Sweaty Palms and Curveballs

The goldfish was definitely dying. I could tell by the way Floatie Bob kept doing that weird spiraling thing at the top of the bowl, like he was trying to figure out the meaning of life but couldn't quite get there.

"You're gonna be late for baseball practice," Mom called from downstairs. "And remember to feed your sister's fish before you leave!"

"Already did!" I lied, grabbing my backpack and checking my reflection in the hallway mirror. Why did my hair always look like I'd just rolled out of bed? I ran a hand through it, probably making it worse.

Practice was. That's it. Just was.

Coach Miller kept yelling stuff about "hustle" and "dedication" but I was mostly thinking about how Kaitlyn was watching from the bleachers. She'd started sitting there last week, always with her sketchbook, drawing something she wouldn't show anyone. My palms kept sweating every time I looked over at her.

"Rodriguez! You're up!" Coach hollered.

I stepped into the batter's box, my heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to escape my chest. The pitcher wound up, threw something that looked like a curveball, and I swung so hard I almost spun myself into the ground. Strikeout. Kaitlyn didn't even look up from her sketchbook.

After practice, everyone was heading toward the parking lot when I saw it—a flash of orange near the woods behind the baseball field. A fox. Just standing there, watching us like we were the weird ones.

"Yo, you see that?" Marcus asked, coming up beside me. "That's legit."

The fox's eyes met mine, and something about it felt strangely personal. Like it knew something I didn't.

"My goldfish is dying," I found myself saying. Why? No clue. Maybe because the fox looked like the kind of creature that would keep secrets.

Marcus blinked. "Damn. That's rough, bro."

"Yeah. But I think I'm more nervous about talking to Kaitlyn than about Floatie Bob's existential crisis."

Marcus laughed. "You're overthinking it. Just go talk to her. She's been drawing you at practice for like three days straight."

Wait. What?

I turned back. Kaitlyn was still there, and this time she looked up. Our eyes locked, and suddenly my palms weren't sweating anymore. The fox slipped into the woods, and I started walking toward the bleachers, leaving Floatie Bob's spiral dance behind me.

Some things you can't fix. But some things? Those are just waiting for you to show up.