The Orange Crush Summer

Marcus stood at the plate, the baseball bat feeling like a lead pipe in his sweaty hands. The summer heat radiated off the pavement, and he could practically hear everyone's thoughts: *Why's the new kid batting cleanup?*

He'd moved to Oak Creek three weeks ago—right after the incident that made him a social pariah at his old school. His mom had given him that lecture about 'bearing burdens with grace,' but Marcus wasn't feeling graceful. He felt like he was wearing his anxiety like a neon sign.

'You gonna stand there all day, new kid?' yelled Tyler from the pitcher's mound, egging on the rest of the team. They'd already nicknamed him 'Orange Crush' because of that one time he'd spilled Fanta all over his white jeans on his second day.

The pitch came—high and outside. Marcus swung anyway, his bat connecting with nothing but air. The laughter erupted before he'd even recovered his balance.

'Swing and a beauty!' someone hollered.

Marcus's face burned hotter than the asphalt. That's when he noticed it: a massive black bear emerging from the woods beyond left field, drawn by the scent of the concession stand's dumpster.

The laughter died. Every single person on the field froze—Marcus, Tyler, the entire baseball team. The bear reared up, sniffing the air, and suddenly this terrifying, magnificent creature was the only thing that mattered.

'RUN!' Marcus screamed, but nobody moved. They were paralyzed.

So he bolted toward the bear, waving his arms and yelling at the top of his lungs. The bear dropped to all fours and scrambled back into the woods. Marcus turned around, chest heaving, to find twenty-something guys staring at him like he'd grown a second head.

'That,' Tyler said slowly, 'was the most badass thing I've ever seen.'

Marcus didn't become best friends with everyone that day. The awkwardness didn't magically disappear. But as the team walked toward him, someone tossing him a Gatorade (not orange, thankfully), Marcus realized something: sometimes you have to face the bear to find out who you actually are.

And maybe, just maybe, orange wasn't such a bad color to own after all.