Crush at the Net

The fluorescent lights of the community center hummed above me as I choked down another chalky **vitamin** C tablet. Dad swore these would boost my immune system, but honestly, the only thing sickening me was the prospect of trying out for varsity **padel** without embarrassing myself completely.

"You're gonna crush it, Maya," said Lila, bouncing on the balls of her feet beside me. She was everything I wasn't: effortless confidence, varsity jacket already earned, and somehow still managing to look flawless after two hours of practice.

I felt like a **zombie**. Between AP classes, the padel obsession I'd developed over summer, and my parents' divorce finally settling into this weird new normal, I was running on fumes and iced coffee.

"Maya! You're up!" Coach Miller's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts.

My hands shook as I gripped the paddle. Across the net stood Liam—sophomore, swim team captain, and the reason I'd signed up for padel camp in the first place. His hair was still damp from morning **swimming** practice, and I'd spent way too many psychology classes pretending not to stare at the back of his neck.

First serve went into the net. So much for crushing it.

"Try again," Liam called, and there was something in his voice—not pity, not annoyance. Something else.

Second serve clipped the tape and dribbled over. We rallied back and forth, the sharp *pok* of the ball against paddles filling my ears until the overhead lights flickered—once, twice—then **lightning** flashed beyond the skylights, illuminating everything in sudden, stark clarity.

The whole gym gasped as thunder rattled the windows. In that split second of weird blue light, Liam was looking right at me, really seeing me—not the new girl, not the one who'd just double-faulted, just... me.

"Your form's actually solid," he said as we gathered our gear. "You just tense up when you think too much."

Heat crawled up my neck. "Is it that obvious?"

He laughed, and it sounded different than when he was joking with his friends. "Pretty sure everyone overthinks when someone they're trying to impress is watching."

The lights stabilized. The gym buzzed back to normal. But something had shifted—tiny and electric, like the moment before a storm breaks, and I realized I didn't need vitamins or varsity jackets or perfect serves. I just needed to show up.

"Same time tomorrow?" I asked, and Liam's smile was all the answer I needed.