Frizz & Forehands

My hair was supposed to be sleek. That was the plan before humidity decided to make me look like I'd stuck my finger in an electrical socket. I smoothed my palm over the frizz again, but it was hopeless — like my entire social life apparently.

"You coming?" Chloe called from the padel court. She was wearing a skirt that looked expensive and smiling like she didn't know how much it hurt to be the new kid who couldn't afford private lessons.

"Yeah," I lied. "Just fixing my... everything."

Padel was supposed to be the thing that finally made me normal. According to Instagram, if you weren't playing padel with your squad on weekends, were you even living? So here I was, about to embarrass myself in front of the only people I actually wanted to impress.

My sweaty palms made the racquet slippery. Great. Just great.

The game started fine — until I managed to hit the ball directly into the neighbor's yard. Where their cat, a judgmental orange tabby, sat watching like he knew I was a fraud.

"Sorry!" I called, mortified.

The cat flicked its tail and walked away. Even the neighborhood pets thought I was lame.

"You okay?" Maya asked, and something about her tone made me think she actually cared. Or maybe I was just desperate enough to believe it.

"Yeah, just... never played before. Obviously."

"We can tell," Chloe laughed, but it wasn't mean. "We were all terrible once. Even Tyler."

Tyler, who'd been quietly destroying everyone all morning, shrugged. "Took me like three months to stop hitting myself in the face with my own racquet."

I snorted before I could stop myself.

They invited me to the pool afterward. I almost said no — I didn't even know if I had a swimsuit that wouldn't make me look like I was trying too hard — but somehow I found myself swimming laps while they argued about music and who was failing algebra.

My hair was a disaster. I'd humiliated myself twice. And my palms were still sweating even though I was literally underwater.

But as Chloe tossed me a towel and Maya asked if I wanted to come back tomorrow, I realized something: nobody was judging me except myself. The cat probably wasn't even watching.

Sometimes the worst moments are just the beginning of the real ones.