The Smoothie Signal

Leo's mom called it his "phase." His friends just called him weird. But Leo called it necessary — the way he documented everything on his iPhone, like maybe if he captured enough moments, he'd actually start living in them instead of watching from the sidelines.

That's how he ended up at baseball tryouts sophomore year. Not because he could hit. Definitely not because he could catch. But because someone needed to film the pitchers for the scouts, and Leo's iPhone had that nice camera his grandma bought him for his birthday last Christmas.

"You're like, basically part of the team," Marcus told him, which was exactly the kind of thing a starting pitcher says when he wants you to hold his water bottle.

The team was everything Leo wasn't: loud, confident, covered in dirt like it was cologne. They'd end practice at this smoothie place downtown, and Leo would tag along because following people was basically his personality at this point.

Then came the Tuesday everything shifted.

Marcus's slump had lasted three games. The team was losing hope. Leo, killing time in the cafeteria, had been watching those TikTok videos about athletes and nutrition — the algorithm just knew.

"Try this," Leo said, sliding a cup across the table at practice. It was green. Like, aggressively green.

Marcus squinted. "What's in it?"

"Pineapple, banana, coconut water, and..." Leo hesitated. "Spinach."

"Bro, I'm not drinking that."

"Just try it. I looked it up. The iron helps with energy. Something about oxygen and muscles."

Marcus made a face like he'd just smelled something dead in his locker. But he was also desperate. He took a sip.

Then another.

"Wait," Marcus said. "This doesn't taste like leaves."

"That's the pineapple."

By Friday, Marcus had hit two home runs. By the next week, half the team was requesting Leo's "magic shakes" before games. Suddenly Leo wasn't just the guy with the iPhone anymore. He was mixing blenders and discussing protein powder like he'd been doing it his whole life.

His mom found him in the kitchen one night, surrounded by spinach and pineapple cores, writing recipes in the Notes app.

"I thought this was a phase," she said, smiling.

"Yeah," Leo said, not looking up from his phone. "Me too."

But sometimes phases are just practice for the person you're becoming.