Goldfish at the Padel Court

The padel court smelled like rubber and nervous sweat. I adjusted my bucket hat for the third time, trying to look like I belonged here, which I absolutely didn't.

"You ready?" Marcus called out, spinning his racquet like he owned the place. He'd been my best friend since kindergarten, back when we were both awkward nerds. Now? He was somehow cool, and I was still... figuring it out.

"Yeah, totally," I lied. My palms were sweating through my grip.

This was supposed to be casual hangout. Except Jessica was watching from the benches outside the court. THE Jessica. The one who'd sat behind me in bio and made clever comments about mitochondria. The one I'd been "lowkey hyping" over with Marcus for weeks.

Marcus served. The ball hit the glass wall behind me.

"My bad," I muttered, face burning.

Afterward, Jessica wandered over. "You guys looked intense out there."

"Oh yeah, we're basically pros," Marcus said, then ruined it by adding, "Tyler won a goldfish at the carnival yesterday."

WHAT.

Jessica's eyebrows shot up. "A goldfish?"

"Yeah," I said, scrambling. "His name is Glen. He's in a bowl on my desk. He's very philosophical."

She laughed. Not a fake laugh either. The real one.

"That's actually kind of iconic," she said. "My friend group tried to get pet fish last year and they all died within three days. Glen sounds like he's got main character energy."

We talked for twenty minutes while Marcus pretended to check his phone. She thought my terrible padel skills were endearing. She asked about Glen's personality (I said moody but misunderstood).

When she left, Marcus smirked. "So... Glen's got main character energy?"

"Shut up."

"She's coming to the rec center swimming thing Friday, by the way. In case you and Glen want to hang."

I adjusted my hat, grinning. "Tell Jessica we'll be there."