Sphinx on the Court

The first day of sophomore year, and I'm already lowkey spiraling. Standing outside the padel courts at Crestwood High, clutching my racket like it's a lifeline. My parents spent way too much on it—like, embarrassingly too much. They're convinced that if I make varsity, somehow my entire future will magically fall into place. Ivy League, success, the whole package.

Inside my backpack, my emotional support vitamin gummies rattle around. Not the actual healthy kind my mom wants me to take—those taste like despair and artificial orange. I'm talking about the sour neon ones I smuggle in because sometimes existing at 15 feels like it requires supplementing.

"You trying out?"

I jump. It's Maya Rodriguez, who served as the sphinx of our grade last year—you know, that person who sits silently at lunch, observing everything, saying nothing, yet somehow knowing everyone's business. She's got this penetrating stare that makes you feel like she's decoding your entire soul in three seconds flat.

"Uh, yeah," I manage. "You?"

She nods, adjusting her ponytail. "Been playing since seventh grade. My abuela's obsessed."

"Oh, cool, cool." I am not cool. I am the opposite of cool. My pits are definitely sweating.

Coach blows the whistle, and we're paired up for drills. I get paired with Maya, obviously, because the universe has a sick sense of humor. I'm bracing myself for judgment—she's gonna think I'm trash, I'm gonna embarrass myself, I'll never recover socially—

But then she grins. "Your form's actually not terrible. You play tennis?"

"A little," I admit.

"Nice. We got this."

And just like that, the sphinx speaks, and she's not mysterious or intimidating anymore. She's just Maya, another kid trying to figure her stuff out.

When I get home, Barnaby—my seventy-pound golden retriever who thinks he's a lap dog—nearly tackles me at the door. Mom's in the kitchen: "How was it? Did you make friends? Did you see Jessica? Her mom said she made varsity as a freshman—"

"It was good," I say, scratching behind Barnaby's ears. "I met this girl Maya. She's cool."

"That's nice, honey. Did you take your vitamins?"

I grin. "Yeah, Mom. I took them."

The sour gummy ones are my little secret. Some days, that's what gets you through.