Three Strikes and Your Phone

Maya's palms were sweating against her iPhone as she sat behind home plate, watching Jake warm up on the pitcher's mound. This was it—her chance to finally talk to the cute junior who'd smiled at her in the hallway last week.

"You play?" Jake asked, suddenly at the fence, flipping his baseball cap backward.

Maya's brain short-circuited. "Yeah! I mean, kinda. Used to play travel ball and stuff."

Total bull. She'd last picked up a bat in eighth grade gym class, and that had ended with a bruised wrist and eternal embarrassment. But Jake was looking at her with actual interest, and suddenly she was spinning tales about her supposed batting average and that time she "almost went to state."

"That's sick," he said, grinning. "We need a fourth for our weekend league. You down?"

Maya's stomach did a backflip. "Oh, um, my schedule's crazy with..." Her iPhone buzzed. Sarah, her ride home, was asking where she was. "Yeah, totally! Let me just check my calendar."

She swiped open her phone, planning to look busy and strategic, but her wallpaper betrayed her immediately—a screenshot from a video game with the caption "Professional Bench Warmer." Below it, a notification from her mom: "Great job at your clarinet lesson today! Your recital is going to be amazing!"

Jake squinted at her screen. "You play clarinet?"

The worst part? He didn't even look mad. He just looked confused, and that was somehow worse.

"I..." Maya's face burned. "I'm not actually on a travel team. I've literally never played baseball outside of gym. I just... wanted to sound cool."

Jake stared at her for what felt like three innings. Then he started laughing. Not mean laughing, but actual laughing. "Dude, why? Clarinet is way more impressive than baseball. You have to read actual music."

He pulled out his own phone, battered and covered in duct tape. "I literally quit baseball last season but my dad won't let me tell the coach. We're bothfrauds."

Maya blinked. "Wait, really?"

"Cross my heart." He held up his iPhone. "My wallpaper's a screenshot of my failing grade in pre-calc. I'm failing forward."

They sat in silence for a moment, the spring sun warming the bleachers.

"So," Jake said. "Wanna get food? I know a place that doesn't care about batting averages."

"Only if we don't talk about sports," Maya said, pocketing her phone.

"Deal. But I'm gonna need clarinet details. That's actually badass."

As they walked away from the field, Maya's iPhone buzzed one more time. Sarah: "Where ARE you??"

Maya typed back: "Living my best life. Details later."