Summer of Second Chances

Leo's summer was supposed to be legendary. Instead, he was stuck at his grandma's house with spotty Wi-Fi that kept dying whenever someone walked past the router wrong. The coaxial **cable** snaked through the hallway like a lazy snake, threatening to disconnect him from civilization at any moment.

His cousin Sofia had decided he needed a glow-up, which apparently meant choking down these neon-orange **vitamin** gummies that tasted like artificial sunshine and regret. "Trust me, Leo," she'd said, scrolling through her phone. "You'll thank me when you're ripped by September."

But the real problem was Lucas—the boy who'd moved to the private school across town and come back acting like he owned the place. Lucas was now obsessed with **padel**, that tennis-squash hybrid that everyone was suddenly playing at the country club his family had just joined. Even Chloe, the girl Leo had been lowkey crushing on since seventh grade, was learning to play.

"You should come," Chloe had told him at the pool party, her hair still wet from **swimming** laps. "Lucas says beginners are welcome."

Lucas. Of course.

The party itself had been a disaster. Leo had worn his brother's shirt (too tight) and nearly choked on a hot dog while trying to look casual. Then Lucas had started making fun of Leo's old phone, and Leo had just stood there, taking it, feeling like the biggest loser ever.

That night, Leo lay in bed watching a padel tutorial on his phone, the screen glitching as the **cable** connection wavered. He thought about what his dad always said: sometimes you have to take the **bull** by the horns. Not that Leo had ever actually met a bull, but the point stood.

The next morning, he showed up at the padel courts. Chloe was there, already warming up. "You came!" she said, surprised.

"Yeah," Leo said, his heart hammering. "Why not?"

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Don't say I didn't warn you, Chloe. This should be entertaining."

But Leo had been watching tutorials all week. He'd practiced his serve against the garage wall until his neighbor yelled at him. And somewhere between those orange **vitamin** gummies and the way Chloe looked at him like maybe—just maybe—he wasn't completely hopeless, Leo found his rhythm.

He didn't win. But he didn't embarrass himself either. And when Chloe high-fived him afterward, her hand lingering on his for just a second longer than necessary, Leo figured maybe this summer wasn't going to be so bad after all.

"Same time next week?" she asked.

Leo grinned. "Bet."