Curveball

Marcus adjusted his baseball cap for the thousandth time, sweat already trickling down his temples. It was only seventh grade, but trying out for the team felt like the most important moment of his entire life.

"You ready for this?" Jordan asked, bumping his shoulder. His best friend since kindergarten was already decked out in full gear, looking like he'd been born with a cleat in his mouth.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Marcus lied, his stomach doing somersaults. Coach Martinez blew her whistle - sharp and piercing, like she'd punctured his nervous bubble.

"Alright everyone, we're doing baseline running first. Let's see what you've got!"

Running. Marcus could handle running. He'd been running track since sixth grade, mostly because his dad said it would "build character" (whatever that meant). But as they lined up for sprints, his heart hammered. Not from the exercise, but from the secret he'd been carrying all spring.

Coach Martinez's whistle cut through his thoughts. "GO!"

He took off, legs pumping, breath coming in ragged gasps. Around the bases, past first, second, heading toward home - and suddenly he wasn't thinking about baseball anymore. He was thinking about the conversation he'd had with his older sister last week. The one where she'd asked, "Have you ever thought about why you're so obsessed with fitting into these boxes everyone keeps handing you?"

He slid into home, dirt flying everywhere, and lay there panting. Sweat dripped into his eyes, burning.

"Not bad, Harper," Coach Martinez called out. "Hit the water fountain and get back in line."

Water. Cool, refreshing water that washed away the taste of fear. As Marcus drank, he caught his reflection in the gym window - baseball cap pulled low, jersey hanging loose, looking like every other guy trying out. But feeling completely, totally different.

"Hey Marcus!" Jordan called from the field. "You're up for batting practice!"

He grabbed his helmet and headed to the plate, something shifting in his chest. Maybe it was the water, or the way Coach Martinez smiled like she knew something he didn't, or just the fact that he was tired of pretending.

Marcus adjusted his baseball cap, took a deep breath, and stepped into the batter's box. Whatever happened next, he decided, he was done running from himself.