Stakeouts & serves

Maya's cat, a dramatic calico named Drama Queen, watched with judgment as Maya once again scrolled through Leo's Instagram stories. The padel court. Again. Third time this week. The same shiny new friends, the same matching azure jerseys. They looked like a sports drink commercial come to life.

"He's being replaced," Maya muttered, grabbing the gummy vitamins from her desk. "By people who probably don't even know his middle name."

Drama Queen meowed and batted at a vitamin bottle.

Maya had become a reluctant spy. Checking locations. Noting who liked what posts. It was pathetic, honestly, but something felt off. Leo had dropped everything for padel overnight — no more Saturday video game marathons, no more late-night Discord calls about anything and everything. Just texts about "practice" and "the crew" and "you should come sometime."

"Right," Maya told the cat. "Because I'd totally fit in with the Azure Squad."

Drama Queen yawned, unimpressed.

The vitamins were supposed to help Maya focus. Instead, they gave her fifteen minutes of hyper-aware staring at walls. She popped two anyway before grabbing her backpack. Time for a stakeout.

The community center padel courts were packed. Maya spotted Leo immediately — laughing at something, head thrown back, easy in a way he hadn't been around her in months. Her chest felt weirdly tight.

"Hey, Maya!"

She jumped. Leo was jogging over, sweat-dampened and actually smiling. "You came!"

"Just... passing through."

"Bull." He handed her a racket. "Come play. We need a fourth."

"I don't play."

"Neither did I, like, three weeks ago." He grinned. "That's the point. Trying new stuff. Being bad at things together. That's what friends do."

Something in Maya's chest loosened. "You thought I'd come alone?"

"I hoped. I've been messaging you."

"To say come watch?"

"To say come PLAY, Maya." His expression softened. "I thought you weren't interested. I didn't want to keep pushing."

"Oh." The vitamins kicked in — her brain felt suddenly sharp, clear. "I thought... you'd moved on. To better friends."

"No." Leo laughed. "But these guys are pretty cool. You'd like them. And they're terrible at serving, so you'd fit right in."

Drama Queen would approve of this turn of events. Probably.

"Fine," Maya said, taking the racket. "But I'm not wearing that matching jersey."

"Deal. Now come on — my partner's vitamin gummy stash is at stake, and I am not losing to the jerks from court three."

Maya followed him onto the court. The glass walls reflected a dozen versions of herself — nervous, ready, and finally included. Being a spy was exhausting anyway. Much better to be a player.