Crush Protocol

Maya's crush on Jake had reached DEFCON 1 levels. She'd spent all week crafting the perfect plan to accidentally-on-purpose bump into him at the padel courts after school, but her best friend Layla had other ideas.

"You're literally going to reveal yourself," Layla said, scrolling through her phone with practiced teenage dramatic flair. "We should spy on him first. You know, recon. Like, what's his vibe? Does he actually play padel or is he just there to look cool in those ridiculous knee sleeves?"

Maya rolled her eyes so hard she almost saw her brain. "First of all, I'm not 'revealing myself'—that's so not the word. Second, we're not going to spy on him like weirdos."

"Um, excuse me?" Layla held up her phone. "His public insta story literally shows him at the orange juice place by the courts every Tuesday. That's not stalking, that's data collection."

The following Tuesday, Maya found herself wedged behind a perfectly positioned potted plant at said orange juice place, wearing sunglasses indoors (Layla's idea, obviously) while pretending to be deeply interested in a textbook she'd brought as camouflage.

"Psst," Layla hissed. "Eleven o'clock. Target acquired."

Jake walked in, and Maya's stomach did that thing where it forgot how to organ. He ordered something, then—oh god—he was walking toward their table.

"Hey," he said, looking directly at Maya. "You're in my chem class, right?"

Maya's brain short-circuited. She opened her mouth to respond coolly and confidently, but what came out was: "I like oranges."

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Cool. Cool vibe."

Layla was vibrating with suppressed laughter behind her phone.

"Anyway," Jake continued, "my padel partner bailed. You want to hit some balls around?"

Maya's soul briefly left her body. "I—what?"

"Padel," he said, gesturing toward the courts. "You play?"

"She's practically a pro," Layla interjected, having apparently appointed herself Maya's agent. "She'll destroy you."

Jake grinned. "We'll see about that."

As they walked toward the courts, Maya couldn't decide if she wanted to high-five Layla or "accidentally" trip her. But when Jake handed her a racquet and their fingers brushed, she decided: today wasn't the day for petty revenge. Today was the day she finally learned how to play padel, apparently.

"So," Jake said, bouncing a ball. "You come here often?"

Maya laughed. "That line is straight-up bull, Jake."

"Yeah," he admitted, looking almost embarrassed. "I know. I panicked."

Funny, Maya thought. So did I.