The Bull Who Caught Feelings

Maya's stomach did backflips as she leaned against the chain-link fence, clutching her orange Gatorade like a lifeline. First high school baseball game, first time seeing Lucas without his varsity jacket, first time realizing her palms could actually sweat this much.

"You're blocking the view," some freshman muttered behind her. Maya shifted, accidentally knocking her drink into the dirt. Orange splash everywhere. Great. Perfect.

That's when she noticed the bull —aka Tyler, this massive sophomore who looked like he'd been held back twice and definitely bench-pressed cars for fun. He was walking right toward her, and Maya's brain immediately supplied her social death: he's gonna make her clean it up. In front of everyone. In front of Lucas, who was currently warming up near the dugout, looking stupidly cute in his baseball uniform.

But Tyler just nodded at the spill. "Rough inning?"

Maya blinked. "Something like that."

"My brother's dog does that," Tyler said. "Knocks stuff over. Acts like he owns the place." He pulled a folded paper towel from his pocket — who carries paper towels? — and dropped it beside her. "Field hockey mom prep. I'm ready for anything."

The unexpected kindness hit harder than Tyler could ever physically hit anyone. Maya crouched to clean, heart pounding less from anxiety and more from... weirdly, hope?

"You're Maya, right? Algebra's torture chamber?"

She nodded. "You're Tyler. The bull everyone's scared of."

"The bull?" He actually laughed. "Nah. That's just game face. I'm actually running a dog walking business. Got three clients, looking for more. You got a dog?"

Maya stood up, orange Gatorade mostly gone. "A golden retriever. Chaos incarnate."

"Perfect. I'll give you my card." Tyler pulled a crumpled business card from his wallet. "And hey —" he nodded toward Lucas, who was up to bat now, "if baseball boy doesn't work out, I know some people who throw way better parties."

Lucas struck out swinging.

Tyler caught her eye. "Told you. Game face."

Maya's phone buzzed in her pocket. Unknown number: *Hey it's Tyler from the game. My sister needs algebra tutoring. You interested?*

She typed back: *Only if you teach me how to actually throw a baseball.*

*Deal. And bring the dog.*

The orange sunset painted the sky as Maya walked home, running through tomorrow's possibilities. Maybe the bull wasn't so scary after all. Maybe real connections weren't found on the pedestal where she'd put Lucas, but in the unexpected kindness of strangers. And maybe — just maybe — high school wouldn't be as terrible as she thought.