Signal Lost in the Outfield

Maya gripped her iphone until her knuckles turned white. No new notifications. Again. The group chat had been blowing up all morning about Javi's party tonight, but ever since she'd accidentally sent that cringeworthy confession to Lucas, she'd been ghosted by her own friend group.

"You good?" Chris asked, dropping onto the metal bleacher beside her. His baseball uniform was still pristine—number seven, same as last season when Maya had been the team's awkward freshman manager who'd accidentally ordered vegan hot dogs for the homecoming game.

"Just socially deceased," Maya muttered, shoving her phone deep into her crossbody bag. "No big."

The sun was beating down on the baseball field where their high school team was getting crushed. Again. Maya had only come because her mom insisted she needed "normal teenage experiences" instead of hiding in her room watching Netflix.

"Wanna know something embarrassing?" Chris said, fiddling with his batting gloves. "I still sleep with the bear my grandma gave me when I was six. His name is Buttons."

Maya snorted, surprising herself. "Buttons? That's somehow worse than the vegan hot dog incident."

"Hey, Buttons is emotional support," Chris grinned, and Maya felt something in her chest unclench. "Anyway, Lucas is an idiot if he can't handle a confession. Half the girls in sophomore year would literally—"

Suddenly, the crowd gasped. A massive bear had lumbered onto the field from the woods beyond left field. An actual bear, not the high school mascot who was currently cowering near the dugout.

Maya didn't think. She just grabbed Chris's hand and started running—her purple converse slapping against the pavement, Chris laughing beside her as they sprinted toward the exit, leaving the chaos behind. They ran until their lungs burned, collapsing onto the grass near the parking lot while the announcer's panicked voice echoed behind them.

"Okay," Maya wheezed, wiping sweat from her forehead. "That was literally the most teenager thing that's ever happened to me."

Chris checked his phone. "Group chat's going crazy. Everyone's asking where you are. Lucas posted three times about how worried he is."

Maya stared at the blue sky, the bear encounter somehow making her phone drama feel microscopic. "I think I'm done running from things."

"Yeah?" Chris bumped her shoulder with his. "Good. You know what else isn't running away?"

"What?"

"Buttons," he deadpanned. "Buttons stands his ground."

Maya laughed so hard she snorted. A real laugh, the first one in weeks. Her phone buzzed in her bag—notifications, probably—but she didn't check. Not yet. Sometimes the most important signals aren't the ones on your screen.