Sphinx on the Padel Court

The stuffed bear sat on my bed, judging me with its one missing eye. I'd promised myself I'd throw it out freshman year, but here we were, three months into sophomore year, and Barnaby was still very much present. My mom called me her little bear, which was mortifying enough without the physical evidence of my childhood clinging to my mattress.

"You coming to the courts?" Maya called from my doorway. She was already dressed in her cute pink padel outfit—because apparently regular tennis wasn't trendy enough anymore. Padel was the new everything at Northwood High. If you didn't play, you basically didn't exist.

"I guess," I sighed, grabbing my racket. "Unless I can successfully fake a sudden-onset terminal illness."

"You're so dramatic," she rolled her eyes. "Besides, Egypt's playing today."

And there it was. The real reason I'd agreed to embarrass myself on a padel court for the third time this week. Egypt Robinson, who everyone called Sphinx because she was gorgeous and mysterious and apparently incapable of giving a straight answer to anything. She'd transferred to our school in September and had spent the last six months being an enigma in oversized hoodies and beat-up Converse.

"She's not even that good," I lied. I'd watched her play from the bench last week. She was terrifyingly good.

"Right. That's why you spent all of yesterday's practice staring at her backhand instead of, you know, actually learning to hit the ball." Maya smirked. "Come on, bear. Let's go get destroyed."

The nickname slipped out sometimes. She claimed it was because I hibernated in my room too much. I claimed it was because she was trying to ruin my life socially.

When we got to the courts, Sphinx was already there, stretching in that effortless way that made everything look like a dance routine. I tried to look anywhere else and failed.

"Hey!" She waved, actually waved, at me. "You're in my mixed doubles bracket for the tournament."

My brain short-circuited. "Oh. Cool. Cool cool cool."

Why did I say it twice? Why did I say it at all? This was it. This was my rock bottom.

She laughed, though. A real laugh, not the polite one I'd heard her give other people. "You're funny. I like that."

The tournament was a disaster. I tripped over my own feet twice. I hit the ball into the fence so many times the coach finally told me to aim for the court instead of my own dignity. But Sphinx didn't seem to care. Every time I messed up, she'd just shrug and say something like, "Rookie mistake," or "At least you didn't hit me this time."

After we lost—badly, humiliatingly bad—she sat next to me on the bench while everyone else packed up.

"You know," she said, "my little sister has that same bear. The one with the missing eye."

I froze. "You've been in my room?"

"No, you dummy." She smiled, and it was different from her other smiles. Realer. "You posted a pic on your story last semester. You were sleeping, and Barnaby was basically using you as a pillow." She paused. "It was cute."

I didn't know what to do with that information. My face was definitely doing something weird.

"Look," she said, standing up. "I practice on Saturdays at the rec center. If you want to not be terrible at padel, you could join me. No pressure."

"I'm probably a lost cause," I managed.

"Maybe." She shouldered her bag. "But I'm willing to find out. See you around, bear."

She called me bear. Not in a weird way. Not in a making-fun-of-me way. In a way that made something in my chest feel like it was unclenching for the first time in months.

I walked home with Maya, who was grinning like she knew exactly what had happened. Maybe she did. Maybe that's why she'd dragged me to the courts in the first place.

When I got to my room, Barnaby was still sitting on my pillow, missing eye and all. I didn't put him in the closet this time.