The Bear in the Outfield

Marcus—they called him Bear because of that time in seventh grade when he hibernated through winter break—stood in center field, picking at the split ends of his blue-dyed hair. The spring sun baked his neck. Tryouts for the varsity baseball team.

"Bear! Heads up!" someone yelled.

A ball arced through the sky. Bear didn't move. He was too busy watching Chloe Rodriguez lean against the backstop, her phone aimed at the dugout. She'd been acting weird all week, showing up to practice with no equipment, just tapping away at her screen like she was conducting some kind of operation.

Thwack. The ball landed five feet away.

"You good, man?" TJ asked, trotting over. "You've been spacing out all week."

"Yeah. Fine." Bear adjusted his cap. "Just thinking."

"About Chloe?" TJ grinned. "Everyone knows she's--"

"Shh." Bear held up a hand. "I'm gonna talk to her."

He jogged toward the backstop, heart doing that stupid flutter thing it always did when she was near. Up close, he could see she was crying. Not full-on sobbing, but her eyes were red-rimmed, her mascara smudged.

"Chloe? You okay?"

She jumped. "Bear! I didn't see you there." She quickly locked her phone. "I'm fine. Just... allergies."

"You don't have allergies."

She sighed. "Okay, fine. I've been taking pictures of the team. For the yearbook spread. And I kept getting shots of you, and I didn't think you'd want those, so I was deleting them--"

"Why wouldn't I want photos of me?"

"Because you always hide whenever there's a camera!" Chloe laughed, wiping her eyes. "Last year's team picture, you basically disappeared behind the equipment cart. I figured you were camera-shy."

Bear felt his face heat up. "That's because my mom made me get that haircut--"

"The buzz cut?" Chloe smiled. "Yeah, I remember. You looked like you wanted to die."

"I kind of did." Bear tugged self-consciously at his now-shaggy hair. "So you're not... spying on me?"

"Ew, no. I'm not a creep." She showed him her camera roll. "See? Yearbook stuff. Coach said we need more action shots."

There were dozens of photos—of everyone. But when she got to the ones of Bear, his stomach did a flip. In them, he wasn't hiding. He was mid-swing, glove extended, blue hair flying. He looked... not terrible.

"You're actually really good," Chloe said softly. "I mean, I don't know anything about baseball, but you look like you know what you're doing."

"Thanks." Bear swallowed. "Hey, after practice, you want to... I don't know, get food?"

Chloe's smile widened. "I'd like that."

"BEAR!" Coach bellowed. "You're up next!"

"Coming!" Bear jogged back to the field, grinning like an idiot. TJ gave him a thumbs-up. For the first time all season, the baseball didn't feel like a weight in his hands. It felt like a beginning.