Wrong Sport, Right Summer

The summer before freshman year, I signed up for baseball camp because that's what guys did. That's what my dad did. That's what would make me normal at Maple Grove High.

I was wrong about baseball. I couldn't hit. I couldn't catch. Coach Miller's voice echoed in my head: 'You run like you're swimming, DeShawn – all arms and no legs.' The team laughed. I swallowed the lump in my throat and kept swinging.

Then came the papaya incident.

It was taco Tuesday, and some senior dared me to try the weird fruit in the cafeteria line. 'Five bucks says you won't eat it,' he said. His friends laughed. I wanted to disappear.

But then Maya slid into the seat next to me. 'The papaya's actually good,' she said. She took my fork, sprinkled lime juice over the bright orange flesh, and handed it back. 'Try it.'

I took a bite. Sweet, tangy, nothing like I expected.

'Not bad,' I said.

Two days later, I was running behind the school during baseball conditioning when I heard it – a low, guttural sound from the woods. I froze. A black bear, huge and shaggy, emerged from the trees, sniffing the air.

I didn't run. I backed away slow and steady, exactly like you're supposed to, heart hammering. The bear watched me, then lumbered off toward the dumpster.

I walked back to the field, legs shaking, and found Coach Miller waiting.

'Bear?' he asked.

'Bear,' I nodded.

'You okay?'

'Yeah.' I swallowed. 'I think I'm done with baseball though.'

That afternoon, I walked to the pool. Maya was there, cutting through the water like she was born to it. She saw me and waved me over.

'Quit baseball?' she guessed.

'How'd you know?'

'The bear story's all over school,' she said. 'And you look like someone who figured something out.'

I looked at the water. 'Think the team needs another swimmer?'

'Maybe,' she said. 'But first, you have to show me your papaya technique.'

I laughed, and it felt easy. Some things take trying. Some things just fit. And sometimes, the right thing finds you when you stop running from what everyone else thinks you should be.