Strike Zone at Sunset

Marcus stood at the plate, the baseball bat feeling heavier than usual. Tryouts for the varsity team were tomorrow, and his swing still wasn't clicking. Coach Miller's words echoed in his head: "You're thinking too much, kid. Just see the ball, hit the ball."

His lab, Buster — a Golden Retriever mix with one ear that refused to stand up — trotted over from the dugout, dropping a slobbery tennis ball at Marcus's feet. "Not now, buddy," he muttered, though a smile tugged at his lips.

The sky turned that bruised orange color that meant sunset was coming. Storm clouds gathered on the horizon. His phone buzzed — Emma, the girl he'd been crushing on since seventh grade, was asking if he wanted to study at the library. He typed "maybe" but didn't send it. What was he supposed to say? Yeah, once I finish embarrassing myself at baseball practice?

That's when he saw it: the social pyramid of freshman year playing out in real-time. The popular kids clustered near the concession stand, laughing at something Tyler said. Tyler, whose dad owned half the downtown businesses and whose batting average was practically illegal. Meanwhile Marcus and the other misfits formed their own base down the left field line, sharing cheap snacks and worse jokes.

A crack of lightning split the sky, sudden and sharp. Everyone jumped. Coach Miller blew his whistle. "Pack it up, folks! Storm's coming in hot!"

As Marcus gathered his gear, Emma appeared at the fence. "Hey," she called over the wind. "Library still on?"

He almost said no. Almost let his insecurity win. But then Buster bounded over to her, tail wagging like he'd just won the lottery. Emma laughed, kneeling to scratch behind his ears.

"Yeah," Marcus found himself saying. "Just let me grab my stuff."

The first raindrop hit his glove as they walked toward the parking lot together. "So," Emma said, "I heard you're trying out for varsity. That's insane."

"Probably gonna fail," he admitted.

"Still," she bumped his shoulder with hers, "that takes guts."

Maybe the pyramid wasn't as rigid as he thought. Maybe — just maybe — he didn't have to be at the top to be seen. The storm broke overhead as they reached her car, both of them drenched and laughing, and Marcus realized some things were way better than a perfect swing.