Summer Set Points

Maya's palms were sweating. Again. She gripped her **padel** racket tighter, staring across the net at Harper – the girl who'd somehow made it her life's mission to make Maya's existence miserable since seventh grade.

"You ready to get wrecked, Maya?" Harper called out, flipping her perfect ponytail.

Maya's stomach did that awful twisting thing. She was **running** on two hours of sleep and three separate overthinking sessions about whether Ethan from chem class had actually looked at her during yesterday's lecture or if she'd just imagined it because she was desperate for it to be true.

"Whatever," Maya managed, proud her voice didn't crack.

The game was brutal. Harper's backhand was lethal, and Maya was missing shots she could usually make in her sleep. The worst part? Ethan was sitting by the **pool**, watching with his friends. Every time Maya messed up, she could practically feel Harper's smugness radiating across the court.

"Score's 40-30," Harper announced way too loudly. "Game point."

Maya's racket felt slippery in her hand. She couldn't breathe. Why did everything feel so high-stakes all the time? Like if she lost this game, she'd somehow prove everyone right about her being awkward and uncoordinated and fundamentally

"Maya!" someone yelled.

She missed the ball completely. It bounced sadly near her feet.

But then she looked up, and Ethan was standing there, pool water dripping from his hair, holding this massive inflated **bull** – like, an actual bull head from some party decoration nobody had thrown away yet.

"I was **running** to get your attention," he said, slightly out of breath. "But Harper's game face is terrifying."

Harper rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful. "Oh my god, Ethan."

"Anyway," Ethan continued, totally ignoring her, "I was gonna ask if you wanted to come to this party later? My friend's parents are out of town and –"

"Ew," Harper interrupted. "Nobody cares."

Maya looked between them, something shifting in her chest. Harper's opinion suddenly felt... smaller. Less important.

"Yeah," Maya said, surprised at how steady her voice came out. "I'd love to."

As they walked away, Maya could hear Harper sputtering behind them. She glanced down at her racket, then over at Ethan – who was still carrying that ridiculous bull head like it was completely normal.

"So," he said, grinning. "How bad were you gonna let Harper win?"

Maya laughed, really laughed, for what felt like the first time all summer. "You have no idea."