Court Cat Confidential

The first time I saw him at the padel courts, I almost dropped my racquet. which would've been embarrassing considering I was already holding it wrong.

"You're gripping it like a murder weapon," said Leo, flashing that smile that made my palms sweat. "Here."

He reached over and adjusted my hand. His fingers brushed mine. My brain short-circuited.

I'd been basically stalking—I mean, casually observing—Leo's padel schedule for three weeks. My best friend Maya called it being a "low-key spy." I called it tactical research. Same difference.

The courts had this resident cat, a scruffy orange tabby who appeared whenever someone played terribly. Which meant: the cat appeared whenever I played. The cat had become my emotional support animal, though mostly it just slept in the corner and judged my backhand.

"You're running away from the ball again," Leo said during our fourth lesson. "You gotta step INTO it."

Easy for him to say. Leo Mercado, varsity soccer star, padel prodigy, owner of the best hair in the tenth grade. Me? I was the girl who once tripped during gym class warmups and invented a new way to fall that concerned the athletic trainer.

But here's the thing about doing something terrifying: eventually it becomes less terrifying. Or at least, you get better at hiding the terror.

By week six, my palms only sweated a little. I could actually return the ball sometimes. The cat started watching me with mild interest instead of pure pity.

Leo invited me to play against him and his brother Friday after school.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said when I stood there frozen.

"Yes," I squeaked. "I mean—yeah. Totally."

The cat purred. I took that as a good omen.

Friday came. I played. I didn't win, but I didn't die of humiliation either. And afterward, when Leo high-fived me and my palm pressed against his, I realized something important:

Sometimes the things worth doing—really worth doing—are the ones that make your hands shake and your stomach drop. The ones that require you to stop running away and step into the ball instead.

The cat, for the record, seemed impressed.