Summer Courts & Bad Hair Days

Maya dragged herself through the front door, feeling like her life was basically over. The humidity had turned her normally sleek curls into a frizz explosion that could rival any cat in a room full of rocking chairs. She caught her reflection in the hallway mirror – yep, still looking like she'd stuck her finger in an electrical socket.

"You're still coming to the courts, right?" her brother called from the living room.

Maya groaned. The neighborhood padel tournament. She'd been practicing with Leo for weeks, and her stomach did that stupid fluttery thing every time she thought about him. But now? With this hair situation? Absolutely not.

"Think I'm gonna skip," she muttered.

"Seriously?" Her brother appeared in the doorway, grinning. "Leo's gonna be there. Don't you want to—"

"Shut up."

Her phone buzzed. A text from Leo: you coming?

Maya stared at her screen. She could stay home and hide under her blanket, or she could go and risk Leo seeing her looking like a poodle that lost a fight with a leaf blower. But she also remembered what her mom always said when things felt impossible: sometimes you just have to bear it.

Whatever. This was stupid.

She showed up at the courts ten minutes later, hood pulled up, praying nobody would notice her. Leo was already there, messing with his racket, looking unfairly good in his sleeveless.

"There she is," he called, spotting her. "You ready?"

Maya hesitated, then yanked down her hood. Let him see the frizz. Let him see everything.

Leo didn't even flinch. "Nice." He pointed at her head. "Wild."

She waited for the joke. It didn't come.

"Thanks," she said slowly. "It's called 'I gave up on humidity.'"

"Works for you." He tossed her a ball. "Let's crush these fools."

They did crush them. And somewhere between the second game and the post-tournament ice cream run, Maya realized nobody was looking at her hair. They were looking at her killer backhand. They were looking at how she and Leo moved together like they'd been partners forever.

Later, sitting on the curb with melting chocolate dripping everywhere, Leo nudged her shoulder. "Same time next week?"

Maya's phone camera showed a girl with wild, unmanageable curls, sweat streaking her face, chocolate on her chin. She looked ridiculous.

She looked like herself.

"Bet," she said, and for the first time all summer, she actually meant it.