Spinach King of the Court
Marcus's stomach did backflips as he stood at the edge of the padel court, clutching his racquet like it might save him from drowning. Chloe—actual Chloe, with her perfect curls and the way she laughed with her whole body—had asked if he wanted to join the tournament. He'd said yes before his brain could process that he hadn't played padel since that one disastrous summer camp.
"You're up against Tank," someone whispered, and Marcus turned to see a wall of muscle stretching near the net. Tank was built like a bull and had the reputation of one, plowing through opponents like they were traffic cones.
No pressure.
The game started, and Marcus was everywhere at once—running himself into the ground, diving for shots he had no business reaching. His lungs burned, his legs screamed, but somehow, he was holding his own. Chloe was watching from the sidelines, actually watching, and that alone felt like main-character energy.
Then it happened.
Mid-point, Marcus's stomach let out the most ungodly sound—like a bear waking up from hibernation, hangry and ready to rage. Everyone stopped. The ball hit the court and rolled away as the silence stretched.
"Dude," Tank called from across the net, barely holding back laughter. "Was that you or did a bear escape the zoo?"
Marcus's face burned hotter than the sun. "Maybe skipped lunch," he mumbled.
"Here." Chloe appeared courtside, handing him something green and leafy. "Spinach smoothie. My brother's pre-game secret."
The texture was questionable. The taste was... questionable-er. But Marcus chugged it because Chloe made it for him, and suddenly he was returning shots like he'd been born on a padel court. He even managed to ace Tank once, which earned him actual head nods from the bull himself.
They didn't win—let's be real, this wasn't a sports movie—but Marcus walked off that court feeling like something had shifted. Maybe it was the spinach talking, or maybe it was the way Chloe grinned at him and said, "Not bad, new kid."
Either way, he'd take it.