Goldfish & Padel Summers

The goldfish—I'd named him Neptune—stared at me through the glass with that same dead-eyed look I'd been giving myself all summer. My parents had left me "in charge" while they toured Europe, which mostly meant I was supposed to keep my little sister's pet alive and not burn down the house.

Instead, I'd spent three weeks rotting on the couch, binge-watching reruns on cable until my brain felt like processed cheese. That's when Mia slid into my DMs: *You playing padel tomorrow? New kid Leo's bringing his gear.*

Padel. The sport that had taken over our school's social hierarchy overnight. If you didn't play, you didn't exist. And I definitely didn't exist.

But something about Neptune's judgmental orange eyes made me type back: *I'll be there.*

The court was behind the community center, cracked asphalt surrounded by chain-link fences where the popular kids gathered like they owned the place. My borrowed racket felt wrong in my hand—too light, too expensive, too much like I was trying too hard.

"You're up," Leo said. He had that effortless cool that made my chest hurt. "Don't overthink it. Just hit the thing."

The ball came at me and I swung—hard. Connected with the glass wall instead. The metallic *PING* echoed as my racket clattered to the ground.

Everyone laughed. But not mean-laughed. Real laughed.

"Dude," Mia grinned, high-fiving me. "That was honestly impressive. I didn't know you could miss that badly."

Leo tossed me another ball. "Again. But maybe aim for the ball this time?"

I played until my arms shook and my shirt clung to my back. We lost every game, and somehow it didn't matter. For the first time all summer, I wasn't watching other people live their lives through a screen.

That night, I sprinkled extra flakes into Neptune's bowl. He swam to the surface, mouth opening and closing like he had something to say.

"Yeah," I told him. "I know."