Sphinx at the Plate

My palms were sweating so much I could barely grip my phone. I stood by the dugout, watching Jordan take batting practice, and tried to look casual. Like I wasn't absolutely dying inside.

"You're staring again," Maya whispered, bumping my shoulder with hers. "It's getting weird."

"I'm not staring," I lied, wiping my hands on my jeans. "I'm observing. There's a difference."

Jordan hadn't noticed me yet. Thank god. My hair was doing this weird flippy thing on the left side because humidity in Florida was basically a personal attack. I looked like adefeated poodle.

The baseball cracked against Jordan's bat—that sharp, perfect sound that echoed across the field. Coach yelled something about form and follow-through, but I wasn't listening. Jordan was the Sphinx of our grade: mysterious, unapproachable, and apparently really good at sports. We'd had chemistry together last semester and I'd spent six months saying approximately three sentences total, all of them awkward.

"He's coming over," Maya hissed.

I froze. This was it. The moment my social life died.

Jordan jogged toward us, all loose confidence and effortless cool. The golden hour light caught the brown hair that fell over their forehead when they stopped.

"Hey," Jordan said.

That was it. Just hey. My brain had vacated the premises.

"Hey," I managed, sounding like a squeaky toy.

"You left this in chemistry." Jordan held out my favorite pen—the glittery one I'd been mourning for weeks. "Found it in my bag from the lab partner thing."

"Oh. Thanks."

"You coming to the game Friday?"

"Maybe?" My voice went up at the end like a question. Why was I like this?

Jordan smiled. It was small and real and made my stomach do something genuinely concerning. "You should. I'm running bases today, but Friday I'm starting."

"I'll be there," I said, surprising myself with how steady it came out.

"Cool." Jordan jogged back to the plate.

Maya grabbed my arm. "Did you just make plans?"

"I think I did."

"And your hair is literally a disaster."

"I know."

But for the first time, I didn't even care.