The Mascot Dilemma

The sky opened up just as seventh inning stretch ended, dumping **water** on everyone like the universe was personally sabotaging my already awful week. I stood frozen on the pitcher's mound, my **hair** plastered to my forehead in what I'm sure was a tragic look — Coach Bennett called it 'determined,' but my crush Mia definitely saw 'drowned rat.'

"Game's called! Everyone to the dugout!" the ump shouted over thunder.

That's when I saw it. The Creekview High **baseball** team's mascot — a grown man in a sweaty **bear** costume — was sprinting toward the equipment shed. But the costume head was bouncing precariously, and the guy inside wasn't **running** so much as frantically stumbling.

The bear head flew off, revealing not some random dad, but Tyler Chen — senior, student council president, literally the last person anyone expected to be the team mascot. His perfectly gelled hair was ruined. His expression was pure horror.

I stood there, rain soaking my jersey, realizing Tyler Chen had the same secret I did: we were both trying to be people we weren't. Him playing the bear to prove school spirit. Me playing baseball because my dad lived vicariously through my fastball.

Our eyes locked. Something passed between us — the kind of understanding that only happens when you see someone stripped down to their embarrassing truth.

"Don't," Tyler mouthed, holding up his hands like he could physically stop me from speaking.

I grinned. "Nice moves, Bear Chen."

He closed his eyes, defeated. Then he smirked. "Your slider's garbage though."

"Fair." I laughed. "Hey, you think Mia saw?"

"She's taking pictures," Tyler said, nodding toward the dugout where Mia was indeed snapping photos with her phone, grinning. "She says your hair looks better wet."

I felt something shift inside — like maybe authenticity wasn't as terrifying as I'd thought. Maybe the real L wasn't in being exposed, but in never letting anyone see who you actually were.

"Trade secrets?" I asked. "I won't tell about the bear if you don't tell about my notebook of terrible poetry."

"Deal." Tyler grabbed the bear head. "Same time next Tuesday?"

"Wouldn't miss it."