Zombie Mode at the Plate

Maya shuffled into third period like a zombie—dark circles carved under her eyes, brain still swimming from the Fortnite marathon that had hijacked her sleep schedule. Three hours of gaming with Lucas and the squad, chasing Victory Royale after Victory Royale. Worth it? Debatable. Mr. Harrison was droning on about Shakespeare, and Maya's head kept doing that nodding-dolol thing where you almost fall asleep, then jerk awake like you've been electrocuted.

"You good?" whispered Tessa, sliding a note onto her desk. Tessa with the perfect skin and the effortless kind of pretty that made Maya feel like a potato in comparison.

"Zombie mode," Maya whispered back. "Lucas kept us up till 2 AM."

"That's such bull," Tessa said. "He knows you have tryouts today."

Right. Baseball tryouts. Because apparently Maya had decided that joining the team would somehow fix everything—her social invisibility, her lack of hobbies beyond gaming, her overall vibe of being background character energy in her own life.

Lucas found her at lunch, dropping into the seat across from her like he owned the cafeteria. "Yo, you coming over tonight? We're finally gonna hit Diamond."

"Can't. Baseball tryouts."

Lucas snorted. "Since when do you play baseball?"

"Since I decided I need, like, actual human skills."

"That's bull," he said, waving it off. "You're just gonna embarrass yourself. Come over later, we'll carry you."

And that's when it happened—the thing that had been building for months, since Lucas started dismissing everything she said, mocking her interests, making her feel small. Maya stood up.

"You know what's bull?" she said, voice shaking but loud enough that heads turned. "How you make everything about you. How you think I'm just some backup player in YOUR game. I'm done being your NPC, Lucas. I'm done."

She walked out, heart hammering, palms sweating, feeling like she might throw up or cry or both.

Tryouts were a disaster. She dropped every fly ball, struck out swinging, and Coach Miller gave her that look—the one that said "nice effort, maybe try soccer instead."

But Tessa was waiting by the fence. "That was epic," she said. "What you did to Lucas? I've been waiting for someone to call him out forever."

Maya's phone buzzed. Twenty notifications from the squad group chat—Lucas had been kicked. Everyone was taking sides.

She might not make the team. She might still be a zombie from lack of sleep. But for the first time in forever, Maya felt like she was actually playing her own game.