The Spinach Strikeout

Maya's iPhone screen glowed in the darkness of her bedroom at 2 AM. She'd been staring at Jake's profile for twenty minutes—his baseball uniform pic from last season, the one where he looked effortless and perfect. Tomorrow was the first day of sophomore year, and she had a plan.

No more invisible Maya. This year, she'd sit at the popular table. She'd talk to Jake. She'd finally use that gym membership her mom bought.

The pool opened at 5 AM for **swimming** laps. Maya dragged herself out of bed, grabbed her gym bag, and tripped over her cat—a **bear** of a tabby named Pancake who glared like she'd personally offended him.

The locker room smelled like chlorine and old sneakers. Maya changed quickly, feeling self-conscious in her one-piece. As she walked toward the pool, her stomach did something weird. That spinach smoothie she'd improvised for breakfast suddenly seemed like a terrible life choice.

She spotted Jake by the pool deck. Of course he was here. Of course he looked amazing.

"Hey!" he called. "You swim?"

Maya nodded, attempting to look athletic. "Totally. Every morning."

"Cool." He grinned. "I'm training for **baseball**. Coach says cross-training helps with..." Something technical about core strength followed. Maya wasn't listening. She was trying not to throw up spinach everywhere.

"So," Jake said, "there's this party Friday. You should come."

"YES," Maya said, too loud. "I mean—yeah, that sounds chill."

"Awesome." He hesitated. "Can I have your number? Or Insta? Whatever works."

Her hands shook as she typed her info into his phone. Later, back in her room, she stared at the new contact on her iPhone: Jake 🏈

The spinach incident had been worth it.

Friday came. Maya wore her favorite crop top and spent twenty minutes on her hair. The party was loud, smelled like cheap body spray, and honestly kind of sucked. But Jake was there, and he actually wanted to talk to her.

"Hey," he said, appearing with two sodas. "Saved you from the punch. Trust me, you don't want to know what's in it."

"Probably spinach," Maya joked.

He laughed. A real laugh.

They ended up on the porch, talking until 3 AM about everything and nothing—baseball, his annoying little sister, her weird cat, why high school felt like everyone was performing all the time.

"I'm not really this confident," Maya admitted. "I literally practiced conversations in my mirror."

Jake smiled. "Me too. Not the mirror part, but—I mean, I was terrified to talk to you on Monday."

"Seriously?"

"You seemed like you had it together. Still do."

The bear cat was waiting at the window when she got home. Maya scratched his ears, feeling something shift inside her—lighter, somehow. The real her was messier than the version she'd planned, but Jake seemed to like that version better anyway.

Her iPhone dinged. Jake: Tonight was real. Thx for being real too.

Maya smiled. Maybe sophomore year wouldn't be so bad after all.