Three Seconds Under

The hat was his mom's old baseball cap, frayed at the brim and smelling faintly of 2019. Javi pulled it lower over his eyes, trying to become invisible in the cafeteria chaos. Three tables down, Maya laughed at something that idiot Tyler said, and Javi's stomach did that annoying flip thing it did whenever she was within a fifty-foot radius.

"You're staring again," said Kian, sliding onto the bench across from him. Kian had been Javi's best friend since sixth grade, back when Javi's biggest problem was accidentally calling their teacher "mom" twice in one week. "Just go talk to her."

"Yeah, and say what? 'Hey Maya, nice to meet you, I'm the guy who accidentally set off the school fire alarm during homecoming?'" Javi poked at his mystery meat. "Hard pass."

That's when Principal Chen's voice crackled over the intercom: "Attention students, due to yesterday's plumbing incident, the annual faculty versus student baseball game is cancelled. BUT—" everyone groaned "—we'll be doing something way more rizzed up. A talent show. Friday night. Sign-ups in the main office."

Maya's hand shot up. She'd been singing in choir forever. Of course she'd sign up.

Javi's goldfish, Captain Bubbles, back in his bedroom, had more stage presence than he did. But then he thought about his abuela's story about the bull in her village—how everyone feared it until one kid just walked right up to it with calm energy, no fear, just presence. The bull had knelt. Sometimes the scariest things just needed you to show up differently.

His hand moved before his brain could object.

"What are you DOING?" Kian practically hissed.

"I don't know," Javi whispered back. "I don't KNOW."

Four days later, Javi stood backstage in his lucky hat, sweating through his favorite shirt. The talent show curtain rose to reveal hundreds of people, Maya watching from the third row. His knees threatened to bail. But then he remembered what his abuela said—sometimes you just had to show up.

He took three breaths like he was underwater, like Captain Bubbles in his tank, and opened his mouth.

The joke about accidentally becoming the school's unofficial fire alarm specialist landed. People laughed. ACTUALLY laughed. Then the bit about how his mom's hat had seen more awkward social moments than he had. By the time he finished with the story about his goldfish giving better relationship advice than TikTok, the gym was roaring.

Afterward, Maya found him by the bleachers.

"You were hilarious," she said. "I didn't know you were funny."

"Neither did I," Javi admitted, and Maya's laugh was genuine.

"Hey, maybe you can help me with my choir solo? I'm terrified."

"Deal," said Javi, adjusting his hat and smiling for real. "If you help me with next week's game. I think I finally figured out how to not strike out."