Strikeout at First Sight

My hair had decided to stage a full-blown rebellion. Sometime between third period history and lunch, my carefully gelled waves had morphed into what looked like a startled porcupine having a bad hair day. I caught my reflection in the cafeteria window and groaned.

"You look fine, Leo," Maya said, sliding onto the bench across from me. She didn't even look up from her phone, probably scrolling TikTok or something.

"Fine? I look like I stuck a fork in an electrical outlet."

Maya finally glanced up and snorted. "At least you're not Tyler. Dude's got spinach in his teeth and he's been smiling at Sarah all lunch like he's trying to start a photosynthesis club."

I winced. Tyler had been trying to get Sarah to notice him since September, and she'd actually been kinda receptive lately. This was his moment and he was about to blow it because of a side salad tragedy.

"Someone should tell him," I said, already knowing I'd be that someone.

"That's the bro code, Leo. Save him from himself."

I stood up, my rebellious hair bouncing with me, and crossed the cafeteria. Tyler was mid-story about something, his hands flying, spinachy grin on full display. Sarah was listening, looking increasingly pained.

"Hey man," I interrupted, pulling him aside. "You've got..."

His eyes went wide. He scrubbed at his teeth frantically with a napkin.

"Bro, why didn't you say something earlier?"

"I just noticed!" I lied. "Anyway, you coming to the baseball game today?"

"Obviously. I'm starting at shortstop today. Coach finally put me in."

This was news. Tyler had sat on the bench all last year, same as me. But graduation had decimated the varsity squad, and apparently Coach was shuffling the lineup.

"That's sick," I said, meaning it.

After school, the baseball field smelled like cut grass and possibility. I sat in the dugout, hair still rebelling against gravity, watching Tyler take his position. He looked different out there—confident, focused. When the first ball came his way, he snagged it cleanly and threw to first for the out. The small crowd cheered.

I caught myself smiling. Maybe tomorrow I'd work up the nerve to talk to that girl in my English class. Maybe my hair would actually behave for once. Maybe spinach incidents and strikeouts and bad hair days were just part of whatever this whole growing-up thing was supposed to be.

Tyler jogged off the field after the inning, grinning. Spinach-free, for once.

"You're up next, Leo," he said. "Don't overthink it."

I grabbed a bat, hair bouncing, heart pounding. Whatever. I'd figure it out.