Orange Peel Summer

Jordan's iPhone buzzed for the third time in five minutes. Another notification. Another like. Another tiny hit of validation that felt like oxygen and air at the same time.

"You coming?" Maya yelled from downstairs. "Padel court reservation at three."

Jordan groaned and grabbed their vitamin D gummies – the neon orange ones that stained your tongue for hours. The wellness influencer they followed swore these were essential for "glow energy," whatever that meant. Jordan had spent the entire summer curating a version of themselves that didn't quite exist: morning jogs at sunrise (filter: golden hour), aesthetic smoothie bowls (filter: warm vintage), and now apparently, padel.

Because that's what the cool kids did.

The padel court was blistering hot, the green surface baking in July sun. Jordan's racket felt foreign in their grip, wrists weak from too much scrolling, not enough anything real. Maya served, and Jordan lunged, missing completely and nearly faceplanting.

"Bro," Maya laughed, but not meanly. "You've been posting about your 'padel journey' all week."

"I know," Jordan admitted, suddenly exhausted. "I don't even know why I started. Just seemed like something people would like."

"Yeah?" Maya raised an eyebrow. "Or you actually wanted to try something new?"

Jordan thought about it. Really thought about it – not through the lens of how it would look on their feed, or what caption would accompany the post. Just the feeling of movement, the satisfaction of connecting with the ball, the way their lungs burned when they started running across the court.

"Actually," Jordan said slowly, "it's kind of fun when I'm not overthinking it."

"Duh." Maya tossed them an orange from her bag. "Wanna play for real this time? No phones. No audience."

Jordan hesitated, then pulled out their phone and shoved it deep in their bag. The silence felt huge. Significant.

"Yeah," Jordan said, peeling the orange, sticky juice on their fingers, bright and messy and completely uncurated. "Let's play."

The ball arced through the air. Jordan didn't think about angles or aesthetics or who might be watching. Just ran.

For the first time all summer, Jordan wasn't performing.

And honestly? It felt pretty damn good.