Papaya Thunder at Home Plate

Mateo's palms were sweating through his batting gloves. Again. Third time this week, and definitely not because of the humidity.

"You good, bro?" called Isaiah from the mound, spinning the baseball like he owned the world. "Or you gonna keep striking out like last time?"

The whole varsity team snickered. Because of course they did. Mateo adjusted his grip, trying to look chill even though his stomach was doing jumping jacks. This was it — the final inning of the championship game, bases loaded, two outs. The kind of moment people talked about at reunions.

He'd been running from this moment all season. Ever since That Incident with Skylar at the papaya smoothie shack after practice, where his brain had short-circuited and he'd somehow managed to say "your papaya looks nice today" instead of "want to hang out sometime?"

Who said that? WHO?

Strike one.

The thunderclouds were rolling in fast. Coach Miller was already eyeing the sky, probably calculating the chances of getting this game in before the storm hit.

Second pitch — strike two.

Mateo stepped out of the batter's box. He could hear his dad's voice in his head: *Breathe, mijo. You've got this.* But his dad wasn't the one standing here with eighty people watching, including Skylar in the stands, probably laughing at him with their perfectly perfect friends.

Lightning flashed somewhere in the distance. Nature's way of saying *hurry up already*.

The third pitch came. Fast.

CRACK.

Mateo didn't think. He just dropped the bat and started running, his cleats digging into the dirt, lungs burning, everything blurring except the white bases ahead. First base. Second. The crowd was screaming but he couldn't hear anything over his own heartbeat. Round third, heading home —

The sky opened up.

Rain came down in sheets as Mateo's foot hit home plate. Safe. Game-winning run. His teammates tackled him in the mud, everyone slipping and sliding and laughing like crazy people.

Through the downpour, he caught sight of Skylar standing at the fence, grinning, giving him a thumbs-up.

Maybe the papaya comment hadn't been so bad after all.