Goldfish Season at the Plate

Maya's fingers hovered over her iPhone screen, the notification from Alex making her stomach do that weird flip-flop thing. You coming to the game? She'd spent forty-five minutes on her hair — those perfect beach waves that took way too much product and patience — and now her dad was already honking from the driveway.

The baseball field smelled like cut grass and teenage boy sweat, exactly the way Friday nights were supposed to. Her friends claimed the bleachers behind home plate, their phones glowing like fireflies in the dusk. Maya squeezed between Kayla and Jordan, trying to act natural about sitting exactly where Alex would have the best view of the dugout.

"He's looking at you," Kayla whispered, nudging her arm.

"No he's not, shut up." Maya's face burned hotter than the concession stand lights.

Her goldfish, Fin, was swimming in its bowl back home, probably wondering why its owner had spent the last three days staring at her phone instead of watching it do literally nothing. Fin had been her consolation prize after her older sister Sarah got the brand this year's model iPhone. Now Maya had both, and somehow the fish felt like the smarter investment.

Alex stepped up to the plate. The crowd went wild — something about him being the bear of a pitcher they needed against their rivals. Maya didn't totally get sports metaphors, but she got how everyone leaned in when he wound up for the pitch.

"He's such a fox," Jordan muttered, and Maya tried not to visibly cringe.

The crack of the bat echoed through the stadium. Alex was rounding first, then second, and Maya's iPhone buzzed in her hand.

Nice seat. ;)

Her thumbs hovered, stupid autocorrect already suggesting totally wrong words. She'd been drafted into this social game without knowing the rules, and every swing felt like it could be a home run or a total strikeout.

A real fox darted behind the outfield fence, its orange coat catching the stadium lights. Nobody else saw it — too busy watching Alex slide into home, the umpire's arms stretching wide. SAFE.

The crowd exploded. Maya's phone buzzed again, but she ignored it, watching Alex laugh with his teammates, his jersey streaked with dirt. Maybe next time she'd actually respond instead of overthinking it like she did everything else.

Fin was probably asleep by now. Some things just needed to happen in their own time.