Courtside Thunder

Maya stood at the edge of the padel court, clutching her borrowed racquet like it might electrocute her. The new kid—Leo, with his annoying perfect hair and easy grin—was already warming up against the backglass, hitting shots that made that satisfying *thwack* sound everyone at school couldn't stop talking about.

"You coming or what?" Leo called, spinning the ball on his racquet strings like he'd been doing this his whole life.

"Yeah, just—giving myself a pep talk," Maya muttered. Which was half true. The other half was that she'd taken like three vitamin gummies that morning because her friend Chloe swore they helped with "game day nerves," and now she was wondering if that was even a thing or if Chloe just wanted her to crash and burn.

The game started, and honestly? Maya was terrible. But Leo didn't laugh when she missed the ball by three feet. He didn't even look annoyed when she served directly into the net three times in a row.

"Here," he said, moving to her side of the court. "Try holding it like this."

His fingers brushed hers, and Maya's stomach did that thing—like lightning strike nerves, sudden and bright and absolutely terrifying. She pulled her hand back way too fast.

"Sorry," they both said at the same time.

The sky opened up then, rain sheeting down so hard they had to dash for the covered area beside the pool. The swimming pool was churning in the storm, water slopping over the edges like it was trying to escape its concrete borders.

"So," Leo said, shaking rain from his hair like a dog. "You, uh, playing in the tournament next weekend?"

Maya laughed. "Dude, did you SEE me back there? I'm officially retiring from padel. Going out on a high note."

"You weren't that bad," Leo said, and he sounded like he meant it. "Besides, tournaments are more fun when you're not supposed to win. That's what my brother says. He's, like, actually good, but he plays worse because he cares too much."

Maya looked at him—really looked at him. The rain had made his hair curl slightly at the ends. His shirt was soaked through. And he was still holding his racquet like maybe he hoped they'd keep playing.

"Maybe," Maya said. "I mean, I could lose dramatically. Make a scene."

Leo's grin widened. "Now we're talking. I'll bring extra vitamin gummies. For, you know, the dramatics."

The rain kept falling, but Maya didn't mind. Something about being the worst player on the court with someone who didn't care felt like exactly the kind of failure she could get used to.