The Vitamin Gummy Conspiracy

Marcus jammed his faded baseball cap over his curls, pulling the brim low. The hat was his armor, his signal to the world: don't talk to me, I'm busy. But the truth? He wasn't busy. He was just terrified.

Every lunch period, he sat behind the oak tree and watched them—the popular kids, the baseball team, the people who actually mattered. He wasn't trying to be creepy about it. Okay, maybe a little. But it was research. If he could figure out how they moved, how they talked, how they existed so effortlessly in their own skin, maybe he could stop feeling like an alien wearing a human costume.

"Dude, you're like, basically a spy now," his best mate Raj had said when Marcus admitted his observation habit. "Information gathering. That's legit."

Marcus snorted. Yeah, right. The only intel he'd gathered was that Tyler, the star pitcher, took the same neon orange vitamin gummies that Marcus's mom made him choke down every morning. The ones that tasted like artificial fruit depression and promised to support "teenage brain development" whatever that meant.

"Marcus?"

He jumped. Tyler was standing there, actual Tyler, with his perfect hair and varsity jacket and everything Marcus had been obsessively analyzing from behind his tree.

"You're Marcus, right? From Mr. Harrison's English class?"

Marcus nodded, his mouth suddenly dry. This was it. The moment he'd been secretly preparing for. He could do this. He'd studied Tyler's mannerisms. He knew Tyler laughed at his own jokes and tilted his head when he was listening and—

"Your hat," Tyler said, gesturing. "That's a Giants cap? From '08?"

"Oh. Yeah. My dad gave it to me."

"That's sick, honestly. Vintage." Tyler sat down beside him, close enough that Marcus could smell his cologne. Something expensive and confident. "Hey, are you trying out for the team this spring?"

Marcus's heart hammered. "I, uh, I don't know if I'm good enough."

"Bro, you've got a cannon. I've seen you throwing with Raj during PE." Tyler pulled something from his pocket and held it out. Orange vitamin gummies. "Want one? My mom's obsessed with these things. Says my brain needs all the help it can get."

Marcus laughed. Something loosened in his chest. "My mom says the exact same thing."

"See? We're basically twins." Tyler bumped his shoulder. "Look, about tryouts—come on out. We need a left fielder who can actually track a ball. Plus..." He grinned, "I need someone who understands the vitamin struggle."

Marcus adjusted his cap, but not to hide this time. Just to settle it more firmly on his head. "Yeah," he said, and it came out easier than he expected. "Yeah. I'll be there."

He watched Tyler jog back to the field and thought about all those hours he'd spent watching from behind the tree, convinced that understanding them from a distance was the closest he'd ever get. But maybe the thing about spying on other people's lives was that eventually, you had to stop watching and start living your own.