Spinach Teeth & Padel Courts

The spinach smoothie was definitely a mistake.

Leo stood at the baseline of the padel court, his heart hammering against his ribs. Maya—the girl who'd transferred to Hamilton High three weeks ago and somehow already had everyone talking about her—was waiting for him to serve. Across the net, Jake Miller was doing that thing where he smirked like he knew something Leo didn't.

"You gonna serve or what, man?" Jake called, spinning his racket handle.

Leo swallowed hard. His mouth tasted like the unholy lovechild of a garden and a chemistry experiment. He'd chugged the spinach smoothie his nutritionist aunt swore would "unlock his athletic potential" exactly seven minutes before tryouts started. Now, with the entire JV tennis club watching, Leo's first impression was going to be

well.

He tossed the ball up. His racket connected with nothing but air.

The ball bonked off his forehead and rolled toward the fence.

Someone giggled. Leo's face flamed hotter than the sun.

"Smooth," Maya said. But she wasn't laughing. She was watching him with this expression he couldn't read.

"My bad," Leo muttered, chasing the ball. When he straightened up, Jake was whispering something to his friend, both of them glancing at Leo and cracking up. That's when Leo realized: the smoothie hadn't just tasted like liquid lawn. It had left behind a festive green mustache above his upper lip.

He'd been standing there with spinach teeth for ten minutes.

The next twenty seconds were a blur. Leo wiped his mouth with his wrist, grabbed his bag, and speed-walked toward the exit, leaving his dignity somewhere near the service line.

"Hey!" Maya's voice chased him. "You forgot your—"

"Keep it," he called back, not turning around. He'd buy another racket. He'd transfer schools. He'd change his name and move to Alaska.

He was halfway across the parking lot when he heard footsteps behind him.

"You know," Maya's voice came, "my little brother calls me 'Bear' because I'm always hungry after practice."

Leo stopped. Turned around slowly.

Maya stood there with his racket in one hand, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Also, last month? At my old school? I walked around with chocolate smeared across my forehead for like four hours because nobody told me."

Leo stared at her. "Seriously?"

"Third period lunch." She extended the racket toward him. "So. You gonna teach me how to actually hit that backhand, or what?"

Leo's face was still hot. But something in his chest had loosened. "My backhand sucks."

"Mine's worse." Maya shrugged. "We can figure it out together."

The sun was finally going down, painting everything gold and pink and not embarrassing at all. Leo took his racket back.

"Tomorrow," he said. "I'm bringing extra spinach smoothie. Just so we're even."