Courtside Confidence

The padel court smelled like rubber and teenage desperation. I adjusted my grip for the third time, conscious of everyone watching—especially Mia, leaning against the fence with her friends, laughing at something I definitely wasn't cool enough to understand.

"You're overthinking it, kid," said Jake, my sister's boyfriend, who'd somehow gotten roped into giving me lessons. "Just hit the ball."

Easy for him to say. He'd been playing since he was twelve. I'd discovered the sport yesterday, when Mia mentioned how much she loved watching the varsity team play. Now here I was, trying to transform from 'that quiet freshman' to 'padel prodigy' in one humiliating afternoon.

My older brother, Marcus—AKA The Bull, because he charged through life like he owned the place—had already warned me not to embarrass the family name. He'd inherited Dad's athletic genes and the family stubbornness. I'd gotten the anxiety and the knobbly knees.

"Game point," Jake called out.

I swung. The ball ricocheted off the wall, missed my racket completely, and smacked into the water fountain behind me. Someone whistled. Mia and her friends were definitely laughing now.

"Yo, you good, man?" It was Tyler from my history class, standing near the pool entrance with his crew. "Need a rescue mission?"

I considered faking an injury. Maybe claiming sudden blindness. But then Mia's eyes met mine, and instead of laughing, she just raised her eyebrows like she was waiting to see what I'd do.

So I grabbed another ball from the basket. I thought about Marcus, how he'd never let me hear the end of this. I thought about how tired I was of being the person who practiced conversations in the shower and still couldn't talk to girls. I thought about how the Bull would've just smashed it and strutted away.

Instead, I took a breath. Adjusted my grip one more time. And when the ball came, I didn't overthink it. I just hit it.

It sailed perfectly over the net, dropped just inside the line, and spun away before Jake could even react.

"Finally," Jake said, grinning. "Took you long enough."

Later, floating in the pool while Tyler and his friends argued about music, I watched Mia paddle over. She balanced on her pool noodle like it was a surfboard.

"That shot," she said. "That was actually kind of fire."

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Bull taught me well."

"Your brother?" She rolled her eyes. "That man's allergic to nuance. You figured it out yourself."

She splashed water at me and paddled away, and I let myself float there, chlorine in my nose, thinking maybe being the quiet freshman wasn't so bad after all.