Lightning at Home Plate

Marcus adjusted his orange cleats, his heart doing that thing where it forgot its rhythm. Baseball tryouts. Again. Third time's a charm, right? Not when Coach Miller — aka The Bull — stood behind home plate with arms crossed and a glare that could curdle milk.

"Barker, you're up!" someone shouted, and Marcus's stomach somersaulted. He stepped to the plate, the bat feeling suddenly too heavy in his hands.

First pitch: swing and a miss. The Bull's clipboard tapped against his thigh — disappointed.

Second pitch: foul ball. Marcus's face burned. Everyone was watching. Especially Jessica from algebra, who'd somehow shown up to watch tryouts. Why was she here? Why was ANYTHING?

Then he saw it. A scruffy tabby cat padding along the outfield fence, tail held high like it owned the place. The cat stopped and watched him with these calm, knowing eyes. You got this, the cat seemed to say. Or maybe it was just a cat being a cat.

Third pitch coming. Marcus breathed in, breathed out, remembered what his dad had said: see it, trust it, send it.

CRACK.

The ball soared toward left field like it had somewhere important to be. Everyone looked up. The cat looked up. Even The Bull looked up.

Then lightning split the sky — purple-white veins across the orange-and-pink sunset. Thunder rolled in like it had something to prove.

"Everyone inside! NOW!" The Bull's voice boomed. Practice was over.

But Marcus was still grinning as he jogged toward the dugout, his teammates slapping his back, Jessica actually smiling at him from the stands. The cat was nowhere to be seen, probably somewhere warm and unbothered, the way cats tended to be.

Sometimes things clicked. Sometimes they didn't. But sometimes, just sometimes, you connected with something — a pitch, a person, a random cat judging your form from the fence — and whatever happens next, you know you're gonna be okay.

Marcus grabbed his bag from the dugout, orange sunset spilling across everything. The Bull caught his eye on the way out and gave the smallest nod.

Yeah. Tomorrow was gonna be good.