The Orange Peel Luck

Leo's hands shook as he peeled the orange in the dugout, the citrus scent cutting through the thick tension of tryouts. His older brother had been the baseball star at North Valley High. Now it was Leo's turn, and the weight of expectations crushed his chest harder than a fastball.

"You good, man?" Tyrell asked, tapping his bat against the fence. "You look like you're gonna puke."

"Just need my vitamins," Leo lied, popping an actual vitamin C supplement his mom had pressed into his palm that morning. "Immune system, you know? Can't get sick now."

Truth was, he'd been secretly dyeing his hair orange since eighth grade—a bright, defiant orange that said: I'm not just Alex's little brother. But last week he'd washed it out, gone back to boring brown. Because apparently "you need to focus on the team, not your identity." Whatever that meant.

Coach called his name. Leo stepped to the plate, the bat feeling foreign in sweaty hands.

First pitch: strike. Second: swinging air. The laughter started before the third pitch even left the pitcher's hand.

That's when it happened.

A flash of orange fur darted onto the field—a stray cat that lived near the equipment shed. It zigzagged through players, causing chaos, sending the catcher scrambling. The cat stopped at home plate, looked directly at Leo with electric yellow eyes, and let out the most determined meow.

Everyone froze. Then someone snorted. Then everyone laughed—but not at Leo this time.

"Alright, show's over!" Coach yelled, chasing the cat off with his cap.

Leo stepped back in, something different in his chest now. Lighter. He swung at the next pitch and connected—solid, satisfying contact. The ball sailed past the outfielder's reaching glove.

"Damn!" Tyrell shouted. "Where'd THAT come from?"

Leo grinned, pulse finally settling. The cat sat by the fence, tail curled neatly around its paws like it had planned this whole thing.

"Just needed the right motivation," Leo said, grabbing another orange slice from his pocket. The vitamin hadn't done squat. But a little orange chaos? That was exactly what he needed.

His hair was still brown. But tomorrow, he decided, it'd be orange again. The team would just have to deal with both—the player and the person.