Before the Storm

The padel court was empty except for Jordan and me, everyone else having bailed when the first rumble of thunder rolled through. Coach didn't even argue—just told us to pack it up.

"One more rally," Jordan said, bouncing the ball like his life depended on it.

"Dude, literally lightning is about to strike."

"Scared?"

"Smart. There's a difference."

He smirked—that infuriating, perfect smirk that made my stomach do things I refused to name even in my own head. Jordan Medina had been my best friend since seventh grade, when he'd transferred from Miami and somehow decided I was worth talking to. Two years of inside jokes, late-night gaming sessions, and carefully calibrated distance.

Then sophomore year happened, and suddenly his smile made my chest tight. His laugh became my favorite sound. I'd started memorizing the way his hair curled when he'd been running his hands through it too much.

Like now.

"Fine," I said, positioning myself. "But if we get struck by lightning, I'm haunting you forever."

"Deal." He served. The ball cracked against my racquet, the sound sharp and satisfying in the heavy air. We fell into rhythm—back, forth, back, forth—like we always did. Like everything was normal when nothing had been normal for months.

A frayed charging cable dangled from an outlet by the bench, someone's forgotten lifeline to the digital world. I wondered if anyone was trying to reach me. If anyone would notice if I never left this court.

Jordan's phone buzzed in his bag, probably some girl from AP Bio asking for homework help. Meanwhile I was here, playing padel in a thunderstorm like an absolute clown, running away from feelings that had been chasing me since homecoming.

"Hey, Alex?"

"What?" I returned his serve harder than necessary.

"You've been weird lately." He didn't miss a beat. "Everything cool?"

Lightning flashed closer, whitening the sky behind the chain-link fence.

"Yeah," I lied. "Everything's cool."

He studied me across the net, his expression unreadable. The air between us felt electric in a way that had nothing to do with the storm.

"Cool," Jordan said softly. "Just checking."

But something in his voice made me wonder—just for a second—if maybe, somehow, I wasn't the only one running from something.