Riddles at the Net

Maya stood at the edge of the **padel** court, her heart hammering like a trapped bird. The summer camp social had been her mom's idea—something about making friends before sophomore year. Easy for her to say. She wasn't the one standing alone while everyone else seemed to have arrived in already-formed friend clusters.

"You gonna play or just stand there looking like a **sphinx** guarding secrets?"

Maya jumped. A girl with messy braids and knee braces stood there, grinning like she knew something Maya didn't.

"I don't even know how to play," Maya admitted.

"Perfect. I'm Riley, and I'm terrible at it too." Riley tossed her a racket. "Let's be terrible together."

They were awful. Riley kept serving into the net, and Maya somehow managed to hit the ball backward. But something weird happened—every time Maya missed, she'd glance over and find Riley trying not to laugh, not at her but with her. By the third game, Maya's stomach didn't feel like it was tied in knots anymore. The nervous energy had transformed into something else—something brighter, sharper, like **lightning** in a bottle.

After the match, they sat on the bench sharing Riley's emergency **vitamin** gummies. "So," Riley said, "what's your deal? Like, who are you when you're not standing awkwardly at sports courts?"

Maya thought about it. She thought about how she'd been **swimming** through high school so far, just keeping her head above water, never really diving in. "Honestly? I don't know yet. But I think I'm figuring it out."

"Well," Riley said, bumping her shoulder, "you've got time. And hey, at least now you've got someone to be terrible at padel with."

Maya smiled—really smiled—for the first time all summer. Some things, she was learning, you couldn't figure out alone. And maybe that was the point.