The Bad Hair Curveball

Maya's mom thought chopping her waist-length hair into a pixie cut was a great idea. Maya thought it looked like someone had put a bowl on her head and gone to town with scissors.

"It's just hair, it grows back," her best friend Leo said, like that made walking into sophomore year looking like a completely different person any less terrifying.

Now Maya was hiding in the girls' bathroom before first period, debating whether a hat was committing social suicide or just pre-emptive damage control.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Leo: Baseball tryouts after school. Coach said he's watching.

Right. The one thing Maya actually cared about this year — making varsity as a sophomore. She'd been practicing her swing all summer, hitting against the old oak tree in her backyard until her hands blistered. Her dad kept promising they'd get to the batting cages soon. They never did.

Maya touched her newly-short hair in the mirror. Whatever. She pulled her cap low and headed to class.

After school, the baseball field smelled like cut grass and teenage boy sweat. Maya adjusted her grip on the bat, trying to look like she belonged. Coach Miller was watching with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

First pitch: swing and a miss. Second: foul tip. Third: solid connection to left field. But her fourth at-bat, something caught her eye in the woods beyond the fence.

A dog. No, bigger. A bear cub, darting between the trees, alone and looking scared.

"Hey!" Maya called out, forgetting all about baseball. The bear cub froze. "It's okay, little guy."

She climbed over the fence, ignoring Coach Miller yelling something about safety and liability. The cub was tangled in some fishing line, its paw caught. Maya's hands shook as she worked the knots free, murmuring soft reassurances the way she did with her neighbor's dog when she pet-sat.

"You're brave," a voice said behind her.

Maya jumped. It was Cassie, the catcher from varsity, leaning against the fence, watching.

The bear cub, now free, scrambled toward the trees where a larger bear — its mom — waited. They disappeared into the woods together.

"Your hat fell off," Cassie said. "Your hair's actually really cute like that."

Maya's face burned. She grabbed her cap, but Cassie's easy smile made her pause.

"You're pretty brave too," Cassie added. "Not everyone would climb a fence for a bear. Want to practice with us sometime?"

Maya touched her short hair again. Maybe it wasn't so bad. Maybe sophomore year wouldn't be terrible after all.

"Yeah," she said. "I'd like that."