Sweaty Palms & Secret Eyes

Leo's palms were sweating. Again. He wiped them on his jeans—third time in two minutes—and tried to look casual leaning against the chain-link fence behind the school's baseball field.

"You're being so weird," Maya said, not looking up from her phone. She'd been saying this a lot lately, ever since middle school decided to hit everyone like a freight train of braces, growth spurts, and suddenly impossible social rules.

"I'm not being weird," Leo lied. "I'm just... observing."

"You're literally being a baseball spy right now." Maya finally glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. "Just text him already."

Him. Tyler. The new kid who'd transferred from somewhere cooler than this town, who'd made varsity as a freshman, who'd smiled at Leo in algebra last Tuesday and now Leo's entire personality had rearranged itself around three seconds of eye contact.

Leo couldn't just *text him*. That was what normal people did. Confident people. People whose hands didn't betray them every time they tried to function like a human being.

Tyler stepped up to the plate. The crack of the bat echoed across the field. A line drive, straight into center field. Leo's stomach did something complicated.

"Oh my GOD," Maya groaned. "You have it so bad."

"Shhh! He'll hear you."

"Leo, you're literally twenty feet away behind a fence. You think you're being subtle but you're giving off major—"

Tyler looked over.

Leo's palms went from sweaty to full-on disaster. His brain offered up several escape routes: fake a seizure, pretend Maya was telling a joke, spontaneous combustion.

Instead, Tyler jogged over, baseball cleats clanking against the dirt. "Hey."

"Hey," Leo squeaked. Cleared his throat. "Hey."

"You coming to tryouts tomorrow?" Tyler asked, like this was a normal thing that happened to normal people.

"I don't... play."

"Never too late." Tyler's grin did something unfair to Leo's cardiovascular system. "Coach needs a left fielder. You've got that vibe."

"What vibe?"

"The 'secretly watches baseball practice but pretends not to' vibe." Tyler winked—actually winked, like this was a movie and Leo was the main character instead of background extras in his own life. "See you tomorrow."

As Tyler jogged back to his team, Maya smacked Leo's arm. "DID YOU HEAR HIM? DID YOU HEAR—"

"I heard him, Maya!"

Leo wiped his palms on his jeans one more time. They were still shaking. But for the first time all week, it wasn't just from nerves.