Serve Anxiety

Maya's palms were sweating — like, actually dripping onto the grip of the padel racket. This was so embarrassing.

"You good, Maya?" Liam called from the other side of the court. He was in that effortlessly cool way where his hair somehow looked better messy. Meanwhile, Maya had spent forty-five minutes this morning trying to look like she hadn't tried.

"Yeah, totally," she lied. "Just... warming up."

The truth: Maya had never played padel in her life. But when Liam and his friends had invited her to join their Sunday pickup game, she'd panicked-said yes because refusing would've been social suicide. Now here she was, about to humiliate herself in front of the guy she'd been lowkey crushing on since September.

Her phone buzzed in her bag. Probably a text from her best friend: DID YOU SURVIVE YET or maybe an emergency meme for morale. But she'd left it over by the bench because apparently padel courts had this weird rule about phones during play? Or maybe she'd just been terrified of it going off at the wrong moment and everyone realizing she was That Person who checked Instagram between points.

"Alright, Maya's serve!" someone shouted.

She gripped the racket so hard her knuckles turned white. The ball came at her and she swung with way too much aggression, completely missing. The racket flew out of her hand and landed somewhere behind her with a pathetic clatter.

Everyone went quiet for exactly one second.

Then Liam started laughing. Not mean laughing — like, actually laughing.

"Yo, that was legendary," he said, grinning. "I've been playing for three years and I've never seen someone's racket just... yeet itself into orbit."

Maya's face burned. But then something unexpected happened: everyone else started laughing too. Not at her — with her.

"Okay but real talk," Chloe said, stepping forward. "Your serve was actually close until the equipment rebellion. You're naturally left-handed, right?"

Maya nodded, surprised.

"We need more lefties," Chloe said. "You're joining us next Sunday. Non-negotiable."

"Wait, really?"

"Duh," Liam said, still smiling. "Someone who can make us laugh that hard? You're officially in."

Maya looked at her palm — still slightly sweaty, but steady now. Maybe showing up as yourself, disasters and all, wasn't the worst thing after all. Maybe she'd even text her friend back later: SURVIVED. KINDA. ACTUALLY MAYBE LIKED IT?

"Alright," she said, picking up her racket. "But someone's gotta teach me how to not launch my equipment into space."

"Deal," Chloe said. "But we're keeping that video."

There was a video?

Whatever. Maya picked up the ball. Game on.