Strikeout at Sunset

Maya's iPhone buzzed with another Insta story from the cool kids—bonfire tonight at the beach. She'd been ghosting their invites since freshman year. Why would this time be different?

She clicked it off, staring at the ceiling where her cat, Pumpkin, did their nightly ritual of walking across her stomach like a prideful lion. Pumpkin was basically her only real friend these days. Not that she was bitter or anything.

"Nice relay today, Martinez." Her phone lit up—Ryan, the baseball team's catcher. They'd barely spoken since that disastrous lab partnership in September where she'd accidentally set off the fire alarm.

Maya's thumbs hovered. Ryan was gorgeous in that annoyingly effortless way. Also completely out of her league. But something about his message felt different—not sarcastic like the other jocks.

"Thanks," she typed back. "Your pitching was solid too."

"Wanna play catch tomorrow? I need someone who can actually catch."

Maya's heart did that stupid fluttery thing. She'd played baseball with her dad until he got deployed. Now her glove gathered dust in the closet.

But instead of overthinking it into oblivion, she sent: "7th period. Behind the gym."

The next day, Ryan was already there, spinning a baseball in one hand like he'd been born holding one. That devastating crooked grin when she walked up. The way his eyes actually focused on her, not through her.

"Your form's weird, Martinez," he called after she threw.

"Excuse me?"

"Weird good. Like you're not trying to show off."

They played until the sun painted everything orange and gold, talking about nothing and everything at once. Ryan confessed he was failing English. Maya admitted she'd rather take a math test than give another presentation.

When his phone buzzed—"yo, where you at? bonfire's starting"—he ignored it.

"You coming?" he asked, all casual like it wasn't the biggest social event of the month.

Maya thought about Pumpkin waiting at home, her phone full of unread notifications, the way she'd spent three years watching from the sidelines.

"Yeah," she said. "But I'm driving."

Ryan's laugh was the best sound she'd heard in forever. "Deal."

Her iPhone stayed dark in her pocket the whole drive there.