Three Strikes at Growing Up

Gym class baseball, and of course I'm in right field again. Coach Miller calls it "strategic positioning." I call it witness protection for the athletically challenged.

"Heads up, Miller!" someone yells, and I look up just in time to see the ball coming directly at my face. I don't even try to catch it—I just duck. The ball lands somewhere in the grass behind me as everyone groans.

"Nice reflexes," Maya deadpans from center field. She's gorgeous, effortlessly cool, and I've been lowkey crushing on her since September. This is not how I imagined winning her over.

After school, I walk to my neighbor Mrs. Chen's house to feed her **goldfish** while she's at her daughter's wedding. The fish—a chubby orange thing named Bubbles—floats to the surface like it's judging my entire existence.

"You're lucky you live in a bowl," I tell it, sprinkling those weird flakes. "Nobody expects you to be good at sports."

That's when I hear scratching at the back door.

A **dog** has somehow gotten into Mrs. Chen's fenced yard—a golden retriever with the most panicked expression I've ever seen on an animal. It's wearing a collar that says "BUFORD" in rhinestone letters. Buford is currently losing his mind because a squirrel is taunting him from the safety of a maple tree.

I step outside cautiously. "Hey buddy, you okay?"

Buford abandons the squirrel mission immediately and tackles me with full-body wiggles, knocking me into Mrs. Chen's prize petunias. I'm lying there in the dirt with this giant fur beast licking my face when the back gate opens.

A guy walks in—older, maybe college age—with the same dark hair as Maya. Oh no.

"Buford! There you are, you drama queen." The guy looks at me, petunia petals in my hair, dirt smudged across my forehead. "Did he tackle you?"

"He's very friendly," I manage.

"I'm Leo, Maya's brother." He extends a hand to pull me up. "Thanks for not letting him escape. This idiot's a rescue—still working on his boundaries."

"No problem. I'm... I'm Jamie. Miller. From your sister's school."

Leo's eyes light up. "Oh! Maya said you're the one who helped her with that chem lab after she broke her arm. Said you saved her grade."

I feel my face getting hot. "She said that?"

"Dude, she never says nice things about anyone." Buford is now attempting to eat a petunia. "Hey, you want to help me get this goofball home? Maya's at softball practice—we could walk by."

I don't even think before answering. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

As we walk, Buford calms down and actually trots beside me like he's my dog. Leo tells me Maya used to be terrified of softball until last year, when she finally got over her fear of failing. "Growth's messy, man," he says. "The petunias of life, you know?"

When we reach the park, Maya's at bat. She swings, connects, and the ball soars over the fence—right where I'd been standing earlier that day.

She spots us and jogs over, smiling. "Jamie! What are you doing here? And why do you have Buford?"

"Long story," I say, but I'm grinning so hard it probably looks weird. "Your brother found me in Mrs. Chen's petunias."

Maya laughs, and it's the best sound I've heard all day. "Well, thanks for helping with Buford. And Jamie?"

"Yeah?"

"Next time there's a baseball flying at your face... maybe try catching it?"

Buford barks, and I'm pretty sure he's laughing too. But for the first time, I don't feel like I'm stuck in right field anymore. I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.