Strikeouts and Spinach Teeth

My hair had never betrayed me before. Not until the morning of baseball tryouts, when I grabbed what I thought was my sister's conditioner and ended up with sticky, glittery glop instead. Now my formerly manageable brown hair looked like a disco ball had exploded on my head.

"You look... festive," my best friend Leo said when I climbed into his car, his goldfish named Swim Shady doing little laps in a bowl on the dashboard. Don't ask why he brought a fish to baseball tryouts. Leo operated on his own logic.

"Shut up. Did you bring the extra glove?"

"Yeah, but my dog ate my lucky socks this morning." Leo sighed dramatically. "Buster's got a thing for cotton. It's concerning."

We pulled up to the field where Coach Miller was already drilling the juniors. My stomach did that thing where it feels like your organs are rearranging themselves. Tryouts were everything this year—making varsity meant finally proving I wasn't just the quiet kid who sat in the back of pre-calc.

Then I saw Maya. She was stretching near the dugout, her hair in these perfect French braids that probably took actual talent and patience. She caught me staring and waved. I lifted a hand, feeling like the world's most awkward disco ball.

Lunch before tryouts had been a nightmare. The cafeteria served spinach—that wilted, sad kind that looks like it died three weeks ago—and of course I'd gotten a massive piece stuck in my braces. I'd spent twenty minutes in the bathroom trying to coax it out with my tongue while seventh graders stared. Now every time I smiled, I was paranoid.

"Alright, let's see what you've got!" Coach Miller yelled.

I stepped up to the plate, glitter practically raining from my hair with every movement. First pitch—swing and miss. Second pitch—foul tip that ricocheted off the backstop. The third pitch came in low and outside, and somehow I connected. The ball sailed into left field and kept going.

"RUN!" Leo screamed from the bench.

I booked it, rounding first base, my hair slapping me in the face. I slid into second, sparks flying everywhere, and looked up to find Maya actually smiling at me.

"Nice slide, Disco," she called out.

"Thanks," I managed, my heart hammering. Maybe the hair wasn't a complete disaster after all.

Then I remembered the spinach in my teeth.

Some days you just can't win.