Sphinx in the Dugout

Marcus's life could be divided into two categories: before the cafeteria incident, and after.

"You need your **vitamin**," his mom had said that morning, shoving a neon-orange pill across the kitchen counter. "Baseball tryouts are today. You need energy."

Marcus had swallowed it with a grimace, then grabbed his glove. His stomach did that thing it always did before something important—like the time he'd had to give a speech on Greek mythology and accidentally called the **sphinx** a "sphenx" in front of everyone.包括 Lena. Lena, who wore oversized hoodies and wrote poetry on her arms in gel pen. Lena, who'd laughed at his spheneration disaster but looked at him like she actually wanted to know him better.

Now, in the cafeteria, Marcus sat three tables away, lowkey **spy**ing on her lunch conversation with her friends. He wasn't proud of it, okay? But this was freshman year. You had to gather intel.

He was mid-bite of his sandwich when his bestmate Tyrell dropped onto the bench beside him.

"Coach wants you eating **spinach**," Tyrell announced, like this was breaking news. "Said you're too skinny for first base."

Marcus gagged. "I'm not eating spinach."

"Bro, it's tryouts. You really gonna let that stop you?"

Marcus watched Lena laugh at something across the cafeteria. Her dark curls bounced like they had their own gravity.

"Fine," Marcus said. "I'll eat the stupid spinach."

The universe, sensing his weakness, chose that exact moment for catastrophe.

His vitamin pill, which he'd forgotten he'd even taken, chose to stage a rebellion. Marcus felt it before he heard it—a burp that started somewhere deep in his chest and escaped with the force of a nuclear explosion.

Lena looked up. Their eyes met across the cafeteria.

The silence was absolute.

Then she did something unexpected. Lena didn't look away. She didn't whisper to her friends. She cracked up. A real laugh, head thrown back, no holding back.

"Marcus!" she called across the room. "Was that a war cry or what?"

His face burned hotter than the sun. But he found himself grinning.

"Vitamin rebellion," he called back. "You should be scared."

She laughed harder. Someone said something about a riddle, and Marcus caught the words "sphinx" and "easy answer"—they really were studying mythology in her AP English class.

"Hey," she said later, appearing beside his table with her tray. "You trying out for baseball?"

Marcus nodded, unable to speak.

"Good luck," she said, and there was something in her voice that sounded like she meant it. "Maybe I'll come watch."

As she walked away, Marcus caught Tyrell's smirk.

"What?" Marcus demanded.

"Bro just got himself a cheering section," Tyrell said. "All thanks to a burp."

Marcus stared at his spinach-less sandwich. Sometimes the universe worked in mysterious ways. He'd take it.

"I'll eat the spinach tomorrow," he decided.

"Bet," said Tyrell.

And somewhere, the ancient sphinx nodded approvingly.