The Day I Quit Everything

The baseball trophy sat on my shelf like a ghost of who I used to be. MVP, sophomore year. Back when life made sense. Now? Now I was just some guy who walked around feeling like a zombie, drowning in AP classes and college apps and everyone asking what I wanted to do with my life.

"Leo, take your vitamin," Mom called from the kitchen. "It's got omega-3s. Good for your brain."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, pocketing the gummy she'd left on the counter. Like a chewable vitamin was gonna fix my existential crisis.

At school, everyone was suddenly obsessed with padel. It was this racquet sport that looked like tennis shrunk down and put in a cage. Maya had dragged me to the club yesterday after school, and somehow I'd agreed to play again today. Because that's what you do when the girl you've had a crush on since seventh grade asks you to do something.

The padel courts were packed. Kids from school everywhere, laughing, swinging racquets, acting like this was the most important thing in the world.

"You coming?" Maya asked, already holding a racquet.

"Yeah," I said. But something stopped me.

I stood there watching them all. The competitive kids who turned everything into a tournament. The ones who'd played travel baseball with me since we were ten, now acting like padel was their whole personality. And I realized—I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to do any of it.

"Actually," I said, "I gotta go."

Maya looked confused. "We just got here."

"I know. I just... I forgot something."

What had I forgotten? Myself, maybe.

I walked home instead, passing the arcade where I'd won that goldfish at freshman homecoming. The fish had lasted three days. At the time, I'd felt like a failure. Now I wondered if that fish had the right idea—live your weird little life, swim in circles, refuse to perform for anyone.

The baseball trophy was still on my shelf when I got home. I picked it up, walked to the trash can, and dropped it in.

Then I called Coach Rodriguez and quit the team.

Then I ate the vitamin gummy, because whatever.

Then I picked up my guitar, which I hadn't touched in two years, and played until my fingers hurt.

Maya texted: everything ok?

I thought about it. For the first time in forever, actually yeah.