Storm Over The Padel Court

The summer heatwave had everyone at Camp Oakhurst acting weird — even me. I stood by the fence watching the championship match, my heart doing that annoying flutter thing whenever **fox**-red hair caught the sunlight. Jordan, naturally, owned the court.

The padel tournament was basically all anyone talked about. Jordan and their crew dominated everything, moving like they owned the place. Meanwhile, I'd somehow gotten paired with Tyler, whose coordination problems were legendary.

"You've got this," I whispered, trying to sound confident. Tyler's **goldfish** attention span had already wandered twice during warm-ups.

Then Coach Martinez announced the final match would happen during the thunderstorm rolling in. Because apparently danger = excitement or whatever.

The sky turned that bruised purple color. A crack of **lightning** split the clouds so close I could taste ozone. Jordan's team didn't even flinch, barely even looked up.

"They're acting like total **bull**ies about this," I muttered. Tyler nodded, actually focused for once.

First point: Jordan smashed the ball so hard it practically exploded off our racket. Second point: they toyed with us, passing back and forth like they were bored. The social hierarchy on display, basically.

"Whatever happens," I said, "we're not letting them see us sweat."

Third point: Another lightning flash, closer this time. Coach blew the whistle — game postponed until morning.

The relief was epic. Walking back to the cabins in the drizzle, Tyler grinned. "So... we didn't completely embarrass ourselves?"

"Dude," I said, bumping their shoulder, "we survived. That's basically winning."

Jordan passed us, umbrella-less, hair plastered to their face. For once they looked sorta human. Our eyes caught for like two seconds and they nodded. Not mocking, just... acknowledging.

Maybe tomorrow's match would be different. Maybe not. But suddenly the whole camp hierarchy thing felt less set in stone. Storms do that — shake everything up, show you what's actually solid and what's just for show.

"Hey," Tyler said, "wanna practice before breakfast?"

"Obviously." I smiled. "We've got a reputation to not completely tank."