Summer Crash Course

Marcus stood by the **pool** edge, clutching his **iPhone** like a lifeline. The country club pool party glittered before him—bikinis, board shorts, and way too much confidence for a Saturday afternoon. His feed was a desert. No notifications. Not even a like from his mom.

"Dude, you coming?" Tyler yelled from the padel court. "We need a fourth!"

Padel. Marcus had googled it last night: tennis meets squash, played in an enclosed court. He'd never picked up a racket in his life. But Sophie was watching from her lounge chair, and Sophie was the reason he'd worn his lucky **hat**—a vintage Chicago Bulls cap he'd spent twenty bucks on at a thrift store, hoping it said "cool but not trying too hard."

"Yeah," Marcus called back. "Just—finishing something."

Something being gathering the courage to walk across the pool deck without tripping over his own Vans.

"You want papaya?" Sophie's voice materialized beside him. She held out a slice. "It's actually pretty good."

Marcus stared at the orange fruit. Was this a test? He'd never eaten papaya in his sixteen years. It looked like something that would end up on TikTok for all the wrong reasons.

"Sure," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

She placed it in his hand. Her fingers brushed his palm—electric, confusing, terrifying.

"So," she said, leaning against the fence. "You play padel?"

"Oh yeah. All the time," Marcus lied smoothly. "Back in Chicago."

"Chicago?" Her eyebrows shot up. "I didn't know you moved here."

"Freshman year," he ad-libbed. "When my dad got the new job."

The papaya sat in his hand like a grenade. He took a bite. Sweet, musky, completely foreign.

"It's... different," he managed.

Sophie laughed. "That's one way to put it."

"Marcus!" Tyler's voice cut through. "We're starting NOW."

He looked at Sophie. "I should—"

"Go," she said. "Kick their ass, Chicago."

Marcus adjusted his hat. The papaya aftertaste lingered—strange, unexpected, not terrible. He walked toward the court, phone buzzing in his pocket. Probably a text from his mom asking if he was wearing sunscreen.

Some things you couldn't fake. But some things? You figured out as you went.