Smash Point Thunder

Maya's palms were sweating so bad she could practically fill a water bottle. Standing at the padel court, clipboard in hand, watching Jake—the guy she'd been lowkey crushing since September—warm up with his serve, she felt like she might throw up.

"You good, Maya?" Chloe asked, popping her gum. "You look like you're about to pass out."

"I'm chill," Maya lied. "Just... really focused on the stats. For the yearbook committee. Obviously."

Right. The yearbook committee. That's why she'd volunteered to track the tournament stats. Totally not because Jake had mentioned yesterday at lunch that his padel team needed a scorekeeper for regionals, and she'd practically broken her arm raising her hand.

The first set was a mess. Jake's team was down 4-2, and every time he missed a shot, he'd run his hand through his hair and Maya's heart would do that stupid fluttery thing that made her feel like a middle schooler with her first crush. Which she definitely wasn't. She was sixteen. She was sophisticated.

Then the sky turned that weird greenish color that everyone knows means trouble.

"Should we bail?" Chloe asked as the first fat raindrop splatted onto the court.

"Five more minutes!" Jake shouted from across the net, grinning. "We're making a comeback!"

And then—CRACK.

A lightning bolt struck the light pole beside the court. The flash was so bright Maya saw spots, and the thunder shook her teeth. Everyone screamed. Someone's racket went flying.

In the chaos, Maya scrambled to help gather the equipment. She reached for a ball at the same time as Jake did. Their hands brushed—his palm warm against hers, still gripping the padel racket like his life depended on it.

"You okay?" he asked, looking at her with those stupidly brown eyes.

"Yeah," she managed, though her voice came out three octaves higher than usual. "Just... you know. Nearly died. No biggie."

He laughed. Actually laughed. "That was legit, though. You're actually pretty cool for someone who volunteers to keep stats."

Her heart did the fluttery thing again. But then: "Cool? For someone who keeps stats? Wow. Thanks."

He froze. "I didn't mean—"

Maya grabbed her clipboard and stood up, suddenly way more done with this day than she'd been five minutes ago. "I think I'm gonna head inside. Before, you know, the sky tries to kill us again."

But as she walked away, Jake called after her: "Hey! I meant you're cool, period! You wanna—I don't know—hang out after this? If we survive?"

Maya turned back. The rain was coming down harder now, plastering her hair to her forehead, and Jake looked ridiculous standing there with his racket, smiling like an idiot.

She grinned. Maybe nearly getting struck by lightning wasn't the worst way to start a conversation.

"Check if we survive first," she called back. "Then we'll talk."