Palm Trees and Curveballs

The air smelled like coconut sunscreen and desperation. I stood at the edge of Tyler's pool party, nursing my third Dr. Pepper like it was something stronger. My best friend Marcus had ditched me twenty minutes ago to talk to Sarah — the girl he'd been crushing on since sixth grade — and I was officially third-wheeling it solo in the shallow end.

'Yo, you playing?' Jason called out. He stood in the grass holding a whiffle ball bat, looking annoyingly confident in his swim trunks. Some of the guys were playing what they called 'pool baseball' — hitting whiffle balls toward the water, trying to splash people. Because apparently regular baseball wasn't enough of a sport.

I held up my hand. 'Pass. I'm good.'

'Come on, bro.' Marcus appeared behind me, grinning like he hadn't just abandoned me for half an hour. 'Your dad coaches baseball. You probably crush this.'

That was the thing about Marcus — he'd forget you existed, then remember you at the worst possible moments. I sighed, wading toward the grass.

The first pitch came low and inside. I swung awkwardly, my feet sliding on wet grass, and missed completely. Everyone laughed. Jason too, but not meanly.

'Steep learning curve,' he said, tossing me the ball. 'Your turn.'

I stood on the makeshift pitcher's mound — basically a patch of dirt near the **palm** tree. The leaves rustled above me like they were laughing too. I drew back and threw, putting way too much shoulder into it. The ball sailed over everyone's head and landed with a pathetic splash in the deep end of the pool.

'Water ball!' someone yelled.

My face burned. But then Marcus was there, bumping my shoulder with his. 'Bro, you literally threw that into another area code. That's talent.'

I laughed despite myself. The tension in my chest loosened. Sarah waved at Marcus from the pool ladder, and this time he didn't just bolt. He jerked his head toward her.

'You coming?'

'Nah.' I picked up the whiffle ball, wringing out the **water** from its holes. 'I think I'm gonna try that pitch again. See if I can hit the pool this time.'

Marcus smirked. 'Rizz is improving, bro. Keep it up.'

He walked off toward Sarah, and I stood there under the palm tree, ball in hand, not feeling like a third wheel anymore. Just someone figuring out how to find their own rhythm, even if it meant missing a few swings first.