Palm Trees and Best Friends

The Saturday baseball game stretched into its seventh inning, and I was basically a zombie at this point. Three hours of sleep thanks to that history paper'll do that to you. My best friend since kindergarten, Jen, sat beside me, scrolling through her phone like she'd rather be literally anywhere else.

"You good?" I asked, trying to casual it up even though my palms were sweating. I'd been rehearsing this conversation all week.

"Yeah, fine." She didn't look up. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Outside the stadium, palm trees swayed in the breeze against a perfect blue sky. Classic California day, classic me overthinking everything. But something had shifted between us lately, and I couldn't ignore it anymore. She'd been hanging out with the popular crowd more, leaving me on read for hours, making plans without me.

"So, about Saturday," I started. "Are we still—"

"Oh, shoot, I meant to tell you." She finally looked at me, wincing. "Jordan's having a party. I kind of told her we'd go."

Jordan. The girl who'd made fun of my hoodie in seventh grade. The one who'd accidentally CC'd the whole grade on an email making fun of my braces.

"Since when do you hang with Jordan?" The words came out sharper than I'd intended.

"Since she's actually chill now?" Jen's voice got that defensive edge. "Since maybe you could make an effort too?"

The baseball game announcer cheered something, but the sound felt miles away. My stomach did that awful twisting thing it does when everything changes at once.

"I'm not changing who I am just to fit in with people who wouldn't give me the time of day two years ago," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

Jen looked away. Whatever. I'd rather have no friend than a fake one.

"Maybe we're just growing apart," she said quietly. "It happens."

"Yeah," I stood up. "It does."

The walk home alone wasn't as bad as I'd thought. Palm trees lined the street, catching the golden hour light. Growing up meant growing apart sometimes, and I was done being the zombie friend who just went along with everything. Some friendships have innings, and some end early. That was baseball, right?