The Baseball Field Sphinx

Leo sat in the bleachers, his fingers tapping nervously against the cracked **iPhone** screen. Maya was three rows down, laughing with her friends, her bright smile making his chest feel weirdly tight. He'd been crushing on her since algebra started three weeks ago, but he'd barely managed more than ahey what's up in the hallway.

The **baseball** game droned on below—some JV matchup nobody really cared about—but the real action was happening in the stands. Well, not happening. That was the problem.

"You gonna actually talk to her, or just stare at your phone all day?" Jordan plopped down beside him, crunching popcorn obnoxiously loud.

"I'm working up to it," Leo muttered. "And I'm not staring at my phone. I'm checking if she texted back."

"Bro, you sent that text like two hours ago. If she hasn't replied, she's not gonna."

Leo groaned and dropped his head into his hands. The text had been simple—hey, sitting near you at the game, wanna hang out afterwards?—but now it felt like the most embarrassing thing ever. Why did he have to be so awkward?

Then, disaster struck. The giant speakers mounted above the field crackled with static, then blared out that horrible feedback squeal that makes everyone's ears want to bleed. The announcer's voice cut in and out, choppy and distorted."*...next inning...* [static] *...home team...*" A loose **cable** dangled from one of the speakers, swaying in the breeze.

Perfect. Just perfect. Now even the universe was conspiring against him.

"Maybe she didn't see it?" Jordan offered, suddenly helpful. "Her phone could be dead or whatever."

"Yeah, right."

But then Maya turned around. She spotted him, smiled, and—holy crap—she was walking toward him. Leo's heart hammered against his ribs. This was it. She was gonna tell him she thought he was a loser and that his text was weird and—

"Hey Leo!" She stopped at his row, tilting her head slightly sideways. Her expression was unreadable, mysterious as a **sphinx**, and Leo had no idea what she was thinking. "Is this seat taken?"

"What? Uh, no. I mean, yes, it's not taken. You can sit. If you want."

Smooth. Real smooth.

But Maya just laughed and sat down. "Sorry I didn't text back earlier," she said, pulling out her own phone. "My mom made me leave it at home as punishment. Grounded for failing that history test."

Oh. OH.

"So... you wanted to hang out?" Leo dared to hope.

"Definitely." Maya's smile widened. "But fair warning—I'm terrible at baseball. Like, can't-catch-anything terrible."

"That's okay," Leo said, feeling something warm bloom in his chest. "I'm terrible at texting, so... we're even."