Spinach Strikes Back

First day of varsity baseball tryouts and my stomach was doing cartwheels. Coach Miller stood at the plate, barking orders like he'd invented the sport itself.

"Bennett! You're up! Don't embarrass yourself out there!"

I grabbed my bat—some ancient aluminum thing my dad used in the nineties—and shuffled toward home plate. That's when my backpack decided to betray me. The zipper gave way, and suddenly I was watching my Tupperware container do a perfect arc onto the ground. Spinach. Everywhere. The entire team went dead silent.

"Someone pack a healthy lunch?" This came from Tyler, the junior shortstop who'd already made varsity twice. His laugh was this annoying bark that made my face burn hotter than the sun.

But before I could die of embarrassment, I heard jingling. A golden retriever—a literal dog, just casually wandering onto the field—made a beeline for my spilled lunch. Everyone started cracking up. Even Coach cracked a smile.

"Guess someone's hungry," he said.

The dog's owner came running over, some sophomore girl I'd seen around but never talked to. "Moose! Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" She was trying to drag this seventy-pound dog away from my spinach disaster, but Moose was determined.

She looked at me, eyes wide. "I'm Maya. And apparently Moose really likes spinach."

"Bennett," I managed. "And apparently so did I, until five seconds ago."

She laughed. Actually laughed, not like Tyler's bark-laugh. This was real.

Coach handed me a water bottle. "Clean up that mess, Bennett. Then get your butt back in the batter's box. Show us what you've got."

I kneeled down, grabbing handfuls of spinach while Moose continued his feast. Maya helped, her shoulder brushing against mine.

"For what it's worth," she said quietly, "Tyler's laugh sounds like a dying seal. You're good."

I looked up, and she was already walking away, tugging Moose behind her. But something shifted in my chest. The embarrassment didn't disappear, but suddenly it felt smaller. Manageable.

I stepped into the batter's box, took a deep breath, and watched the first pitch fly right down the middle. I didn't overthink it. I just swung.

CRACK. The ball sailed into left field, and for the first time all day, the silence was the good kind.