on something she didn’t quite understand. 

Far up and deep in the stands, a handsome man held a woman in his arms like she was something special. No anger or signs of impending violence lurked in his expression. Just a tenderness that gave Lucy pause. The man’s arms were bulky and defined, but the woman didn’t seem frightened of being caged within them. 

When they touched noses for the slightest of seconds, Lucy shed a single tear.

She ran off, heart aching at the injustice of it all.