Summer Lightning

My hair was doing that thing again — the frizz explosion that happened every time humidity hit above 60%. Which meant every day this July. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, my curling iron poised like a weapon, while my dad's golden retriever, Buster, scratched at the door, ready for our morning run.

"Chill, Buster," I muttered, but my hands were already shaking. Not because of the hair disaster — okay, partly because of the hair disaster — but mostly because of what happened at the baseball field yesterday.

I'd finally worked up the nerve to talk to Marcus, the pitcher with the arm like a cannon and the smile that made my stomach do actual gymnastics. I'd walked up to him after practice, my curly hair springing every which way, said something that was supposed to be "Hey, nice game," but came out more like "HAY NICE GAME YOU'RE REALLY GOOD AT SPORTS STUFF."

He'd just looked at me, confused, and I'd bolted. Smooth.

Mom was already in the kitchen when I finally let Buster out. "Morning, sweetheart! Try this papaya I got from the farmer's market. It's supposed to be amazing for your skin." She held out a bowl of what looked like orange alien insides.

"Pass," I said, grabbing a granola bar instead.

"Maya, your skin is beautiful. You're beautiful." She sighed, leaning against the counter. "But I understand. At your age, everything feels like the end of the world."

She had no idea. The real end of the world would be at 4 PM when I had to show my face at the field again.

By the time afternoon practice rolled around, the air was thick enough to chew. Storm clouds gathered like bruises on the horizon. Coach had us running drills when the first crack of lightning split the sky — closer than usual.

"Everyone inside, now!" Coach hollered.

I made a dash for the dugout, but something caught my eye. Marcus was still out there, gathering equipment. Another lightning strike hit somewhere close, making the hair on my arms stand up. I didn't think. I just ran.

"Hey!" I yelled over the thunder. "Leave it! We need to go!"

He looked up, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead, and for a second we just stared at each other. Then he grinned, grabbed the last bat, and we both sprinted for the covered area.

We made it just as the sky opened up. Drenched, out of breath, and laughing like idiots.

"You saved my life," Marcus said, wiping rain from his eyes. "Well, you saved the team's equipment. Same difference."

"Maya," I said, my heart pounding for a completely different reason now. "I'm Maya."

"I know," he said, and something about the way he said it made my frizzy hair feel a little less catastrophic. "Hey, you want to grab some food after this? There's this place downtown with really smooth papaya smoothies."

I smiled as thunder rumbled overhead, closer this time. "I'd love that."