Orange Slices & Second Chances

The gym air smelled like rubber and desperation. I stood there in my neon orange headband, clutching my vitamin water like it was some kind of emotional support beverage, while Tyler — the human equivalent of a golden retriever who also happened to be my crush — stretched three feet away.

"You ready for padel club today, Mia?" he asked, flashing that smile that definitely deserved its own Instagram fan page.

"Born ready," I lied, lying being my primary love language since seventh grade.

Here's the thing about padel: it's tennis's chill cousin, but somehow I still managed to hit the ball directly into my own face during warmups. Tyler didn't laugh, which I appreciated, but the way he literally winced made it approximately one thousand times worse.

Afterward, we sat by the community pool, water dripping from our hair, sharing a bag of orange slices from the snack bar because we were both broke and basic. My phone buzzed — a text from my best friend Kayla: "DID YOU TALK TO HIM YET OR ARE YOU STILL IN BEAR MODE."

(Bear mode, Kayla's term for when I hibernate inside my own anxiety until forced to emerge by hunger or a cute boy saying actual words to me.)

"My sister says I should take more vitamins," Tyler said suddenly, staring at my vitamin water bottle. "She says I'm always tired."

"Your sister's smart," I said, then immediately regretted sounding like his mom. "I mean, like, being a teenager is exhausting. Our brains are literally remodeling themselves. It's basically construction work."

He laughed, and I felt something weird and hopeful bloom in my chest, like when you find money in old winter coat pockets.

"Hey," he said, "wanna come over Saturday? My parents got that new bear-proof camping tent for our backyard. We could roast marshmallows."

"Is this a date?" I heard myself ask, and I wanted to die, because WHO ASKS THAT.

Tyler's face turned the exact shade of my orange headband. "I mean, do you want it to be?"

The sun sparkled off the pool water behind him. My phone buzzed again — Kayla demanding updates. My vitamin water was warm. Everything was imperfect and weird and exactly right.

"Yeah," I said. "I really do."

And just like that, bear mode ended. The real game was finally starting.