Green Smoothie Gravity

The country club pool shimmered like something off an Instagram feed, which made sense since everyone here was literally living for the 'gram. Meanwhile, I was parked on a lounge chair, fully aware that I—the scholarship kid—was about as out of place as a croc at a fashion show.

"Yo, Marcus! We need a fourth for padel!" Jake, the captain of the tennis team, yelled from the adjacent court. His PEACE sticker flashed in the sun.

I froze. I'd never even seen padel played. But Harper—Harper with the perfect messy bun and the laugh that made my chest do weird things—was already grabbing a racquet.

"Sure," I heard my mouth say. Traitor.

I grabbed a smoothie from the snack bar on the way over, needing something to do with my hands. It was bright green, full of spinach and kale and whatever else constituted "wellness" these days. I took a massive gulp as I stepped onto the court.

"You ever played?" Harper asked, spinning her racquet.

"Once or twice," I lied smoothly. "Pretty much tennis with walls, right?"

"Basically. You're with me and Jake versus Skylar and Chen."

The game started and I was somehow not terrible? My reflexes from basketball were actually translating. Harper and I were vibing, communicating in half-sentences and fist bumps. I was living my best life, honestly.

Then it happened. Jake slammed a serve directly at me. I lunged, racquet extended, made contact—and my green smoothie exploded. All. Over. My. White. Shirt.

I looked like I'd been attacked by the Hulk. Spinach dripped from my chin. The court went silent.

Harper started giggling. Then laughing. Then full-on cackling.

"Dude," she gasped, "you look like a swamp creature got into a fight with a blender."

I wiped spinach from my cheek and started laughing too. Jake was losing it. Even Skylar's perfect eyebrow raised in what might have been amusement.

"Green is definitely your color, Marcus," Harper said, eyes soft with something that might have been fondness.

I jumped into the pool after the game—fully clothed, smoothie-stained shirt and all. Harper cannonballed in right beside me.

"Same time next week?" she asked, slicking wet hair back from her face.

"Only if you bring backup smoothies," I said.

"Deal."

Floating there under the summer sky, green-stained and grinning, I figured some embarrassing moments were worth it. Even if I did smell like a salad.