Padel Court Protocol

I'd been at Lincoln High for exactly three weeks when I found myself clutching a padel racquet like it might save me from social extinction. The freshman tryouts were happening in twenty minutes, and I was hiding behind the orange mesh fence, spying on the juniors who ruled the courts like they owned them.

That's when I saw her—the girl everyone called the Sphinx. Chloe something. She leaned against the backstop, hair dark and tangled like a riddle waiting to be solved. Nobody knew much about her except that she never spoke first and always wore oversized hoodies regardless of the weather.

"You gonna stand there all day?" She didn't look at me, but her voice carried across the court.

I nearly dropped my racquet. "Just... watching. First time trying out."

Chloe turned, and for the first time, I noticed her eyes—this weird golden color, like papaya flesh right when it's perfectly ripe. "You're holding it wrong."

She walked over and corrected my grip without asking, her fingers calloused and sure. "Hit it like a tennis racket and you'll miss everything. Padel's about control, not power."

"Since when do you give tips to freshmen?" The words were out before I could stop them, and I flinched. Nice way to blow it before tryouts even started.

But the Sphinx just smirked—a tiny, almost invisible thing. "Since you looked like you might throw up behind that orange fence. My brother did that last year."

We ended up practicing for an hour while the popular kids ignored us completely. Chloe wasn't mysterious at all, really. She was just quiet, and the mystery was something other people had invented because they couldn't handle someone who didn't perform for them.

"They call you the Sphinx, you know," I said later, sitting on the bench while we shared a papaya she'd somehow produced from her bag.

"People love labeling things they can't figure out." She sliced the fruit with precise, practiced motions. "Easier than actually talking to someone."

The bell rang, signaling the end of tryouts. I hadn't even gone on the court yet, but somehow I'd made the team anyway. Not because I'd played some amazing game or impressed the coaches.

Because I'd talked to the Sphinx, and apparently that was enough.

"Same time tomorrow?" she asked, already walking away.

"Yeah." I grinned, finally feeling like I might actually survive high school. "Same time."