Goldfish in the Outfield

Marcus felt like a **zombie** walking through Northwood High. Three hours of sleep will do that to you. He pulled his **hat** lower—worn navy fabric smelling of sweat and anxiety. If he couldn't see them judging, maybe they weren't.

"Goldfish funeral at lunch," Maya whispered, sliding into the seat beside him. "RIP Bubbles."

Marcus groaned. The school's beloved **goldfish** had finally kicked it after two weeks of freshman overfeeding. Because apparently that's what passed for tragedy at a school where the biggest scandal was someone vaping in the bathroom.

Coach Martinez's voice cut through his thoughts. "Bennett! You're up."

Marcus dragged himself toward home plate. **Lightning** crackled ominously in the distance. He wasn't an athlete—he was just filling in because Tyler had broken his wrist trying to do a kickflip off the cafeteria benches. The **baseball** team had been desperate.

Standing in the batter's box, Marcus felt every eye drilling into him. His legs shook. The first pitch screamed toward him, and everything went slow motion. His body moved before his brain caught up.

*CRACK.*

The ball sailed into left field. The team went feral. Marcus stood there, stunned, as everyone screamed for him to run. He bolted toward first base, then second, then third—lungs burning, heart hammering.

"DUDE!" Tyler shouted from the dugout, crutch waving. "That was LIT!"

Marcus crossed home plate, chest heaving. Someone slapped his **hat** back onto his head, backwards this time. The team swarmed him, and for the first time all year, he wasn't invisible. He wasn't the quiet kid who sat in the back. He was the dude who hit a triple.

The first **lightning** bolt struck as they jogged off the field, rain following seconds later. Marcus laughed, genuinely laughed, as they sprinted for cover.

Maybe tomorrow he'd go back to being nobody. Maybe the **goldfish** would be forgotten and the **hat** would come back down. But right now, in the middle of a storm with a team screaming his name, Marcus felt something shift.

He wasn't dead inside anymore.