Summer Storm at the Club
The pool deck at Oakridge Country Club was my entire summer existence. Me, a teenager in neon red shorts and a whistle that felt more like a choke collar, watching over kids whose parents made more in an hour than my dad made in a week. I'd started dating Emma, whose family actually belonged here, and suddenly I was in way over my head.
"You coming to padel later?" Jake asked, dripping pool water onto the concrete. He was one of those guys who made everything look effortless - tennis, socializing, being rich.
"Maybe," I said, even though I'd never held a padel racket in my life. Emma's dad had invited me to play, like some kind of weird test.
The sky turned that sickly yellow-green color. "Everyone out, pool's closing," I announced, trying to sound authoritative instead of panicked.
Emma waited for me by the gate, her wet hair dark against her shoulders. "My parents are going to be at the club dinner. Want to come over?"
The walk to her house took us past the padel courts, empty in the gathering dark. Then it hit - lightning forked across the sky like crackled glass, followed instantly by thunder that made the ground shake. We ducked under the clubhouse overhang, soaked to the bone and shaking.
"I can't afford the membership," I blurted out. "I've never played padel. I don't belong here."
Emma's face softened in the dim light. "You think I don't know that? I've seen you watch the pool clock like you're counting down to freedom every single day."
"Then why-"
"Because you're the only person here who doesn't treat me like I'm some stuck-up rich girl. Because you make fun of my terrible backhand. Because you're real."
Another lightning flash illuminated everything - her honest eyes, my ridiculous neon shorts, the empty padel courts behind us. I had to bear it, suddenly - that she actually liked me, not whatever version of myself I thought I needed to be.
"Teach me to play," I said. "For real this time."
She grinned as the rain kept falling around us. "Deal. But you're gonna need better shorts."