Chlorine and Curveballs

Marcus stood at the edge of the **pool**, clutching his phone like a lifeline. The sophomore spring fling party was in full swing—literally. People were cannonballing, screaming, and generally existing at a volume level his anxiety couldn't process.

"You coming in or what?"

He jumped. Maya stood behind him, dripping wet, her hair slicked back like some kind of gorgeous mermaid warrior. She was on varsity everything. Marcus was on varsity nothing.

"Uh, yeah. Just warming up."

"You've been warming up for twenty minutes."

She smirked. Marcus felt his face burn hotter than the afternoon sun.

The truth: Marcus had forgotten his swimsuit. He was wearing basketball shorts, which everyone knew was code for I didn't plan this and I'm fundamentally unprepared for social situations. But that wasn't even the real problem.

The real problem was the **spinach**.

His mom had made a smoothie that morning—some health kick phase—and it had turned his teeth faintly green. He'd brushed three times. Still green-ish.

Maya kept looking at him. Or maybe at his teeth.

"So," she said, "I heard you tried out for the team."

Marcus froze. "Who told you that?"

"Small school. Word gets around."

He had tried out. Freshman year, for **baseball**. He'd played little league, been decent, but high school was different. The pressure, the older guys, the way his hands shook during tryouts. He'd struck out. Twice. Walked away pretending he didn't care.

"Yeah, didn't make it. Whatever."

Maya tilted her head. "You gonna try again?"

"Why? So I can embarrass myself twice? No thanks."

"I struck out my first three at-bats this season," she said. "Fourth time, I hit a double. Coach still talks about it."

Marcus stared at her. "You struck out?"

"I'm human, weirdly enough. Want to know the difference between me and you?"

"You're athletic and I'm—"

"I got back in the batter's box."

She splashed him. Water hit his chest, shocking and cold.

"Come in the pool, Marcus. The water's fine."

He looked at his phone. At the party. At Maya, waiting.

"My teeth are kind of green," he blurted.

She laughed. "I can see that from here. It's not exactly subtle."

"Oh my god."

"It's fine. Come in. I won't tell anyone except everyone I know."

Marcus groaned, but he was already grinning. He jumped.

The water swallowed him whole—chlorine and cold and perfect. When he surfaced, Maya was still there, smiling.

"So," she said. "Tryouts are next week. I can help you practice if you want."

Marcus wiped water from his eyes. His teeth were still green. His shorts were still wrong. Everything was slightly embarrassing.

"Yeah," he said. "I'd like that."