The Spy in Left Field

My palms were sweating. Like, actually dripping, which is gross when you're gripping a **baseball** bat like your social life depends on it.

"You got this, Leo," Marcus whispered, but his eyes were already drifting toward the dugout where Sarah sat, adjusting her **hat** so it tilted just right. That tilt. That effortless, I-woke-up-like-this tilt that I could never pull off without looking like I was having a neck spasm.

I was the new kid. Again. Fifth school in three years. You'd think I'd have this down by now, but here I was, trying out for the team, pretending I knew what I was doing when the most athletic thing I'd ever done was flee from awkward situations at high velocity.

Coach Rodriguez hit a ground ball my way. I missed. My glove didn't even graze it. Someone snickered. Probably Tyler, because Tyler is a Tyler.

After practice, I grabbed my stuff and bolted. But I forgot my water bottle, so I had to sneak back. And that's when I saw them—Tyler and his crew behind the equipment shed, passing something back and forth. My brain went full FBI. My fight-or-flight response chose fight. Or more accurately, creep.

I crouched behind the **palm** tree near the fence and played **spy** like my life depended on it. Pulling out my phone, I angled it just right, feeling like I was in some low-budget teen drama. The something they were passing? A coiled ethernet **cable**.

"We need more length," Tyler was saying. "Sarah's basement setup is weak."

"Dude, just ask her," Marcus replied. "She's literally into you."

My brain short-circuited. The plot twist of all plot twists: Tyler wasn't bullying Sarah. He was trying to impress her by fixing her gaming rig. The absolute KING of weirdly specific romantic gestures.

I crept away, overheating from how much secondhand embarrassment was coursing through my veins. But then I realized—I wasn't the awkward new kid anymore. I was the guy who knew Tyler's secret. The guy who could walk up to Sarah tomorrow and say, "Hey, heard you need some help with your cable situation." I could be the HERO. Or I could just let Tyler be Tyler, and finally admit that maybe everyone here was just figuring it out too.

The next day at practice, I missed another ball. But this time, I laughed first.