Spinach Teeth and Strikeouts

Maya leaned against the chain-link fence, heart hammering like she'd been sprinting instead of just watching from the sidelines. Baseball practice at Northwood High meant Jake Torres would be there, shirt sleeves rolled up, throwing fastballs that made everyone's breath catch.

She'd been crushing on him since seventh period English when he'd loaned her a pen and smiled with that tiny, perfect gap between his front teeth. Now it was freshman year and Maya had a plan: reinvent herself as someone who belonged near the dugout, not just the girl who stayed after school to feed her cat, Barnaby, and avoided anything remotely athletic.

"You coming to the party tonight?" asked Chloe, spinning her phone. "Everyone's gonna be there."

"Maybe," Maya said, smoothing her hair. "I have to—"

"Walk your dog?" Chloe giggled. "We all know you don't even have a dog."

Maya flushed. Yeah, okay, she'd lied about having a golden retriever named Max back in August because it sounded cooler than admitting she spent weekends talking to her cat while her parents worked late. The lie had spiraled, and now Chloe's best friend was asking why Max never appeared in any of Maya's posts.

But that wasn't even the worst part.

The worst part was the spinach. Fresh, raw spinach from the salad she'd nervously shoved into her mouth before first period because someone said greener food made you look more athletic. Now it was wedged undignifiedly between her front teeth, and every time she opened her mouth to say something to Jake, she remembered and clamped it shut again.

"Hey." Jake appeared beside her, sweat glistening on his forehead. "You're Maya, right? From English?"

She nodded, terrified to speak.

"You watching practice?" He leaned closer, and Maya panicked. Was this it? Her chance?

"Yeah," she squeaked. "I love baseball. It's my favorite."

Her phone buzzed. Her mom: Did you feed Barnaby yet? I heard him meowing on the home camera again.

Jake's phone buzzed too. He glanced down, then back at her. "Hey, random question—do you like cats?"

Maya blinked. "What?"

"My cat had kittens last week," Jake said, shrugging like this was normal conversation starter material. "I was gonna ask if you wanted to see them. My mom says I have to give them away, but I secretly want to keep one."

The spinach forgotten, Maya stared at him. "You—you have a cat?"

"Three," Jake admitted. "I'm a cat person. Don't tell the team—they'll never let me live it down."

Something loosened in her chest. "I have a cat named Barnaby," she heard herself say. "He's basically my only friend."

Jake grinned. "No way. Same. Cats before people, right?"

They walked to his house together, Jake's baseball gear forgotten on the field. At his house, Maya held a tiny orange kitten while Jake's mom offered her actual food that wasn't raw spinach. Chloe would flip when she found out Maya had hung out with Jake Torres, but honestly?

Maya didn't care. She was done running from who she actually was—cat lady, spinach incident survivor, and now, apparently, the girl who finally got to talk to Jake.

"So," Jake said, sitting beside her on his front porch while kittens crawled over their legs. "You still coming to that party tonight?"

"Only if I can bring Barnaby," Maya said.

Jake laughed. "Deal."