Summer of Curveballs

Marcus adjusted his cap, staring at the chain-link fence. First week at baseball camp and he already felt like an imposter. The other guys talked about varsity letters and recruiting scouts like they were discussing the weather.

"You gonna stand there all day?" A girl with electric-blue hair leaned against the dugout, tossing something bright orange in one hand. "Try this."

"What is it?"

"Papaya. My mom's obsessed with 'exotic antioxidants' or whatever." She grinned. "I'm Jordan. You're the new guy who almost took out the backstop during batting practice."

Heat crept up Marcus's neck. "Yeah. That was me."

"Don't stress it. Last year, I tripped over my own bat." She held out the fruit. "First time's always weird. Then it's actually pretty good."

Marcus took a bite. Sweet, musky, completely unlike anything he'd ever tasted. "Not bad."

"See? Growth mindset." Jordan winked. "Anyway, I saw you feeding that stray cat behind the equipment shed."

"He just showed up. I named him Slider."

"Slider." Jordan laughed. "Of course you did." She checked her phone. "Ugh. My brother's been trying to stream his game but the cable's been out since the storm. He's losing his mind."

"Tell him to come hang out here. We've got decent Wi-Fi in the main lodge."

"You'd let him? You don't even know us."

Marcus shrugged. "We're all stuck here together for six weeks. Might as well."

Something shifted in Jordan's expression—like she hadn't expected him to say that. Then she grinned, really grinned. "Cool. Actually, really cool."

Later that night, Marcus couldn't sleep. He slipped outside, Slider trailing him through the shadows. The moon illuminated the tree line at the edge of camp, and something massive moved between the pines.

Marcus froze.

A bear—actual freaking bear—lumbered into view, nose testing the air. Twenty yards away. His heart hammered against his ribs. Slowly, so slowly, he backed toward the cabin, Slider pressed against his legs.

The bear watched him with ancient, unreadable eyes, then turned and melted back into the forest.

Marcus exhaled, shivering.

Next morning at practice, Jordan found him staring toward the woods. "You okay? You look like you saw a ghost."

"Better."

Marcus stepped up to the plate. Something about the papaya, the cat, the bear, Jordan's smile—it all clicked into place. He wasn't the same kid who'd walked onto this field a week ago.

The pitch came. Marcus swung.

Perfect connection. The ball soared into the gap as he took off running, finally, finally, feeling like he belonged.