Padel Court Confidential

Finn stared at his phone, doom-scrolling through Skylar's Instagram for the third time that hour. His pet goldfish, Bubbles, floated in its bowl on his desk, probably judging him for being such a creep.

"You're right," Finn told the fish. "I need to stop cyber-stalking and make a move."

His best mate Kai had convinced him to join the padel club at school, apparently where Skylar played every Friday. Finn had never even held a racquet before, but desperate times called for desperate measures. The things you do for a crush, honestly.

At the courts, Finn spotted her immediately — Skylar in those oversized shorts that made him feel weak in the knees. She was laughing with her friends, completely unaware of his existence.

"You're going down," said some random Year 11 guy, slamming his racquet against the fence.

"Bring it," Finn shot back, surprising himself. When did he get so bold? Maybe he was channeling his inner fox — sly and adaptable. Or maybe he was just an idiot.

The game was a disaster. Finn tripped over his own feet, somehow hit the ball into the next court, and his ponytail kept whipping him in the face. Skylar definitely saw everything.

"Nice form," she called out, deadpan.

Finn's face burned. Could this get any worse?

But then she actually walked over, and suddenly she was right there with that signature half-smile that haunted his dreams.

"I'm Skylar."

"Finn."

"I know." She raised an eyebrow. "You're the guy who keeps watching my stories at exactly 11:47 PM every night."

Oh god. He really WAS a spy.

"That's..." Finn started.

"Cute," she finished. "A little obsessive, but cute. Want to grab bubble tea?"

That night, Finn told Bubbles everything. Sometimes being a spy wasn't about being stealthy — it was about being brave enough to finally be seen.