Spinach Smile and Summer Storms

The orange uniform felt like a mistake before I even stepped onto the court. Padel tryouts. Because apparently, my baseball-loving father decided I needed to be "well-rounded" and signed me up for the one sport I knew nothing about.

"You got this,Marcus," Chloe said, but her attention was already drifting toward the courts where the older kids played. Chloe with the perfect hair and effortless everything. The same Chloe I'd been lowkey crushing on since seventh grade health class.

I positioned myself near the back wall, trying to look like I knew what I was doing. The coach blew his whistle, and suddenly a ball was flying toward me at lightning speed. I swung, missed completely, and my racket somehow clattered against the metal fence.

"Smooth," someone whispered. I didn't need to look up to know it was Tyler, whose entire personality was being annoyingly good at every sport.

But then something weird happened. Chloe laughed—like, actually laughed—and glanced over at me. Not the pity laugh either. The real one.

After tryouts, my dad took us for "celebratory" smoothies. I ordered the green one because the name sounded cool, forgetting it was basically liquefied spinach. I took a giant gulp while trying to make conversation with Chloe.

"So, uh, you play padel a lot?"

She smiled. Then she made a face. "Marcus, you have—" she gestured at her own teeth, "—yeah, lots of it."

I rushed to the bathroom mirror. Green. Everywhere. I looked like I'd been eating grass.

When I came back, Chloe was still there, scrolling through her phone but waiting. She didn't mention the spinach thing again. Instead, she said, "My cousin plays baseball for varsity. He says tryouts next week are gonna be brutal. Want me to ask him for tips?"

The orange uniform didn't feel so stupid anymore. Some storms, I realized, brought the weirdest rainbows.