Padel Court Lightning Strike

My hair was a disaster. I'd spent forty-five minutes trying to perfect that messy-but-cute look Mia always pulled off, but I'd ended up looking like I'd stuck my finger in an electrical socket.

I was at the community center padel courts with Mateo, the friend who'd somehow become my entire social life since seventh grade. We were playing our usual Friday afternoon match, though "match" was generous given how thoroughly he was destroying me.

"Aim for the lines, Sofía!" he shouted, diving for my latest weak attempt at a serve.

"You try aiming with this humidity!" I yelled back, swatting at my frizzing hair.

Then actual lightning split the sky above us, so close I could taste ozone.

"Yo, we gotta go!" Mateo abandoned the game instantly, grabbing his backpack.

But I couldn't move. Another bolt struck somewhere behind the courts, illuminating the parking lot where Luca—who'd graduated last year and still haunted my thoughts whenever his stupid perfect face crossed my mind—was leaning against his motorcycle, watching the storm roll in.

"Sofía!" Mateo grabbed my wrist. "Come on!"

I let him drag me toward the covered area near the snack bar. My heart was hammering from something that definitely wasn't the game anymore.

"You good?" he asked, breathless.

"You know how I feel about storms," I managed.

Thunder rattled the metal roof above us and I flinched. Mateo didn't laugh. He just squeezed my shoulder, solid and warm beside me.

"It'll pass," he said.

Then the community center's mechanical bull—why they'd installed it for the summer festival, nobody knew—started up outside. Through the rain, I watched it bucking wildly against the darkening sky, looking ridiculous and defiant all at once.

"Yo, that thing is going to electrocute itself," I said, and Mateo actually laughed.

When the storm finally broke, Mateo walked me home. We stopped at my driveway and he did that thing where he looked at me like he was about to say something important, then didn't.

"You're the worst at padel," he said instead, knocking my shoulder with his.

"Yeah, well." I smoothed my wrecked hair. "At least I survived both you and the lightning."

He grinned. "There's always next week."

I watched him walk away and realized I'd survived something else too—the terrifying moment when Mateo had grabbed my wrist and my first thought wasn't about Luca at all.