Spinach Teeth and Strikeouts

The bleachers were packed. Like, actually packed. Maya's stomach did that thing where it felt like a hamster was trying to escape through her belly button.

"You got this," said Liam, standing way too close. His hair smelled like citrus shampoo and confidence. "Just don't think about it."

Easy for him to say. He wasn't the one who'd accidentally eaten a spinach wrap before tryouts. She could FEEL the green bits wedged somewhere catastrophic. Her mom had packed those chewable vitamin tablets in her lunch this morning, too, like they'd somehow compensate for social suicide.

"Batter UP!"

The baseball diamond stretched before her, a terrifying expanse of dirt and grass and expectations. About thirty people watched—mostly jocks, but also Crystal from chemistry, who'd never let Maya live this down.

The first pitch came. Fast.

SWING. Miss.

"Strike one!"

Her face burned. She could practically feel the spinach announcing itself to everyone.

"You're pivoting too early," Liam whispered from behind the backstop. "Bend your knees more."

Second pitch. She connected—but it was pathetic. A weak dribbler toward third base. The shortstop barely had to move. Out.

The coach's clipboard snapped. "Next!"

Humiliation, thy name was this afternoon. Maya trudged toward the dugout, spotting someone's golden retriever chasing a butterfly near the outfield fence. At least the dog was having a good time.

"Hey," Liam caught up with her, handing her a sliced orange from his bag. "You hit it. That's more than half the people out there."

"Barely," she muttered, accepting the wedge. The citrus burst in her mouth was bright and sharp. "I looked like a toddler swinging at piñatas."

"You looked like someone trying something new." Liam leaned against the chain-link fence, sunlight catching his eyelashes. "That's actually kind of brave."

She paused. "Brave? I think that word just died of embarrassment."

"Nah." He grinned. "My dog ate my homework last week—literally. I still had to turn it in with teeth marks. THAT was embarrassing. This? This is just practice."

Something in her chest loosened.

"There's spinach in your teeth," he added casually. "Just so you know."

Maya stopped mid-chew. "You couldn't have told me BEFORE?"

"Would you have swung anyway?"

She thought about it. The fear, the pressure, the wanting so badly to be good at something in a world where everyone already seemed to have their thing figured out.

"Yeah," she said slowly. "I would have."

"Then." He tossed her another orange slice. "That's brave."