Second Serve

Marcus's baseball cleats clunked against the patio tiles—the dead giveaway of someone who didn't belong at the Pine Valley Country Club. His mom's new boyfriend had invited them for the weekend, and now Marcus stood there wearing his lucky Padres shirt while everyone else rocked pastel polos and boat shoes.

'Tennis?' Chelsea asked from across the snack table, gesturing toward the courts with her papaya-adorned smoothie. 'My dad's got a guest spot open at two.'

Marcus's heart did that embarrassing flutter thing. Chelsea. The girl whose Instagram stories made his stomach drop. 'Oh, I play—'

'Baseball,' someone snickered. 'We know.'

'Actually,' Marcus straightened up, 'I'm trying new things. I've been getting into padel.' The word tasted wrong on his tongue—he'd literally just read about it on Reddit that morning.

Chelsea's eyebrows shot up. 'No way. My friends and I play every weekend. You should join!'

Crap.

Forty minutes later, Marcus stood on a padel court, sweating through his Padres shirt while Chelsea handed him a racquet. The ball came at him fast, all weird spins and bounces off the glass walls. He swung like he was batting cleanup and missed entirely, stumbling backward and knocking over a massive jug of ice water that drenched his socks.

Everyone went quiet.

But then Chelsea started laughing. Not mean laughing. The kind where her nose crinkled and she had to wipe her smoothie mustache. 'Dude, you swing like you're trying to knock it into the parking lot. Here.'

She moved behind him, adjusting his grip. Her hands were sticky-sweet from the papaya. 'Padel's not baseball. It's about control. Smaller swings.'

Marcus's face burned, but for the first time all day, it wasn't from embarrassment.

'Again?' she asked.

'Again.' He adjusted his stance, the court still slick with spilled water, his socks squishing uncomfortably, and for some reason, he couldn't stop smiling.