Storm Watcher

Alex adjusted his cap, sweat dripping down his neck as Coach Miller yelled from the dugout. "Jackson, eyes on the ball! This isn't rocket science!" The baseball diamond shimmered in the July heat, and Alex could feel his teammates' eyes boring into his back. Another strikeout, another round of subtle snickers. Whatever. He adjusted his glove and stepped back into the batter's box, determination warring with the dread of humiliating himself again.

That's when he noticed her—the girl with the messy bun who'd been sitting behind the backstop for three days straight. Just watching. Always watching. At first he'd thought she was scouting for someone else, maybe Tyler or Jayden, the actual stars of the team. But her eyes tracked him specifically, notebook in hand, occasionally scribbling something. A spy? For who? The whole situation was giving major stalker vibes, and honestly? Alex was weirdly flattered.

"Alright, bring it in!" Coach's voice cut through his thoughts. "Storm's rolling in. Lightning closer than three miles, we're done."

The team scattered toward the locker room, leaving Alex alone at home plate as the first heavy drops began to fall. He turned to leave and froze—she was still there, notebook clutched to her chest like a shield, rain plastering her oversized t-shirt to her frame.

"You gonna explain why you've been spying on me all week?" Alex called over the growing thunder. He meant it to come out casual, but his voice cracked. Classic.

She stepped closer, mascara starting to run down her cheeks. "I'm not—I write for the school paper. I'm supposed to be profiling the 'rising stars' of the baseball team."

"And you picked me? The guy who's struck out seven times in three games?"

"You're not terrible," she said, and something in her voice made his chest tight. "You've got a solid swing. You're just overthinking it. I can tell." She shrugged. "My dad coached travel ball for fifteen years. I kinda absorbed everything by osmosis."

A flash of lightning split the sky, followed immediately by thunder that rattled Alex's teeth.

"We should probably—" he started.

"Yeah."

They sprinted toward the covered concession stand together, shoulders bumping in the downpour. For the first time all week, Alex wasn't thinking about his batting average or whether Tyler and Jayden were making fun of him. He was thinking about how the strange girl who'd been spying on him might be the only person who actually saw him.

"I'm Maya, by the way," she said as they collapsed under the shelter, breathless and soaked.

"Alex."

She grinned, pushing her soggy bangs off her forehead. "Wanna know what I wrote in my notebook?"

Alex found himself smiling back. "Only if it includes actual baseball advice."

"Deal."