Curveballs at the Pool Hall

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as Marcus stared at the green felt table, clutching the pool cue like it was a foreign object he'd never actually met.

"You gonna shoot or just vibe with the stick?" Maya leaned against the pool table, her varsity baseball jacket — the one she'd earned as starting pitcher — draped over her shoulders like she owned the place.

Marcus felt his face burning. This was supposed to be his moment. He'd practiced for weeks, watched YouTube tutorials, even bribed his little brother into teaching him spin techniques. But standing here with Maya LaSalle, who somehow managed to make everything look effortless, he wanted to dissolve into the carpet.

"I'm," Marcus started, then cleared his throat. "I'm getting there."

"You're overthinking it," she said, sliding onto the stool beside him. "Like how you stood at the plate during gym softball yesterday. Swinging like the bat was cursed."

Marcus groaned. "I froze, okay? Everyone was watching. I don't know how you do it. The whole baseball team watching you pitch, and you just... throw heat like it's nothing."

Maya's expression shifted. Something flickered behind her eyes — something that looked uncomfortably like fear.

"You think I don't freeze?" She laughed, but it sounded hollow. "Marcus, I puked before every single game this season. My mom makes me take these stupid vitamin B complex things she swears help with stress. I swear it's placebo effect, but I'm too scared to stop taking them."

He stared at her. "Maya LaSarte, undefeated pitcher, nervous wreck?"

"Undeafeated in W's, undefeated in anxiety." She pulled a small orange bottle from her jacket pocket and shook it. The pills rattled like secrets. "Wanna split one? For courage?"

Marcus laughed. "Sure. Why not. Can't make my pool game worse."

She palmed him a tiny yellow tablet. They both swallowed them dry, cracking up like they'd just pulled off the world's most perfect crime.

"Okay," Maya said, grabbing a cue. "Show me what you got, Hot Shot."

Marcus lined up his shot. The pool cue felt different this time — lighter somehow. He wasn't thinking about form, or Maya watching, or how ridiculous he probably looked. He was just... there.

He struck. The cue ball sailed forward, kissed the eight ball perfectly, and sent it spinning into the corner pocket.

"NO WAY!" Maya yelled, jumping up. "Did you just — did that actually happen?"

"Those vitamins are magic," Marcus grinned. "I'm gonna need the whole bottle."

"Baseball playoffs start Friday," she said, suddenly serious. "Come watch. You can bring your lucky cue."

"Only if you teach me how to actually play pool."

"Deal." She bumped his shoulder with hers. "But seriously, don't swallow the whole bottle. That's definitely not how vitamins work."

Marcus was still laughing when he realized he wasn't nervous anymore. Not about the pool game, not about Maya sitting next to him, not about the fact that he'd just completely embarrassed himself in front of the coolest girl in tenth grade.

Sometimes the curveballs you weren't expecting turned out to be the best ones anyway.