Sphinx in the Dugout

Marcus stood in the batter's box, palms sweating so much he could practically wring out his batting gloves. Tryouts for the JV baseball team. The make-or-break moment. And of course, she was watching from the bleachers.

Chloe, aka The Sphinx. Nobody knew what she was thinking—ever. She'd transferred to their school two months ago with her riddles and unreadable expressions. Marcus had been trying to decode her since.

"You're up, new kid!" Coach hollered.

Marcus stepped up, heart hammering. He'd been crushing on Chloe since she'd complimented his drawing in art class. But every time he tried to talk to her, words came out wrong or not at all.

The pitcher wound up and fired. Marcus swung, making solid contact. The ball soared toward left field.

"Go!" his teammates shouted.

He rounded first base, legs pumping. Second base. The coach was waving him home. He slid across home plate, dust flying everywhere. Safe.

"Not bad, rookie," said Jordan, the team's shortstop and basically the social hierarchy kingpin. "Welcome to the team."

Marcus's brain short-circuited. He'd made it. Actually made it.

After practice, he found Chloe sitting on the bleachers, sketching in her notebook. This was it. His chance to finally talk to her without looking like a total clown.

"Hey," he said, walking over. "I saw you watching."

"Everyone watches baseball tryouts," she said, not looking up. Her dark hair fell over her face like a curtain.

"Right. Cool. Cool." Marcus's palms were sweating again. "So, I made the team."

"Congratulations."

Why was she so impossible to read? The Sphinx had nothing on her.

"Hey, you've got something..." She pointed at her own teeth.

Marcus froze. "What?"

"Spinach. From lunch probably."

His soul left his body. He'd been walking around with green stuff in his teeth for THREE HOURS. During tryouts. While trying to impress the girl.

"Thanks," he mumbled, turning away to hide his flaming face. "That's embarrassing."

"It happens." A small smile played on her lips. "At least you made the team."

"Yeah. Small victories."

"See you tomorrow, Marcus."

She knew his name. THE SPHINX KNEW HIS NAME.

Walking home, Marcus couldn't stop grinning. Okay, so he'd had spinach in his teeth. Whatever. He'd made the team. And Chloe knew his name. Sometimes life was weird like that—messy but not terrible.