The Fox in the Outfield

I was basically a zombie at the baseball game, which was pathetic considering I was actually supposed to be playing. Left field. The position they give you when they're hoping the ball never comes your way.

"You alive out there, Leo?" Kyle yelled from third base, cracking open another Monster. "Or did you finally die from studying too hard?"

"Very funny," I muttered, though honestly, I felt like I hadn't slept since finals week began. My iPhone buzzed in my pocket — probably Mom wondering why I wasn't home studying yet — but I ignored it. Some things were more important than AP Chem. Like not looking like an idiot in front of half the junior class.

The baseball sailed toward me in what I swear was slow motion, and I panicked. Completely forgot everything Coach Patterson had screamed at us about fundamentals and footwork. I lunged for it way too late, glove flailing like I was fighting invisible bees.

Missed by approximately a mile.

"My bad," I called out, face burning. "Lost it in the sun."

Even I knew that was lame. It was 7 PM.

That's when I saw it — a fox, darting out from behind the backstop, reddish-orange fur glowing under the field lights. It grabbed a discarded hot dog wrapper and bolted toward the woods like it was carrying pure gold.

"Did you see that?" I asked nobody in particular.

"See what?" This girl from my English class, Maya, was sitting near the fence, scrolling through her phone. She'd been there the whole game, probably live-tweeting our mediocre performance.

"A fox. Just stole a hot dog wrapper."

She looked up, actually looked at me, and grinned. "That's kind of iconic, honestly. Living its best life."

"Yeah," I found myself smiling back. "Way more interesting than this game."

"Everything is more interesting than this game," she said, pocketing her iPhone. "Hey, you want to get food? I'm starving and I'd rather not watch Kyle strike out again."

The baseball sat forgotten in the grass. The zombie feeling evaporated. I grabbed my glove and jogged toward the fence, feeling suddenly, ridiculously awake. "You know what? Me neither."

Sometimes the best moments aren't the ones you practice for. Sometimes they're the ones that sneak up on you like a fox in the outfield, wild and unexpected and way better than whatever game you thought you were supposed to be playing.