Sunday Night Padel

Maya's phone screen glowed in the darkness of her bedroom at 11:47 PM, Instagram reels flickering past like junk food for her brain. She was basically a **zombie** at this point—running on three hours of sleep and an alarming amount of vanilla latte from the bodega downstairs. Her thumb kept scrolling, mechanical and desperate, until the battery icon flashed red at 3%.

"No, no, NO," she groaned, patting her nightstand like a maniac. The **cable** was nowhere. Of course. Because the universe had personally decided tonight was the night she'd be cut off from civilization.

Her phone died mid-reel, plunging her room into actual darkness. Maya flopped onto her back, staring at the ceiling fan. Tomorrow was the **padel** tournament that her friend Sofia had begged her to join. "It'll be SO fun," Sofia had promised. "The perfect way to meet people before sophomore year." Maya had reluctantly agreed, because FOMO was her toxic trait and saying no to Sofia was basically impossible.

Now she lay there spiraling. What if she sucked? What if she tripped? What if everyone could tell she'd only played tennis that one summer at sleepaway camp and quit because she "didn't vibe with the hierarchy"?

She reached for her old **iPhone** 11—the backup phone she kept for emergencies—and powered it on. The screen lit up with a photo of her and her ex-best-friend Riley at the beach, tanned and happy, before everything got weird last semester. Maya's stomach twisted. Some memories were like tiny knives.

Sofia's text came through at 12:03 AM: *u still up? nervous AF*

Maya typed back: *literally contemplating running away to canada. also my phone died.*

*hahaha we're gonna be fine. i'll pick u up at 9. wear the blue shorts—u look 🔥 in them*

Maya smiled at her screen in the dark. Maybe tomorrow wouldn't be a total disaster. Or maybe it would be, and at least she'd have a story. She set the backup phone on her nightstand, closed her eyes, and for the first time all night, her brain finally stopped spinning.

"Whatever," she whispered to her ceiling. "I'll just be the awkward padel girl. It's a vibe."