Pyramid Scheme on the Diamond

Jordan's trucker hat sat three inches deep on their forehead like armor. It was practically glued there since seventh gym period freshman year when a rogue baseball had knocked their glasses into the drinking fountain. Now, staring down the social pyramid that was Westbridge High's varsity team, Jordan adjusted the brim and stepped up to the plate like they owned it.

Which they definitely didn't.

"Nice hat, loser," called Miller, the team captain and current occupant of said pyramid's apex. His voice dripped with enough sarcasm to flood the Sahara. "Think it'll protect you from breaking another bat?"

The dugout erupted. Jordan's face burned like someone had aimed a heat lamp at it.

The pitch came in. Jordan swung. Missed. The ball sailed into the catcher's mitt with a dull thud that sounded like their social life imploding.

"Strike!" the umpire bellowed.

Second pitch. Same result.

Third pitch, Jordan didn't swing. Just watched it paint the corner of the plate.

"You're gonna strike out looking?" Miller hollered, laughing. "That's almost impressive."

But something in Jordan shifted. Maybe it was remembering their grandfather's stories about bull riding. That old man had faced down two thousand pounds of angry beef with nothing but grit and a prayer. What did Jordan have to lose? Some dignity? Please. That had been gone since middle school.

Fourth pitch. Jordan connected.

The ball sailed toward the pyramid-shaped concession stand beyond left field. The team went dead silent. Miller's jaw unhinged like he'd swallowed a bug.

"What?" Jordan shouted back at them, still gripping the bat. "You think a hat's gonna stop me from crushing your slow-ass pitching?"

The ball landed somewhere near the cornfield behind the backstop.

Jordan trotted the bases, their heart hammering like it would break ribs. Crossed home plate. Adjusted the hat.

"Next time," they said to Miller, whose pyramid of dominance had just developed a serious crack, "aim better."

The team's silence said everything.

Jordan's grandfather would've lost it.