Cable Knit Chaos

The ethernet cable lay tangled on my floor like a snake that gave up on life. I glared at it, willing it to fix itself, but apparently even my newly-discovered telepathy had limits.

"You're NOT gonna make varsity, bro," Marcus texted. I could practically hear the eyeroll. "Coach said you need to stop being so scrawny."

I sighed. My mom had started forcing me to take these nasty gummy vitamin things every morning because apparently I was 'deficient in everything according to TikTok doctors.' They tasted like artificial grape mixed with regret.

But the real issue? I was secretly trying out for baseball—a sport Marcus and his crew dominated like they owned the diamond. I'd been practicing my swing in the backyard every night, missing more balls than I hit, but getting better.

Then my dad, who apparently still lived in 2003, decided we needed to 'bond over family television time.' So here I was, running around the house trying to find a working coaxial cable because ours had mysteriously vanished. Probably the dog. The dog ate everything.

"Found it!" I yelled, dragging a dusty cable from behind the sofa. Coughed up a dust bunny the size of my fist.

Dad looked up from his phone, where he was definitely not watching TV but checking work emails. "Good job, champ. Now your sister can watch her show."

My sister, who was fifteen and had opinions about everything, rolled her eyes. "Ugh, finally. I'm literally dying of boredom here."

As I connected everything and the TV flickered to life, my phone buzzed. Marcus again.

"Actually, coach is holding open tryouts tomorrow. You should come."

My heart did this stupid flutter thing. I typed back, "Bet." Then immediately panicked because WHO SAYS THAT?

That night, as I lay in bed replaying every possible embarrassing scenario, I realized something: maybe being scrawny and taking gross vitamins and dealing with ancient cables and having a sister who used 'literally' wrong was all part of it. The messy middle part of growing up where nothing makes sense but somehow it's all leading somewhere.

I grabbed my baseball glove from the corner of my room. Smelled like worn leather and possibilities.

Tomorrow, I wouldn't just be watching from the sidelines anymore.