Signal Lost

Maya's first week at summer camp felt like she was perpetually two seconds behind everyone else's inside jokes. Meanwhile, her roommate Sasha had already appointed herself social director of Cabin 7, gathering followers like wifi signals in a dead zone.

"You coming to padel?" Sasha asked, bouncing on her toes as she adjusted her scrunchie. "Tyler and his friends are gonna be there."

Padel. The sport nobody back home played but apparently was THE thing here. Maya nodded, even though her hand-eye coordination was tragic. She'd been "running" from athletics since seventh grade gym class humiliation, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

The court buzzed with energy. Tyler—tall, effortlessly cool, wearing a backwards hat that should've looked ridiculous but somehow worked—passed Maya a racquet.

"Ever played?" he asked.

"Nope," Maya said, popping the p. "But I'm fast at... fleeing situations?"

He laughed. Actually laughed. Not pity-laughed. Maya's stomach did that annoying flippy thing.

Their match was a disaster, but not in the way Maya expected. She missed every serve, hit the fence twice, and managed to trip over her own feet. But Tyler kept making self-deprecating jokes about his own skills, and Maya found herself actually having fun. Until Sasha swooped in with her Instagram-ready smile and suggested Maya sit out the next round so "better players" could take over.

Maya grabbed her towel and fled toward the lake, her face burning. She'd been here TWO WEEKS and somehow still felt like the new girl.

That night, Maya sat on the dock, feet dangling in the water, using her phone flashlight to search for signal. The camp wifi was basically a myth—a single ethernet cable the counselors guarded like state secrets. She just wanted to text her best friend back home, someone who'd never make her feel like the awkward backup friend.

"Mind if I sit?"

Tyler. Of course.

"Sure," Maya said, tucking stray hair behind her ear. "Just trying to find enough bars to send a text. It's like the internet doesn't exist past the highway."

He sat beside her, close enough that she could smell his soap—something citrusy. "Sasha can be... a lot. My sister says she's just insecure, but honestly? She's kind of exhausting."

Maya blinked. "You noticed?"

"Everyone notices," he said. "But you're good at padel for a beginner. You've got good instincts."

"I literally hit the fence. Twice."

"Yeah but you recovered fast. That's what matters."

They sat in comfortable silence, watching the moon reflect on the water like scattered diamonds. Maya's chest felt weirdly light, like she'd been swimming underwater for weeks and finally come up for air.

"Hey," Tyler said suddenly. "Some of us are going into town tomorrow. The WiFi café has actual working cable internet. We're gonna watch some show Netflix just dropped. You should come."

Maya's heart did that flippy thing again. "Like... with you guys?"

"Yeah. You're funny, Maya. And you don't take yourself too seriously. That's rare here."

Maybe camp wouldn't be so bad after all. Sometimes the best connections aren't the ones with the strongest signal.