Courtside Confidential

The hat was everything. A beat-up black dad cap with the brim perfectly curved — three years of careful adjustments to hit that sweet spot where it shielded my eyes without fully hiding my face. Essential armor when your best friend convinces you to join her at the padel courts despite having zero athletic ability.

"You're literally spiraling," Maya whispered, nudging me with her racket. "He's at the net. Third court over. Don't make it weird."

I wasn't a total creep. I'd just been mildly, reasonably, normal-amount obsessed with Jamie since seventh period English when he'd defended his interpretation of The Outsiders with the kind of passion most people reserve for, like, winning the lottery.

My friend was right, naturally. There he was — Jamie Chen, in all his athletic glory, absolutely destroying a padel match while I stood there pretending I understood the rules of this sport that was apparently tennis's cooler, trendier cousin.

"You're not even watching the game," Maya said. "You're watching him."

"I'm observing the cultural phenomenon that is padel," I lied.

So I'd become, against all my personal values and entire moral code, the world's most awkward spy. Tracking someone's padel schedule through Maya's cousin who worked the front desk. It was fine. It was normal. It was absolutely not the behavior of a future true crime podcast subject.

"Okay, you're doing that thing where you zone out and your left eyebrow twitches," Maya said. "Also, he's looking over here."

Jamie turned toward the side courts at exactly that moment, wiping sweat from his forehead with his shirt hem. Our eyes met across three courts and a lifetime of overthinking.

My hat suddenly felt insufficient.

"Is he —" Maya started, but she didn't finish because Jamie was walking over.

My brain short-circuited. "Act cool," I hissed to Maya, then immediately tripped over my own racket.

Smooth. Absolute elegance.

"Hey," Jamie said, stopping in front of us. "I've seen you here a lot lately. You play?"

I said something that might have been English.

"She's learning," Maya jumped in. "Very dedicated."

Jamie smiled and it was over for me. "We need a fourth tomorrow if you're interested. Same time?"

"Yes," I said, possibly too fast. "I mean — yeah. Sure. Cool."

"Is that your friend now?" Maya asked later in the parking lot, failing to suppress her grin.

"I don't know," I said, adjusting my hat like it could somehow hide how hard I was smiling. "But I'm definitely coming back tomorrow."