Battery Life and First Dates

Maya's hands were sweating so bad she could've filled a **palm** reader's cup. She stood at the edge of the **padel** court, clutching her **iPhone** 13 like it was the only thing keeping her anchored to planet Earth. The group chat was blowing up—everyone at school already knew about today, somehow—and she needed to see what they were saying.

Noah waved from across the court, dimples popping as he jogged over. "You made it!"

"Yeah," Maya managed, her voice doing that embarrassing crackly thing. "Cool racket."

Smooth. So smooth.

Then her phone flashed the red battery icon. 1%. She'd forgotten her charging **cable** at home in her rush to pick the perfect outfit. In two hours, her dad would call to check in. No phone, no ride, no explanation. Maya's stomach dropped through the court floor.

"Everything okay?" Noah asked, tilting his head.

Before she could answer, Buster—his family's golden retriever—came bounding out of nowhere with a tennis ball in his mouth and crashed right into her knees. Maya went down hard. Her phone skittered across the court, sliding under the fence.

They both scrambled after it. Noah reached it first, screen-down in the grass. He flipped it over. Dark. Completely dead.

"Oh my god," Maya whispered. "That was 1%."

"That's... actually kind of perfect?" Noah said, sitting back on his heels.

"Perfect?" Maya laughed, hysteria bubbling up. "How is this perfect? My dad's gonna call, I have no ride, I can't even call an Uber—"

"No one's gonna bother us now," Noah cut in. "No texts, no notifications, no Instagram updates. Just us and padel. And Buster." The **dog** chose that moment to slobber all over Noah's knee.

Maya stared at him. Then she started laughing. Really laughing.

They played until sunset, until her hands stopped shaking and she actually started hitting the ball. When his dad finally came to pick them up, Noah walked her to the car and held her hand for just a second—his palm warm against hers.

"This was the worst first date ever," Maya whispered, grinning like an idiot.

"Yeah," Noah said. "Best worst date ever."

Her phone was dead. Her hair was a mess. She smelled like dog and exhaustion. But Maya floated home on cloud nine, already wondering how she'd explain to her dad why she hadn't picked up his three missed calls.