Lightning at the Plate

Marcus stood at the plate, baseball bat in his hands, feeling like a total zombie. Third night in a row he'd been up until 2 AM finishing that history project, and now Coach Davis expected him to crush it in the semifinals like he wasn't running on fumes and three energy drinks.

"You got this, Marcus!" yelled Jenna from the stands. She was wearing his jersey—well, technically it was his jersey, but she'd "borrowed" it last week and never returned it. The way she bit her lip when he looked over at her made his stomach do that weird flip-flop thing it always did.

Marcus's golden retriever, Buster, barked from behind the fence where the team kept him during games. Buster had been Marcus's since third grade, back when Marcus was still figuring out who he was supposed to be. Sometimes Marcus thought the dog knew him better than anyone.

Storm clouds had been rolling in all afternoon, purple and massive. The first crack of lightning hit just as Marcus stepped into the batter's box—BOOM, like the sky was tearing open. Everyone flinched. But Marcus felt weirdly calm. Something about the storm matched what was brewing inside him.

"Play ball!" the umpire yelled, like they could just ignore that the weather was going full apocalyptic.

The pitcher wound up. Marcus's mind flashed to Jenna, to his parents expecting him to make varsity, to the zombie marathons he and his friends binge-watched when they should've been studying. For once, he didn't overthink it. He didn't try to be perfect.

CRACK.

The ball sailed toward the fence. Marcus ran, lungs burning, everything finally clear. He rounded first, then second, then third. Lightning flashed again as his foot hit home plate—perfect timing for once.

Jenna was waiting with Buster, who'd somehow gotten loose. "That was insane," she said, grinning.

"Yeah," Marcus said, scratching Buster's ears. "Pretty insane."

Maybe being a teenager was okay sometimes. Even when you felt like a zombie, even with all the pressure, sometimes you just had to swing at whatever life pitched you.