Strikeout in the Storm

The pressure was worse than the humidity. I stood at home plate, sweat dripping down my back, knowing every single person at **baseball** practice was watching. Being the only girl on the team meant everything I did got magnified. Like, guys could strike out and everyone would be like "whatever," but if I did? It became A Thing. A whole narrative about how girls don't belong on the field.

"You got this, Maya!" my best friend Jordan yelled from the bleachers. His voice was supportive, but I heard the doubt underneath. We both knew I'd been in a slump for three weeks straight.

I raised the bat, focused on the pitcher – who also happened to be my crush, because the universe obviously hated me – and prepared to swing.

Then chaos erupted.

My **dog** Buster, who'd been chilling under the bleachers like he owned the place, suddenly went nuts. Barking like he'd seen a ghost, he bolted onto the field, chasing – was that a squirrel? A butterfly? No time to think. He was tearing toward the outfield at full speed.

"Buster!" I dropped my bat and took off **running**, my cleats digging into the dirt. Half the team started laughing. The other half started shouting. I could feel my face burning hotter than the summer air.

A crack of **lightning** split the sky above us. Thunder shook the ground. Coach blew his whistle – everyone inside, NOW, because what even was this day?

But Buster was still booking it toward the woods beyond the outfield fence. I couldn't just let him disappear. My parents would literally kill me.

"I'll get him!" I yelled, sprinting past the parked cars, past where everyone was diving for cover. The rain started pouring – just my luck, right?

I found Buster about thirty feet into the trees. He'd cornered something against a tree. Something that was definitely not a squirrel.

A **bear** cub.

"Buster, NO," I whispered, grabbing his collar and slowly backing away. My heart was hammering so hard I thought it might explode. Where there was a cub, there was...

A low growl came from behind us.

I don't think I've ever moved that fast in my life. We hauled it back to the field, sliding in the mud, rain plastering my hair to my face, Buster yelping the whole way.

When we finally burst back onto the field, soaked and muddy and terrified, everyone just stared. I thought they'd laugh. I thought they'd make fun of me.

Instead, Tyler (yes, my crush Tyler) just said, "That was actually kinda badass."

Jordan gave me a fist bump. "You just outran a mama bear. You're not scared of anything, are you?"

Maybe they were right. I'd faced down a literal bear, dealt with my chaotic dog, and survived total embarrassment all in one afternoon. Suddenly, striking out didn't seem so scary anymore.

"Okay," I said, wiping mud from my face. "Can we redo practice? I feel like I can handle anything now."