Zombie Batter at the Deep End

Marcus felt like a straight-up zombie. Three weeks of travel baseball camp would do that to you—5 AM practices, endless batting cages, and Coach Miller yelling about "locking in" when your brain was basically mush.

"Bro, you look dead," Ty said, tossing him a Gatorade. "You good for the pool party?"

Marcus's stomach did that thing where it forgot how to human. Sarah's party. The one he'd been thinking about for literal months.

"Yeah," Marcus lied, checking his reflection in his phone. Three new pimples. Whatever. Fresh fade looked clean though. He'd spent twenty minutes perfecting it.

The pool party was exactly what his anxiety had ordered: way too many people, way too much skin, and somewhere in the chaos, Sarah in this yellow two-piece that made his chest weirdly tight. She was by the snack table, laughing at something Jake-from-the-team said.

Marcus grabbed a smoothie thing from the cooler. Kale, spinach, something green and healthy that his mom would definitely approve of. He took a massive gulp to look casual.

"Hey!" It was Sarah. Up close. Real. "You made it!"

"Yeah." Oh no. His voice cracked. "What's up?"

They talked about nothing. Summer, baseball, how Jake had hit a homerun during camp and wouldn't shut up about it. Sarah's eyes were actually kind of amazing up close, not that he'd admit that to anyone ever.

Then it happened.

Sarah leaned in, grinning. "You have a little—" She gestured at her teeth.

Marcus froze. The spinach. The freaking spinach smoothie. Green bits stuck in his teeth like actual lettuce.

His soul left his body. Every single insecurity about not being good enough, not being smooth enough, not being Jake-level cool crashed into him at once. He'd never recover. This would be his villain origin story.

"Thanks," he mumbled, rushing to the bathroom.

He stared at himself in the mirror. The spinach was gone with one finger swipe, but the damage was done. He was that guy now. Spinach Teeth Guy. The social casualty of the century.

When he came back out, Sarah was still there.

"Feeling better?" she asked.

Marcus shrugged, feeling small. "Yeah. Sorry about that."

"It happens." Sarah splashed water at him. "Besides, Jake's the one who accidentally did a cannonball onto his phone earlier, so you're good."

Marcus laughed. Actually laughed. For the first time all summer, the zombie pressure lifted. Maybe perfection wasn't the point. Maybe being messy and awkward and human was okay.

"Wanna play chicken?" Sarah asked. "Jake and Emma are destroying everyone."

"You're on."

Maybe summer wasn't about being flawless. Maybe it was about the moments that made you want to die a little, then made you glad you didn't.