Diamond Dust and Morning Miles

Marcus stood at the edge of the baseball diamond, his cleats digging into the dirt like they'd done a thousand times before. But something was different now. His dad's voice echoed in his head: "You're gonna be varsity pitcher by junior year, M arc. That vitamin regimen I put you on isn't cheap."

The truth Marcus couldn't say out loud? He hadn't touched a baseball in three weeks. Instead, he'd been running—actual running, like track and field, cross country, anything that meant freedom from the bullpen and the pressure-cooker expectations.

"You coming to practice?" Tyrell called from the dugout, already in his uniform, already perfect.

"Yeah. Just... gotta grab something from my locker first." The lie burned like acid. Marcus's fingers found the bottle in his backpack—the expensive vitamins his dad swore would "bulk him up." His fingers hesitated. Then he shoved them deep into his pocket instead.

"Marcus!" His dad's familiar gray sedan rolled up beside him, window already down. "I talked to Coach Miller. You're starting Saturday's game."

"Dad, I—"

"Don't. We've discussed this. You're not throwing away four years of travel ball because you're having a 'moment.'" The quotation marks in his voice made Marcus's stomach churn.

That night, Marcus laced up his running shoes instead. The cool air hit his face as he pushed past the neighborhood, past the perfectly manicured fields where he'd spent his entire childhood. He ran until his lungs burned, until the baseball diamond of his childhood was just lights in the distance.

He kept the vitamin bottle on his nightstand that night, unopened. For the first time in fifteen years, Marcus woke up thinking about something other than a fastball.

"You okay?" his mom asked at breakfast, sliding pancakes onto his plate.

Marcus looked at his dad, who was already checking baseball schedules on his phone. Then he looked at the running shoes by the door, the ones he'd actually chosen for himself.

"Actually," Marcus said, his voice steady, "I think I finally am."