Lightning in the Ninth

The hat was everything. A beat-up Padres cap that'd seen better days, but it was my lucky hat — the one I wore during every pivotal moment. Which was exactly why I was freaking out that I'd left it at Maya's house yesterday.

"You're spiraling, bro," Leo said, tapping his bat against the concrete dugout floor. "Varsity tryouts, today. This is it." Leo wasn't just my friend; he was basically my personal hype man, even when I didn't deserve it.

Outside, the sky had that bruised purple look like something nasty was rolling in. Coach Medina blew his whistle, gathering us around. "Alright, listen up! I know you've all heard the rumors about Jackson Heights. They talk mad trash, but we've got something they don't." He paused dramatically. "Heart."

I swallowed hard. My stomach was doing full-on gymnastics.

"That's such bull," someone muttered behind me. It was Tyler, the senior shortstop who'd made varsity last year as a sophomore. "They've got that kid who threw a no-hitter against Central. We're gonna get smoked."

Something in me snapped. Maybe it was the humidity, or maybe it was just that I was so done with Tyler's negativity always poisoning everything.

"Yo, can you stop?" I said, turning around. Tyler blinked, genuinely surprised. "Like, for real. We get it, you're scared too. But some of us actually want to be here, and you're literally projecting onto everyone because you know you're not that good anyway."

The dugout went dead silent.

Tyler's face flushed. "The hell did you just say to me?"

"You heard me." My voice shook but I kept going. "You think talking trash makes you look tough? It just makes you look insecure. We're a team. Act like it."

For a second, I thought he was gonna swing at me. Instead, he burst out laughing. "Damn, kid. Didn't know you had that in you." He actually fist-bumped my shoulder. "Alright, fair point. Let's ball."

Coach Medina winked at me.

Then it happened — a crack of thunder that shook the entire stadium. Lightning forked across the sky like someone had taken a photo of the exact moment I realized I wasn't the same scared freshman I used to be.

"Practice is canceled!" Coach yelled. "Everyone inside, NOW!"

We scrambled toward the school building, and as I ran, I thought about my lucky hat still sitting on Maya's dresser. Turns out I didn't need it after all.