Curveball Confessions

Zoey crouched behind the bleachers, her knees cramping in the awkward squat position. Next to her, Maya adjusted her phone camera, eyes glued to the baseball field where Liam Anderson was winding up for another pitch.

"You're literally being a spy right now," Maya whispered, hitting record. "This is peak creepy behavior and I'm here for it."

"I'm not spying. I'm... observing. From a tactical distance." Zoey smoothed her hair for the thousandth time. "It's called gathering intel."

"It's called being down bad, babe."

Zoey's face burned. Okay, maybe she *was* down bad. But Liam had that whole "quiet pitcher" vibe going for him — the way he adjusted his cap between throws, how his forearms looked when he wound up, the intense focus in his eyes. She'd been crushing on him since October, and somehow they'd had exactly three conversations, all of which involved him saying "thanks" when she held doors open for him.

"Dude, someone's coming," Maya hissed.

Zoey's stomach dropped. Before she could process movement, a massive shape lumbered around the corner of the equipment shed. A bear. An actual freaking bear — well, the school mascot costume, which somehow wasn't better.

Tyler in the bear suit stopped, his fuzzy head tilting at them. "What are you guys doing back here?"

"Nothing!" Zoey squeaked. "Just... admiring the architecture?"

"Behind the bleachers?" Tyler's voice from inside the costume sounded muffled and judgmental. "Right."

"Fine," Maya said, standing up and dusting off her knees. "We're documenting Zoey's crush on Liam from a respectful distance. Are you happy?"

"Wait." Tyler's bear head swiveled toward the field. "Liam? He's been asking about you."

Zoey's heart did something illegal. "What?"

"He thinks you're funny. That time you fell up the stairs in homeroom? He said it was iconic." Tyler adjusted his bear paws. "I'm supposed to be warming up right now but whatever. Important bear business."

"You're telling me," Zoey's voice came out higher than intended, "that Liam Anderson — star pitcher, holder of my entire heart for seven months — KNOWS I EXIST AND THINKS I'M FUNNY?"

"And you're still hiding behind bleachers?" Maya raised an eyebrow. "What are you waiting for?"

"Go talk to him," Tyler said. "Or I'll make the bear do it. Nobody wants that kind of secondhand embarrassment."

So Zoey walked onto that baseball field like her legs weren't basically jelly, and somehow — somehow — by the end of practice, she'd gotten Liam's number. Not because she'd spied on him from behind the bleachers (though Maya would definitely never let her forget that happened), but because she'd finally just said "hey."

Sometimes the bravest thing isn't watching from the shadows. Sometimes it's walking into the light, even when your knees are shaking and your best friend is definitely recording it for blackmail material.