Strikeout in the Rain

The baseball field lights hummed above us as I sat three rows up, trying to look casual. Emily was two seats down, laughing at something Tyler said, her hair perfect even in the sticky heat. I'd spent twenty minutes fixing my hair before leaving the house. Four hours later, I was just the guy in the third row who hadn't said a word.

"You want the rest of this?" Tyler tossed me a half-eaten container ofnachos. I caught it, trying to play it cool.

"Yeah, thanks." I took a bite and froze. Something green was stuck between my teeth. Spinach. From lunch. Seven hours ago.

I'd been walking around with spinach in my teeth all night while Emily was three seats away.

The sky opened up.

It wasn't gradual rain—it was like someone dumped a bucket of water over the entire stadium. People screamed and scrambled for cover. Emily grabbed Tyler's arm. I just sat there, spinach and all, watching water drip from the brim of my cap.

Then lightning cracked, close enough that you could feel it in your teeth.

"Everyone off the field!" the announcer yelled. "Take shelter NOW!"

We ended up squeezed under the concession stand overhang, twenty soaking teenagers pressed together. I ended up shoulder-to-shoulder with Emily. She was shivering.

"You have spinach in your teeth," she said.

The lightning flashed again. I saw her face clearly in that split second—she was smiling. Not laughing at me. Just... smiling.

"Yeah," I said. "I've had it all night. Too nervous to say anything to you, too scared to check a mirror."

Her eyes went wide. "You were nervous? To talk to ME?"

"Emily, I've been sitting behind you since sixth period. I just... I don't know. I'm not good at this stuff."

She laughed, and it wasn't mean. It was real. "Tyler was literally explaining fantasy baseball to me for forty minutes. I was hoping you'd say something. Anything."

The rain pounded down inches away. I took a breath.

"So," I said. "You want to get food tomorrow? Actual food. No spinach involved."

"Yes," she said. "A thousand times yes."

Tyler was still going on about stats somewhere behind us. I stood there with my soggy cap and spinach teeth, Emily pressed against my side, and realized sometimes the best things happen when everything goes completely wrong.

The storm passed. The game got called. I walked Emily to her dad's car, spinach and all. Tomorrow, I'd brush my teeth three times. Tonight, I had her number. That counted as a win.