Swing and a Miss

Marcus wiped his sweating palms on his shorts for the third time. The backyard party was everything he usually avoided—too many people, too much noise, way too many opportunities to embarrass himself.

"Yo Marcus, come over here!" His older brother Jay gestured from the picnic table. "Maya's here, remember her? From baseball camp last summer?"

Marcus's heart did that stupid flutter thing. Maya. The one who'd somehow made throwing a pitch look like an art form while he was busy getting hit in the face with a line drive.

He pulled out his iphone, pretending to check something important. Just a distraction technique. His finger hovered over his crush's name in his contacts—still just saved as "Maya (baseball)" like that wasn't pathetic.

"Hey!" She appeared beside him, grinning. "Long time no see."

"Yeah," he managed, his voice cracking. Great start.

"Try this fruit, it's insane." She held out a plate with papaya chunks. "My mom's obsessed with tropical stuff lately."

He took a bite. "Actually not terrible."

"Right?" She laughed, and he felt himself relaxing. Maybe this wouldn't be a disaster.

They talked for twenty minutes about everything and nothing—school, the terrible baseball season their team had had, how weird it was that they were sophomores now. Marcus was almost enjoying himself until he caught his reflection in the sliding glass door.

A massive piece of spinach was stuck between his front teeth.

From the spinach dip he'd nervously eaten earlier.

THAT HE'D BEEN TALKING WITH FOR THE LAST TWENTY MINUTES.

"I gotta—" he mumbled, speed-walking toward the bathroom.

"Marcus, wait—" Maya started, but he was already gone.

In the bathroom, he stared at himself in the mirror. Humiliated. That was it. He'd never recover.

His iphone buzzed. Unknown number: "Hey. This is Maya. Jay gave me your number. Just wanted to say—tonight was actually really fun. Even with the spinach situation 😂"

Marcus stared at the screen. Then he smiled. Maybe being a teenager wasn't about being perfect. Maybe it was about the moments that made you want to hide under your bed—the ones that eventually became funny stories.

He texted back: "Tomorrow? Same place, less spinach?"

"Deal."