Three Strikes, One Truth

Maya's fingers hovered over her cracked **iphone** screen, heart doing that stupid flutter thing it always did when Jake's name popped up. Three gray bubbles appeared, disappeared, then appeared again.

'u up?'

She stared at her ceiling, counting the rotations of her fan. Jake, the varsity shortstop, the guy whose smile made eighth-period algebra feel like underwater basket weaving. Maya, who played first base with the intensity of someone solving a murder case.

'yeah'

'can u come to the field?'

Maya grabbed her glove from where it sat by her door like a loyal dog waiting to be fed. The field lights were off when she arrived, moonlight painting the dirt silver. Jake stood near home plate, baseball cap backward, looking like every Instagram post that ever made her feel inadequate.

"Hey." He sounded nervous. Jake Rodriguez, nervous.

"Hey."

"So," he kicked at the dirt. "I found something today."

Her stomach dropped. Not the good drop, the bad one. The "oh no" drop.

"From your **baseball** bag." He held up her phone. "You left it open after practice."

Maya's face burned. She'd been writing about him in her notes app. Actual poetry-level embarrassing stuff. She felt like she was underwater again, but without the algebra.

"You read it?" Her voice came out small.

"I didn't mean to **spy** on you, Maya. I swear." His eyes were sincere. "But then I couldn't stop reading."

She wanted to die. Literally evaporate into the night air and become part of the atmospheric circulation.

"And?" she managed.

"And." He stepped closer. "I write about you too."

He pulled out his own phone, opened his notes, and handed it to her.

*Her swing is like a dance. Her laugh sounds like sunshine breaking through clouds. I'm terrified to talk to her but more terrified not to.*

Maya looked up, and Jake was blushing. Actually blushing.

"So," he said. "Maybe we stop writing about each other and start talking to each other?"

"Yeah," Maya smiled, feeling something bright and new bloom in her chest. "I'd like that."

Under the field lights that weren't even on, two awkward teenagers learned that sometimes the scariest secrets are the ones worth someone else finding out.