Orange Sunset on the Padel Court

The neon orange ball blurred past my ear, missing me by inches.

"You're gonna have to do better than that, rook," said Mateo, the self-proclaimed king of our school's padel club. He stood grinning on the opposite side of the court, his jersey the exact same shade as the sunset bleeding across the sky behind him.

I wiped sweat from my forehead. My phone buzzed in my bag—probably my mom asking if I'd bought orange juice for breakfast tomorrow. Typical.

Truth was, I'd only joined padel club because Sofia had mentioned it once in passing. That was three weeks ago. Now I was here, getting absolutely demolished by Mateo "The Bull" Rivera, who'd apparently been playing since birth.

"My serve," Mateo announced. He wound up like he was about to throw a punch, then unleashed it.

I flinched. The ball ricocheted off the wall, then my racket frame, then somehow landed perfectly in the corner. Point.

"That's BS," I muttered.

"That's padel, baby." He sauntered forward, suddenly not looking so arrogant. "Hey, you've got decent reflexes. You just overthink everything."

"Since when is thinking a bad thing?"

"Since it makes you freeze up." He tossed me an orange from his backpack. "You want to know why I started playing?"

I peeled it, skeptical. "To dominate?"

"Nah. My brother's the actual bull in the family—state wrestling champ, football hero, all that." Mateo shrugged. "I wanted something that was mine. Something he couldn't walk into and automatically be better at."

I blinked. That was not the monologue I'd expected.

"So why do YOU play?" he asked.

I thought about Sofia, who'd never shown up to a single practice. I thought about my parents asking when I'd join a "real" sport. I thought about how weirdly satisfying it felt when my racket actually connected with the ball, that perfect *pop* sound.

"I don't know," I said finally. "Maybe I just like not being terrible at something for once."

Mateo grinned. "Well, you're getting there. Same time tomorrow?"

"You're on, Bull."

"Only my brothers call me that," he said, tossing the ball back. "Don't push it, rook."

As I walked home, peeling the rest of the orange, I realized my phone had been buzzing for five minutes straight.

Sofia: hey heard u joined padel

Sofia: thinking of checking it out tomorrow

Sofia: save me a spot?

I stared at my screen, the sunset now fully gone, and smiled. Maybe some things worked out better when you weren't trying so hard to make them happen.

Tomorrow, I'd be ready. And I'd definitely bring extra oranges.