Pyramid Schemes and Zombie Sprints

The Friday night lights at the rec center were blinding, or maybe that was just my exhaustion talking. I'd been running on three hours of sleep and a vanilla latte, basically functioning like a member of the walking dead. No joke, I was giving zombie performance before it was cool.

"You coming to the padel court tomorrow?" Maya asked, not looking up from her phone. She was at the top of our school's social pyramid, the kind of person who made everything look effortless while the rest of us were down here trying not to trip over our own feet.

"Maybe?" I lied. I'd never even played padel, but admitting that felt like admitting I still watched Disney Channel.

The indoor court was packed after school. Maya and her friends were already there, laughing like they were in a commercial for something expensive. I grabbed a racket and stood there like I'd just materialized from a cornfield.

"You ever played before?" Some guy asked me. Jason. He was in my history class, basically invisible but in a way that made you want to know him better.

"Is it that obvious?"

He laughed. Actually laughed. "You're holding the racket like it's about to bite you."

Outside, lightning flashed against the windows. The storm we'd all been checking our phones for had finally arrived. Thunder shook the building and someone screamed, but Jason just served the ball like nothing was happening.

We played for twenty minutes while the world outside went full apocalyptic. I was terrible, my arms felt like noodles, and I was sweating through my shirt. But for the first time in forever, I wasn't worried about where I sat in the pyramid or who was watching.

"You're actually not terrible," Jason said afterward, as we stood watching the rain pound against the glass doors. "For a beginner."

"I'll take that."

"Same time next week?"

I looked over at Maya and her crew, still at their court, still performing. Then I looked at Jason, who wasn't performing anything. Just being.

"Yeah," I said, and realized I meant it. "Same time next week."