Orange Crush at the Court

My hair was doing that thing again — that awkward flippy thing on the left side that refused to cooperate with anything except a hat. Which I couldn't wear because hats were strictly "not aesthetic" according to Chloe, who was currently waiting for me at the padel courts.

"You're late!" she called out, already stretching against the chain-link fence. Her perfectly straight bob somehow defied humidity itself. "Did you actually do it?"

I patted my backpack nervously. "Yeah. But I feel like I'm carrying contraband."

"You literally are." Chloe laughed, tossing me a racquet. "My mom would kill me if she knew I was taking this."

The vitamin D supplements clinked in my pocket — Chloe's latest scheme to fix her pale complexion before spring formal. Apparently, sun without the sun damage was the new glow-up hack she'd read about on TikTok.

We were midway through our second set when I spotted him.

Marcus.

He was leaning against the orange bench near the entrance, petting this tiny dog that looked like it weighed approximately three pounds. His hair curled perfectly at the nape of his neck, the kind of effortless that probably took actual effort.

"Don't look now," I whispered to Chloe, "but Marcus is literally right there."

Chloe missed the ball entirely. It bounced pathetically off her racquet and rolled toward his feet.

"Nice form," I muttered.

"Shut up, you try hitting a padel ball when your crush is watching."

Marcus's dog — a cream-colored puffball with a bow in its own hair — trotted over to investigate the ball.

"That's Butter," Marcus called, walking over. "She thinks everything is hers."

I stood there frozen, hair doing its rebellious thing, holding a racquet like it was a foreign object. "Cool... name?"

"Yeah, my sister named her." He smiled, and I felt my face heat up. "You guys play often?"

"Every Thursday," Chloe said smoothly, recovering faster than I was. "We could use a fourth if you ever want to join."

"Seriously?" Marcus actually looked interested. "That'd be sick."

As he bent down to scoop up Butter and the ball, the orange from his t-shirt — a perfect match to the bench behind him — caught the afternoon light. I caught Chloe's eye. She was practically vibrating with suppressed excitement.

"Next Thursday then?" I managed, sounding almost normal.

"Count on it." Marcus waved with his free hand, Butter's paw somehow also waving from the crook of his arm.

"You just invited Marcus to play padel," Chloe whispered once he was out of earshot. "This is literally the best day of your life."

I touched my hair self-consciously, watching him walk away. "Maybe," I said. "But next Thursday, I'm definitely using conditioner."