Carnival Prizes and Curveballs

The baseball cap pulled low over my eyes wasn't doing its job. Every time Maya glanced my way from the bleachers, I felt my palm sweating against the aluminum bench like I'd been gripping it for nine innings instead of two.

"You gonna stare all day or actually swing?" Carlos called from the pitcher's mound, grinning like he knew exactly what was happening.

"Shut up," I muttered, adjusting my hat for the fiftieth time. The worst part? I wasn't even supposed to be here. I'd already told Coach I couldn't make practice because of—well, because of the goldfish.

The plastic bag containing "Sir Bubbles" (my seven-year-old sister's carnival prize from yesterday) sat behind the dugout, allegedly safe in the shade. I'd been tasked with fish-sitting duty, and somehow that responsibility had morphed into me showing up at practice anyway, because apparently I couldn't say no to either my sister or baseball.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Coach blew his whistle. "Alright, pack it up! Storm's moving in fast."

As the team scattered toward the dugout, I saw Maya heading toward the parking lot. This was it. The moment I'd been psyching myself up for since February. I jogged over, my heart doing that stupid flutter thing.

"Hey!" I called out. "You need a ride? My mom's picking me up and—"

Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating everything in this weird purple-white glow. Maya turned, and I forgot everything I'd planned to say.

"Actually," she said, smiling as the first raindrop hit my nose, "I was hoping you'd ask. But what's with the plastic bag behind the dugout?"

I froze. "You saw that?"

"Hard to miss." She laughed. "Is that... a goldfish?"

"Long story involving my sister and very questionable carnival games." I sighed. "Also, I'm pretty sure I just ruined any chance I had with you."

"Are you kidding?" She stepped closer as the rain started coming down for real. "That's literally the most genuine thing anyone's done all year. Most guys try way too hard to be cool. You're just out here protecting a fish named Sir Bubbles while playing baseball in a lightning storm."

"It's a solid life choice," I admitted, grinning now.

"Absolutely." She pulled her hood up. "So, about that ride?"