Zombie at the Plate

My faded **baseball** cap pulled low, I sat on the bench feeling like actual death. Finals week had turned me into a **zombie** — three nights of half-sleep, surviving on vending machine snacks and pure spite. Coach Miller called my name, and I swear I hallucinated it.

"You're up, Maya. Don't embarrass me out there."

I grabbed my bat, my **hat** nearly falling off. The state championship game. Bottom of the seventh. Two outs. Our whole season came down to me — the girl who'd been striking out all season. The stands were packed. My crush, Sam, was watching from the first row behind our dugout. No pressure or whatever.

The pitcher glared at me like I'd personally insulted her family. First pitch: high and outside. I swung anyway. Missed by approximately a mile.

"Strike one!" the umpire bellowed.

My teammates were screaming encouragement, but I could barely hear them over the blood pumping in my ears. Second pitch: I watched it sail by for a called strike. My arms felt like they weighed approximately seven thousand pounds each.

Then Coach Miller threw me a fresh bottle of **water** from the dugout. "Drink. Reset. You've been here before."

I poured half over my head, letting the cold shock my system awake. The other half I actually drank. Something about that moment — the water dripping down my face, everyone watching, Sam literally holding their breath — snapped everything into focus.

I wasn't a zombie anymore. I was just a girl with a bat and one shot left.

Third pitch came in low and outside. I didn't think. I just swung.

CRACK.

The ball soared over the left fielder's head. I took off running like my life depended on it, slid into third just as the throw arrived. Safe. The crowd went absolutely feral.

Next batter hit a single, and I scored. We won the championship. Sam ran onto the field with everyone else, and in the chaos of celebration, somehow our hands brushed.

"Nice slide," they said, grinning.

"Nice hat," I replied, because I was officially the worst at flirting.

But Sam laughed. For someone who'd been a zombie twenty minutes ago, I felt pretty alive.