Goldfish on the Baseline

Maya's stomach did backflips as she stepped onto the padel court. PE with the popular kids—basically a social minefield where one wrong move meant three weeks of side-eye in the cafeteria.

"You got this, Maya," Leo whispered, tossing her a vitamin C gummy. "Pre-game ritual."

She caught it mid-air. Leo with his intentional bedhead and vintage band tees had been her rock since sixth grade, when she'd cried behind the bleachers because her crush didn't know she existed. Some things didn't change—except now her crush was standing across the net, checking his phone.

Tyler caught her staring. His signature fox smirk—that calculating, I-know-something-you-don't tilt of the lips—made her face burn. He'd been different since summer. Something had shifted.

"Teams!" Coach Dixon yelled.

Of course. Maya and Tyler, paired together because the universe hated her.

First point. Tyler's serve slammed near her backhand. She lunged, returning it weakly. He laughed—that warm, annoying sound that made her insides feel like soda bubbles.

"You're playing like you're scared of the ball, May." He moved closer, voice dropping. "Like that goldfish we won at eighth grade carnival. Remember? You named him Bubbles and he lasted three days."

She almost missed the next return. "How do you remember that?"

"I remember everything." His phone buzzed. He checked it, then pocketed it, stepping into her space. "Especially the stuff that matters."

The ball bounced between them, forgotten. Her heart hammered so hard she thought it might jump out of her chest.

"You've been avoiding me since school started," he said quietly. "I thought we were past the whole 'ignore Tyler because he's popular' phase."

"You're the one who changed!" She gestured wildly. "You got all—" she motioned at him "—confident and wearing cologne and playing padel like you're training for the Olympics."

His fox smirk softened into something real. "Maya. I changed for you."

Behind them, Leo shouted, "LESS TALKING, MORE PLAYING! We've got a game to win!"

Tyler's phone buzzed again. This time he ignored it completely. "So? Friends again? Or do I need to win you back with another carnival goldfish?"

She laughed, something bright and bubbling up. "Bubbles II better live longer than three days."

He grinned—genuine this time, no smirk. "Deal."