Catfish Courtside

Maya's **cat** Luna knocked over her water glass right as she opened Instagram. Again.

"You're a menace," she muttered, grabbing a towel. The water pooled on her desk, dripping onto the stack of padel tournament flyers underneath.

That's when she saw it: Tyler's post. *Pool party Saturday. Bring your A-game.*

Maya's heart did that annoying fluttery thing. Tyler, with his stupid perfect smile and stupid perfect hair, having parties like it was nothing. Meanwhile, she was here, accidentally cat-parenting and barely knowing how to hold a **padel** racquet properly.

Her best friend Priya had been begging her to join the club's beginner league. "You'll love it, it's like tennis but cooler," she'd said. Now it was suddenly the most important thing ever.

"I'm literally going to become a **spy**," Maya announced to Luna. The cat blinked, unimpressed.

By Saturday, Maya had watched twelve padel tutorials and bought a cute outfit that definitely said "I play sports" and not "I'm trying too hard." She showed up at the courts, where Tyler's group was warming up.

"Hey! You made it," Tyler called, waving. "Want to play?"

Maya's brain short-circuited. "Uh, sure?"

She stepped onto the court, knees shaking. The racquet felt foreign in her hands. But then something clicked. Her first serve actually went in. Tyler nodded, impressed. She returned his shot. The game was fast, intense, actually fun.

Afterward, sweaty and exhausted, they all grabbed smoothies. Tyler sat next to her.

"You're secretly good at this," he said. "Where've you been hiding?"

Maya shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Around."

Luna was waiting at home, probably plotting her next water-based disaster. But Maya walked home with Tyler's number in her phone and the weird realization that sometimes, the coolest versions of ourselves are just waiting for us to show up and play.