The Cat in Left Field

Maya's palms were sweating before she even stepped through the gate. The Miller twins' pool party was already in full swing—music thumping, people splashing, the smell of coconut sunscreen everywhere. She'd practiced what to say in her mirror for twenty minutes before leaving her house. Casual. Chill. Not desperate.

But now, standing here in her one-piece while everyone else seemed to have bikinis and confidence she didn't know existed, Maya felt like she'd wandered into the wrong movie.

"Maya! You made it!" Jordan Miller waved from the pool, dripping wet. His hair was that perfect messy that probably took product. "Cannonball contest in five!"

She managed a smile and a thumbs up. Her palms were actually sweating. Like, gross, embarrassing amounts.

Then came the crack of a bat from next door.

Some kid in the Millers' backyard had grabbed a baseball from somewhere and tossed it way too hard. The ball sailed over the fence, landing with a soft thump in the neighbors' pristine flowerbeds.

"My bad!" the kid yelled. "Someone's gotta get that before Mr. Henderson notices."

Everyone looked at everyone else. Maya found herself raising her hand before her brain could intervene. "I'll get it."

She slipped through the side gate and into the neighbor's yard. No ball. Just flowers and—

A cat. A massive orange cat sitting on a garden wall, tail flicking, watching her like she was the intruder here. The baseball was nestled beside its paw like a weird offering.

Maya approached slowly. "Hey, kitty. That's not yours."

The cat blinked. Slow, deliberate judgment.

"You're judging me, aren't you?" Maya whispered, sinking to sit on the grass. "I'm wearing a one-piece to a pool party. I came over here to get a baseball because I didn't want to swim. I'm seventeen and I've never had a boyfriend."

The cat head-butted her hand. Its fur was impossibly soft.

"You're cool though," Maya said, scratching behind its ears. "You don't care what anyone thinks. You just sit here being orange and judgmental."

Behind her, someone cleared their throat.

Jordan stood by the gate, baseball cap in hand. "Mr. Henderson's cat hates everyone. Seriously, I've lived next door for ten years and he's never let anyone pet him."

Maya looked down. The orange cat was now purring against her leg like they'd been friends forever.

"Huh," she said. "Guess we're both surprising."

Jordan grinned. "Yeah. Hey, you wanna help me accidentally hit another ball over here? This cat seems way cooler than my pool anyway."