Summer Serve

Maya pulled her bucket hat lower, practically disappearing inside it. The oversized brim had become her armor—first day of padel camp, first mistake.

"You're gonna love it," her mom had said that morning, pressing those neon orange gummy vitamins into Maya's palm. "Make friends!"

Yeah, right. Maya swallowed the vitamins, grateful for at least five minutes of phone time before camp. Her iPhone buzzed—three notifications. She'd memorized the feeling: haptic patterns against her thigh like a secret language.

Now, standing court-side while other teens volleyed back and forth, Maya felt like she'd glitched into the wrong reality. Padel wasn't even a real sport—someone had just smashed tennis and squash together and called it a day.

Then came the bark.

Her aunt's golden retriever, Buster, had escaped his leash again. The dog bolted onto the court, chaos in motion, sending balls flying everywhere. Someone's paddle clattered against the fence.

Maya's instinct kicked in before her brain caught up. She dropped her phone on the bench and sprinted, forgetting to be self-conscious for the first time all summer. "Buster! Here!"

The dog froze. Then bounded toward her like she was his entire world.

"Woah." A guy in a backwards cap stood there, paddle dangling. "That was... actually kind of epic?"

Maya looked up. Her hat had fallen off. Her hair was everywhere. Buster was practically sitting on her feet.

"I'm Alex," he said, grinning. "And that's the most exciting thing that's happened at padel camp since... ever."

"Maya." She realized she was smiling. Really smiling, not the polite half-smile she gave teachers.

He gestured to her fallen hat. "You gonna need that back?"

"Maybe not," she said.

Behind them, her iPhone lit up with incoming messages. She didn't even look.