Lightning on Court Three

Maya pressed her **palm** against the chain-link fence, heart pounding like she'd just finished a 5K instead of just standing there watching. She was technically just waiting for her ride, but everyone knew the truth — she was totally **spy**ing on Jake's **padel** match like the certified stalker she was.

"You're being so extra," Chloe had said that morning while applying lip gloss in the bathroom mirror. "Just talk to him like a normal person."

Normal people didn't have panic attacks when their crush walked past in the hallway. Normal people didn't memorize his class schedule just to accidentally bump into him between periods. Maya was not living that normal life.

Through the fence, she watched Jake smash the ball against the back wall. His shaggy hair stuck to his forehead in the humidity. Why was sweating attractive now? What was wrong with her?

The sky chose that moment to crack open. **Lightning** flashed across the darkening clouds like someone had taken a flash photo of the entire parking lot.

"Everyone off the courts!" the coach yelled through a megaphone.

Perfect. Now she'd have to talk to him while waiting out the storm under the overhang. Maya's stomach did that awful twisting thing it always did when social interaction became inevitable.

Players and spectators sprinted toward the covered area. Maya stood frozen until she felt actual raindrops on her arms. Then she was **running**, weaving through clusters of people who moved with maddening slowness.

She slid under the metal roof just as the sky opened up completely. And there he was, grabbing his gear bag from the bench, looking like he'd just played in a hurricane. Their eyes met.

Maya's brain supplied absolutely zero words. Her entire vocabulary had temporarily left the chat.

"Hey, you're Maya, right? From AP Bio?"

She managed something that might have been "yeah" but also could have been interpreted as a small animal dying.

"Cool," he said, smiling like this was totally casual and not the most important moment of Maya's entire sixteen years of existence. "I'm Jake. Obviously."

"Obviously," she repeated, and oh my god, what was she doing.

The rain thundered down on the metal roof. Jake's phone buzzed. He checked it and sighed. "My mom's stuck in traffic. Can't pick me up for like, thirty minutes."

"Same," Maya lied blatantly. Her mom wasn't even coming for another hour.

"Wanna get food? There's a café inside."

Maya didn't know whether to scream, cry, or throw up. Instead she said, "That would be... actually perfect."

As they walked toward the building, she secretly high-fived herself in her head. Being creepy had totally paid off.