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Their cleanup hitter steps in, tapping her bat against her cleats.

She’s been crowding the plate all game, trying to get in my head.

Last at-bat, I painted the outside with my screwball, made her look silly.

But she’s adjusted now; I see it in her stance.

I consider a brushback, but I can’t risk hitting her, can’t ruin a perfect game.

I start my wind-up—the same motion I’ve done thousands of times. The ball feels perfect in my grip, seams just right for my riseball. My go-to when I need a strikeout, and I know she’ll chase high.

The pitch comes out smooth, spinning exactly how I want. The batter’s eyes go wide as it starts low, looks like a meatball, then jumps up at the last second. She swings way under.

“Strike three!” The ump’s call echoes as another Utah player trudges off.

People say I’m throwing fire lately, my fastball up in the high sixties, low seventies, but honestly, I’m trying to focus on anything but Jaxon.

Softball gets two hundred percent of me these days.

Even though this is the kind of game he’d love—me in the zone, making batters look foolish.

Two outs to go. I’ve got eleven strikeouts, and my riseball is untouchable today.

The crowd behind home plate does that low murmur when they know something special’s happening.

Brynn, my catcher, flashes the sign for another rise, and I nod.

I don’t usually throw it for a first pitch, but why mess with what’s working?

That’s when I feel it—a sharp sting on my pitching arm.

I look down and see a fat honeybee, probably drunk on clover, wobbling away. What a little bitch. I can’t believe it stung me.

“Time!” I call, motioning to the dugout, but my tongue feels weird, too big for my mouth. The team doc takes one look at my swelling arm and the hives on my neck. I think... I might be allergic to bees, because next thing I know, I’m getting jabbed with an EpiPen and downing Benadryl.

We win 4-1, but the last two innings are a blur. My perfect game ends with the reliever walking one and giving up a homer.

On the bus to Salt Lake City International, the Benadryl hits like a truck. The world goes fuzzy, and suddenly texting Jaxon seems like genius.

“Don’t you dare,” Brynn warns, grabbing for my phone. “You’re high as hell right now.”

“But I gotta tell him about the bee!” I protest, holding my phone away.

“Camdyn. No.”

But Benadryl-brain me is already typing:

“Nooo,” I say, popping the 'p' and giggling, taking my phone back. “The bee wants me to text him. It’s... bee destiny.”

Brynn leaves, I drift in and out, and when she returns, I’m staring at Olivia Rodrigo’s Instagram.

“You good?” Brynn plops down, busts open Sour Patch Kids.

I take two reds, smoosh them together, let them melt on my tongue. “Totally.” I’m literally drafting a DM to Olivia Rodrigo in my notes app, but Brynn doesn’t need to know.

Dear Olivia,

I see what you did with your new album. Writing about my love life was bold, but I respect it. Quick question—how did you know about the bush-diving? Was Fork Guy your source? He seems like he’d have industry connections...

“What are you doing?” Brynn sighs, throwing a Sour Patch Kid at my head.

“Nothing,” I say, while literally writing fan fiction for Olivia Rodrigo about my life. “Taking notes.”

“Uh huh.” She peers at my phone. “Are you trying to convince Olivia Rodrigo she wrote her album about you?”

I bite the head off a Sour Patch Kid. “She didn’t say she didn’t.”

“Girl.”

“What? The timeline matches up! She probably saw me face-plant and thought, ‘yes, this is the emotional content I need.’”

My phone buzzes, and for a second my heart hopes it’s Jaxon. It’s not. It’s Fork Guy.

Fork Guy

EMERGENCY

Emerald let me cleanse her crystals

I think I blessed them in Spanish??

Can crystals be bilingual??

How do you accidentally bless something in Spanish?

Fork Guy

Rebecca’s tutoring must’ve stuck

Also, unrelated, but Baseball Boy looked sad in class today

Just saying

He did??

Fork Guy

Yesss

Alsoooo

Emerald says Mercury is in retrograde which might explain the Spanish blessing

Or maybe Jupiter?

I wasn’t listening

she was doing something with sage...

“Is that Fork Guy again?” Brynn asks, reading upside down. “Please tell me he’s not still trying to throw the first pitch.”

“He’s moved on to blessing crystals in Spanish.”

“Of course he has.” She grabs my phone, reads the texts. “Also, you know Jaxon’s been asking about you, right?”

I snatch my phone back, heart pounding. “When?” I knew he’d ask. Or maybe I just hoped.

“Every time I see him. He asks King to ask me.”

“Oh.” The idea he still cares sends my heart racing. Or maybe it’s the adrenaline. Either way, I keep messaging.

Dear Olivia, quick update: apparently my ex has been asking about me. Very on-brand for your songwriting. Were you hiding in the bushes too? No judgment...

“Please stop writing to Olivia Rodrigo.” Brynn tries to take my phone, but I hold it away.

I shake my head, stubborn. “She gets me.”

“She doesn’t know you exist.”

“Yet.”

My phone buzzes:

Fork Guy

UPDATE

Emerald says the crystals are more powerful now because they’re multicultural

Also

Rebecca walked by and I didn’t hide!

Growth!

PS: Baseball Boy was checking his phone...

Dear Olivia (one last time),

If you need inspiration for your next album, I know a guy with a bedazzled eye patch who accidentally blessed crystals in Spanish. Also, is it weird that I kind of miss the concrete that broke my fall? Metaphorically, of course.

Love,

The girl who definitely inspired at least three tracks on your album and is high on benadryl...

PS: Fork Guy has great stories about fire escapes and restraining orders.

Yes, I sent that.

Believe it or not, I don’t hate Jaxon. Forgiveness is harder than betrayal, and I can’t hate someone like him. I don’t think he ever meant to hurt me. Might be the Benadryl talking, but maybe not.

Somewhere between the bus and the plane, shit goes south. In an emotional haze, I text Jaxon.

Hey ok, this is gonna be a long message and ima regret sending it prolly

Do it for the plot right?

Idfk what that means

Holy crap, it’s like 4 fucking am

You’re gonna think im crazy fs

Hold on ima google the definition of crazy

Ok im back

Yea, um, i might be crazy

Anywayyyy

ima just say all this shit and it might not make any sense

Maybe it will

I just wanted to actually apologize if i acted idk kinda dramatic about the blog?

She shouldn’t have wrote that shit

It wasn’t your fault tho

Ik we’re young and being in a long relationship is hard and stressful on both of us

Ik i complicate situations by overthinking them and shit too

What i rlly wanted to say though is i miss us

and our daily talks and it makes me sad to have distance between us

I hope that one day soon we can go back to our normal friends and talking every day and maybe someday there’s a new beginning for us again

Maybe we needed this break to clear our heads and become better versions of ourselves

I think taking time to ourselves is important and we both needed it

And also, the idea of dating someone else or talking to another guy makes me physically sick to my stomach because he’s not you

Ok, i think im done blowing up your phone

I might regret this later but I got stung by a bee??

Turns out im allergic to those black and yellow bastards

They gave me benadryllllll

i think ima go back to sleep now and maybe hope you just laugh and think to yourself, omg she’s crazy but I miss her crazy

Also, bees are just spicy flies??

Anyway, that’s all????????????????????????

I’m going to sound insane if I send that.

Guess what? I push send.