Chlorine Dreams

Maya stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, her normally curly hair frizzed into an aggressive halo after two hours at the pool. The chlorine water had turned it into something resembling a science experiment gone wrong.

"You going to the baseball game tonight?" her mom called from downstairs.

"Maybe," Maya muttered, rummaging through her backpack for the vitamin gummies her doctor insisted she take. Ever since she'd fainted in PE last month, everyone was treating her like she was made of glass. Like she needed supplements and rest and constant monitoring instead of, you know, a life.

Her phone buzzed. Jordan.

*Baseball tryouts tomorrow. You coming?*

Maya's thumb hovered over the screen. Last year, she'd been the star pitcher. This year? After the fainting incident, after all the doctor appointments and the "take it easy" talks, she wasn't sure she still had it in her. What if she went up to the mound and everyone could see she was different now? What if her hands shook?

She thought about Jordan out there on the diamond, dust kicking up around their cleats, the raw power of the pitch. Jordan with their perfect athletic everything, while Maya sat on the sidelines taking vitamin supplements and worrying about her frizzy hair.

*Idk. Still deciding,* she typed back.

Her reflection stared back—wild hair, uncertain eyes, the faint blue tinge of chlorine still on her skin from swim practice. She used to love the water. Used to love how it made her feel weightless, like nothing could touch her.

Maya grabbed her phone again. *Actually yeah. I'll be there.*

So what if she wasn't perfect anymore? So what if her hands might shake a little? Jordan was waiting. The game was waiting. And somewhere underneath all the worry and the vitamins and the fear, Maya was still there too.

She smoothed down her frizzy hair and grabbed her glove. Some things you don't have to fix. Some things you just play with as they are.