Chop It Off

The bleachers behind home plate were crowded, but Maya sat alone, cross-legged on the metal bench. Her hair—currently dyed an electric blue that kept fading to weird patches of gray—hung in her face as she pretended to scroll through her phone. Actually, she was watching Leo, who was currently making a complete fool of himself at baseball tryouts.

"Strike three!" the coach bellowed, and Maya winced sympathetically. Leo had swung so hard he'd nearly spun himself into the dirt. He shook his head, adjusting his cap, and Maya felt that familiar squeeze in her chest that had nothing to do with sports and everything to do with how his stupid smile looked when he laughed at himself.

"Did you SEE that?" her friend Chloe dropped onto the bench beside her, smelling like coconut lip gloss and drama. "Leo Martinez almost fell over. Again. Why are we even here? Baseball's lame."

"I'm just... supporting the team," Maya muttered, which was such a lie. She'd never cared about baseball in her life. But Leo had spent all winter talking about making varsity, posting workout selfies at midnight, and now here she was, pretending to care about RBIs and whatever else people shouted from the stands.

The palm tree above them swayed in the breeze, dropping something that bounced off Chloe's head.

"Ow! Nature hates me," Chloe complained, then squinted at Maya. "Wait. You cut your hair."

Maya's hand flew to her chin. "Yeah, like, two weeks ago?"

"No, I mean really cut it. It's different." Chloe leaned in closer, and Maya shifted uncomfortably. "Wait, are you—"

"Hey!" Leo's voice made Maya jump. He'd jogged over during a break, sweat dripping down his temples, uniform streaked with dirt. He looked ridiculous. He looked amazing. "Did you see that last swing? I was THIS close."

He held up his thumb and pointer finger, showing a gap the size of literally nothing.

"You were... dedicated," Maya said, and Leo laughed, that sound that made her stomach do weird gymnastics routines.

"Watch this next one," he promised, and before she could stop herself, she said, "I believe in you."

The words hung in the air between them, heavier than she meant them to be. Leo's smile softened, just a fraction, and for a second, she thought he might say something back. But then the coach's whistle blew, and he had to run back to the dugout.

Maya watched him go, her fingers twisting around the blue strands falling in her face. Maybe she'd cut it shorter tomorrow. Maybe she'd stop pretending she didn't know exactly what his batting average was. Maybe next time, she'd actually say what she meant, instead of hiding behind words that could mean anything at all.

"Okay," Chloe said, breaking the silence. "I see it now."