One True Thing by Lynne Jaymes

everyone in the stadium is on their feet screaming, but all I can really hear is my breath coming hard and my feet as they pound the dirt, Coach’s face red, and his veins bulging as he screams for me to keep going. I see the catcher straight ahead of me, crouched down with his glove up, ready to grab the ball. I have to beat it. I have to be faster than the little white ball as it whips through the air toward the two of us. I turn my head against the flying dirt as I put my leg forward into a slide, reaching with my foot to stop myself from overshooting it, one hand still on the plate as the ball hits the mitt with a loud thwack, half a second too late.
    Instantly the dugout empties and everyone cheers as we jump and hug each other for the win. Backs are pounded, fists are pumped and slowly everything settles down as we head back to the dugout to get our stuff.
    “Fucking awesome,” Mitch yells, slapping me hard on the arm. “I knew you’d do it the whole time.”
    “Nice job, Branch,” Coach says, walking by with his clipboard, his mustache twitching and I can see he’s happy.
    “Rowan and Mitch made it possible,” I say, nodding to the bench.
    “But you made it happen,” he says, tapping the clipboard. “Good things are in store for you Branch, I can feel it.”
    “Thank you sir,” I say, packing up the rest of my gear.
    After a quick shower, I’m grabbing my backpack out of the locker when Mitch finally walks in from the field.
    “That was fast,” he says, pulling off his jersey and tossing it into the laundry bag.
    “Yeah, I have a lot of shit to do in between games this week.” I glance at him, but he seems relaxed. I guess the resumption of small talk means that we’re back on okay ground.
    “Cool. Catch you tomorrow,” he says, pulling a towel around his neck and giving me a quick high five.
    I walk out of the locker room to the heat of the late afternoon and see Nina leaning against the wall of the gym. She looks up as I pass, so I can’t ignore her. I have to say something. “Hey. Mitch is just getting in the shower so he might be a little while.”
    “Thanks,” she says, standing up straight. She looks around and then walks over to me. “I need to ask you something.”
    Shit. Here it comes. She and Jenna are friends—I’m positive she told her everything. “Sure.”
    “Look—I know what’s going on with you, and I don’t get it. What’s the big deal?”
    “What are you talking about?” I step closer to her, my heart pounding. Damn. I knew she’d figure it out. I should have stayed far away from Nina.
    “You. And what you are, as opposed to what you’re pretending to be.” Nina looks me up and down. “You’ve been keeping your hair cut short and I’m guessing those green eyes are real, but seriously, it’s as plain as day. Mom’s side or dad’s?”
    I let out a long breath. There’s no use denying it to her any more. I just have to see what I can do to minimize the damage. I look around to make sure we’re still alone. “My mom’s black if that’s what you’re asking.”
    “So you’ve been passing this whole time?” Nina grins at me and I hope I don’t see any hatred there. “Why are you doing so much to hide the fact that you’re mixed? I don’t get it.”
    It’s exactly what I expect her to say. I shake my head. “You don’t get it. People know what you are the minute they look at you. They see you, they think ‘black girl’ and they know what box to put you in. My whole life people have asked me ‘What are you?’ I’m not black, I’m not white, I’m definitely ‘other’. At home, everyone knows my parents so everyone knows I’m mixed, but when I came here to check out the school with my dad, everyone just assumed I was white. What was I supposed to do?”
    Nina’s eyes get wide. “Um…tell them the truth?”
    “And how exactly do you have that conversation? How do you bring something like that up after all this time? And the second it