Sweating Palms

Maya's palms were sweating so much her iPhone almost slipped from her grip. Three missed texts from Kai. Three ignored calls. She'd spent forty-five minutes on her hair—curling it perfectly, then frantically straightening it when her best friend said it looked 'trying too hard.' Now it hung dead straight, her usual natural waves defeated by heat and anxiety.

The baseball field lights blazed against the purple twilight sky. Tonight was it. The night she'd finally tell him. After three months of texting, emoji-filled conversations that stretched past midnight, and that one time their hands brushed when he reached for the same nacho at lunch. This wasn't just a baseball game. This was everything.

'You good?' Jayden asked, dropping onto the bleacher beside her. 'You look like you're about to puke.'

'Me? No. I'm chill. Totally chill.' Her voice cracked. Jaydan raised an eyebrow but said nothing, just tapped away on his own phone. The social pyramid of sophomore year had been brutal lately—one popularity tier dropped, another climbed, and somehow she'd landed in this weird in-between space where Kai, the star pitcher, actually noticed her.

Kai waved from the pitcher's mound. Maya's heart did this stupid fluttery thing. She raised her hand in what she hoped looked casual, not desperate.

Her phone buzzed. Unknown number.

'Saw you at the game. You look different with straight hair. Nice though. —T'

T. Tyler. The guy she'd matched with on that app her friends dared her to download, then deleted when it felt sketchy. How did he get her number? The stands suddenly felt exposed. Every ping, every vibration felt like eyes on her.

Kai pitched. Strikeout. The crowd roared.

Maya's phone pinged again. Then again.

'Turn around.' — T

'Which one are you?' — T

'Your hair looks expensive.' — T

Her hands shook. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not tonight. Not when everything was finally falling into place with Kai. Why did the universe insist on making everything feel like a cruel joke?

'Block him,' Jayden said, reading her screen. 'Block everyone you don't know. Reset your whole social media if you have to.' He sounded like he'd given this advice before.

Maya stared at the screen, at the messages, at Kai on the field living his best life while she sat frozen by some random guy who wouldn't leave her alone. Her straight hair felt like a costume. The whole night felt like a costume.

She blocked the number. She typed out a message to Kai—'good luck out there'—and sent it before she could overthink. Her phone didn't explode. The world didn't end.

When Kai finally struck out the final batter, he looked right at her and grinned. Whatever happened next, whatever tonight was supposed to be, at least she'd survived this part. Small wins.

Her palms were finally dry.