The Hat, The Cat, The Everything

Maya adjusted the brim of her snapback for the tenth time, nervous energy buzzing through her like she'd chugged five espressos. This was it — her first actual hangout with Leo, the cute sophomore who'd finally noticed her after two months of her "accidentally" walking past his locker.

"You good?" Leo asked, gesturing toward the baseball diamond where his team was warming up. "You look like you're about to puke."

"I'm good!" Maya squeaked. Too loud. Great start.

Leo's dog — some chaotic golden retriever mix — chose that moment to bound over and plant muddy paws directly on Maya's white jeans.

"Buster! No!" Leo groaned, but Maya was already laughing, wiping at the mud streaks. "It's cool, really. I needed more dirt in my aesthetic anyway."

Leo's face relaxed into that half-smile that made her stomach do flips. "You're weird, Maya. I like that."

They settled in the bleachers, but before Maya could get too comfortable, a calico cat appeared out of nowhere, jumping onto her lap like it owned her. The cat batted at her hat brim, knocking it askew.

"Okay, what is with today?" Maya laughed, adjusting the hat while the cat purred like a tiny motor.

"That's Mrs. Higgins' cat," Leo said. "She thinks she's the queen of the park." He held out his palm, and the cat actually sniffed it, then head-butted his hand. "Traitor," he whispered, grinning.

The baseball game happened around them — Leo's team won, something about a bottom of the ninth rally that had everyone screaming — but Maya was stuck on something else. Something way more important than sports scores.

"Your hands," she blurted as they walked toward the ice cream truck afterward. "You have baseball calluses. Like, actual ones. Not just 'I play for fun' ones."

Leo shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. "Used to think I was gonna go pro. Then freshman year happened, and I realized I liked playing more than I liked the pressure. So I kept the hands, lost the dream."

He held out his palm again, like he had for the cat. "What about you? What's your thing?"

Maya thought about her hat, now tilted at just the right angle. About the mud on her jeans, the cat fur on her sweater, the way Leo looked at her like she was actually interesting.

"I'm figuring it out," she said, and for the first time all day, her voice didn't shake. "But I think it might involve wearing hats I'm afraid to wear, and hanging out with guys whose dogs attack me."

Leo laughed. "Deal."