Chasing Sunsets

Marcus's cleats clicked against the pavement as he rounded third base, the baseball clutched tight in his sweaty palm. Practice had ended twenty minutes ago, but he was still here—still running drills while everyone else had already peeled off to grab food at the diner or head home to scroll through TikTok.

'You're still at it?'

He skidded to a halt, nearly tripping over his own feet. Maya stood by the dugout, leaning against the chain-link fence like she belonged there. Her hair was that impossible shade of orange—fiery, deliberate, unapologetic. She'd dyed it over spring break, and people had been whispering about it ever since.

'Just... extra practice,' Marcus managed, his breath coming in ragged bursts. 'Varsity tryouts are next week.'

Maya raised an eyebrow. 'You've been working on that slide into home for three weeks straight. I've been watching.' Something about the way she said it made his stomach do that weird flip thing. 'You're overthinking it.'

'Easy for you to say,' Marcus muttered. 'You're not the one whose dad expects him to make varsity as a freshman.'

'Fair.' She pushed off the fence, dug into her backpack, and tossed him something. An orange. 'Coach says you're stiff because you're scared to fail. My advice? Stop running from the idea of messing up and just—' She made an exploding gesture with her hands. 'Let yourself suck first. Then get better.'

Marcus caught the orange one-handed, somehow. The setting sun caught its waxy surface, making it glow like something magical. 'When did you get so wise?'

'Since I dyed my hair and half the softball team stopped talking to me,' she said, but she was grinning. 'Some things are worth looking weird for.'

He stood there, orange in one hand, baseball in the other, heart pounding harder than any conditioning drill had ever made it. 'Want to stay while I take a few more cuts?'

Maya shrugged like it was no big deal, but her smile said otherwise. 'I've got time. But you're paying me back in orange slices.'

Marcus laughed—for real this time—and realized he hadn't felt this loose in weeks. Some strikeouts were worth it.