Court Side Confidential

The hat stayed pulled low. Always. It was basically part of my personality at this point.

"You coming, or what?" Maya called from the padel court, racket bouncing against her hip like she owned the place. Which, honestly, she kind of did. Queen of varsity, undefeated in social hierarchy, somehow still my lab partner.

I拖 my feet forward. The service dog vest on Barnaby made him look official, but we both knew the truth—he was my emotional support blanket in golden retriever form. My therapist said I needed to "put myself out there." Mom said I needed to "stop letting anxiety win." Everyone had opinions.

The game was chaos. Padel is like tennis met squash and they had an energetic, confusing baby. I missed everything. The ball mocked me. My coordination? Nonexistent.

"You're overthinking it," Maya said afterward, sweat dripping but somehow still looking effortless. We sat on the bench, Barnaby's head on my knee like he understood my entire soul.

"I'm just not athletic. Or coordinated. Or cool. Pick one."

"You're literally spying on yourself right now," Maya laughed. "Like there's some version of you you're supposed to be performing, and you're judging your own show."

I stared at her. Since when did Maya get deep?

"My brother says I'm like a bear in hibernation," she continued, unexpectedly vulnerable. "Like I'm supposed to be this fierce predator but really I'm just sleeping through everything and avoiding feelings."

"You?" I practically choked. "You're like, the most put-together person I know."

"Fake news," she said, making direct eye contact for what might have been the first time ever. "The hat isn't hiding anything, you know. We can all see you. And you're actually kind of awesome."

Barnaby chose that moment to sneeze.

We both laughed. Something shifted—like a door I didn't know existed was cracking open.

"Same time next week?" Maya asked, already reaching for her phone.

"Yeah," I heard myself say. "Yeah."

The hat stayed on, but something else finally came off.