Zombie Mode at the Plate

Maya's hair refused to cooperate that morning. She'd spent twenty minutes trying to tame the frizzy mass into something resembling dignity, but it rebelled like it had its own death wish. Not that it mattered—she was operating on about three hours of sleep and was basically a zombie anyway.

"You look like you haven't slept since finals week," Leo said, sliding into the booth across from her at The Bean. He pushed a smoothie toward her. "Spinach, kale, something green that tastes like sadness but wakes you up."

Maya eyed it suspiciously. "I'd rather mainline espresso."

"Trust me." He grinned, and she hated how his baseball cap sat perfectly on his head, while hers probably looked like she'd been through a wind tunnel. "Big game today. Regionals. You need to not be dead at the plate."

Right. The baseball game. The one her entire social standing seemed to hinge on, because apparently in suburban hell, if you weren't at the games, you didn't exist. And somehow she'd gotten roped into singing the anthem.

She took a sip. It actually wasn't terrible.

"My mom's already posted about it on Facebook," Maya groaned. "Like three times. 'Come support our girl!' Complete with that baby picture where I have spinach all over my face."

Leo laughed. "Classic. At least you're not facing Anderson."

Anderson. The pitcher whose fastball had been clocked at seventy miles per hour and who looked like he was actively trying to end everyone's dreams. A total bull on the mound.

"Thanks. Now I'm terrified."

"That's the spirit." Leo checked his phone. "We should go. Coach said if we're late, we're running laps until we literally become zombies."

The smoothie actually worked. By the time they reached the field, Maya felt almost human. Almost. Then she saw Anderson warming up, and the zombie feeling returned full force.

But then Leo handed her his lucky batting gloves, said "You got this," and somehow, with her hair frizzing out in the wind, green smoothie in her system, and half the school watching, Maya stepped up to the plate.

She didn't hit a home run. But she didn't strike out either. And sometimes, that's enough.