The Night Everything Changed

My hair was a disaster—again. I'd spent forty-five minutes trying to get that perfect messy-textured look, but the humidity had other plans. Now it hung in limp strings around my face, basically announcing to everyone at Tyler's pool party that I was the same awkward freshman I'd been last year.

"Yo, Marcus! You gonna stand there all night or actually get in?" Tyler called from the pool, splashing water in my general direction. His polo shirt—seriously, who wore polo shirts to pool parties?—was already soaked through.

I was about to mutter some excuse about forgetting my trunks when I spotted Lily. She was sitting on the pool edge, her legs in the water, laughing at something Jake was saying. Jake, who'd started varsity baseball as a sophomore. Jake, whose hair actually looked good messy.

My stomach did that thing where it felt like someone had released a goldfish inside it—fluttery and wrong and kind of nauseating. I'd been crushing on Lily since seventh grade, and the only thing I'd ever managed to say to her was "Nice backpack" which she'd probably forgotten in three seconds.

"Hey!" Someone shouted behind me. "They're doing baseball trivia over by the palm tree! Winner gets first dibs on pizza!"

Perfect. I knew everything about baseball. This was my chance.

I marched over, heart pounding, and absolutely crushed it. "1927 Yankees," I said confidently. "Mickey Mantle's rookie year was 1951. No-hitter in his fourth start." People were actually looking at me, impressed.

But then Lily walked over, water dripping from her hair, and said, "Wait, wasn't Mantle already in the league before '51?" She wasn't being mean about it, just curious, but my face burned hotter than the summer sun.

"Yeah, actually, you're right," I managed, my voice cracking. "Different year."

She grinned. "You're pretty smart about baseball though. My brother plays, I pick stuff up."

We ended up talking for an hour. About baseball, about how weird high school was, about how she'd once accidentally killed her classroom's goldfish by overfeeding it. The fluttery goldfish feeling in my stomach was still there, but different now. Better.

When my mom picked me up, I caught my reflection in the car window. My hair was still a disaster, but for the first time, I didn't care.