Fox Court at Sunset

The orange slice stuck to my upper lip like a stupid second skin. Great. Just perfect.

"Dude, you got a little—" Maya pointed, barely suppressing a laugh.

I swiped it away, cheeks burning hotter than the July sun. Behind me, the **padel** court echoed with the *thwack-thwack* of racquets hitting balls. My brother Jake and his college friends dominated the court, all tanned muscles and effortless coordination. I sat on the sidelines like merchandise someone forgot to tag.

"You gonna play or just hold my towel?" Jake called, sweating in that way that made girls at the pool stop pretending not to stare.

"Maybe later."

Maya bumped my shoulder. "You're better than him. You just don't have the—what do they call it? Rizz?"

I snorted. So much rizz I couldn't even join a casual game without overthinking it.

The sky turned that perfect watercolor gradient, orange bleeding into purple like someone had spilled a drink across the horizon. We sat by the **water** feature—fancy name for a fountain that made everything smell vaguely like wet pennies and upscale chlorine.

Then I saw it.

A **fox**.

It materialized from the bushes like it owned the place, all russet fur and impossible grace. It stopped near the tennis **cable** that ran along the perimeter fence, watching us with golden eyes that seemed to see everything.

"Whoa," Maya breathed.

The fox tilted its head, then trotted along the cable line like it was walking a tightrope, totally unbothered by Jake's server voice yelling about someone's terrible backhand.

"You think it's lost?" I asked.

"Maybe. Or maybe it's exactly where it's supposed to be."

The fox glanced back once, then vanished into the shadows, leaving me with this strange ache in my chest. Like I'd missed something important.

Maya stood up and dusted off her shorts. "Well? You playing or not?"

I looked at the court. At Jake laughing with his friends. At the empty spot where the **fox** had been.

"Yeah." I stood up, grabbing a racquet. "Yeah, I'm playing."

Maybe I'd crash and burn. Maybe Jake's friends would think I was lame. But the fox hadn't hesitated. Why should I?