Sunset Dreams at the Pool

The orange sun dipped behind the community center as Maya sat on the edge of the pool, her legs dangling in the cool water. Another summer evening wasted while everyone else was living their best lives.

"You coming to tryouts tomorrow?" Jackson asked, dropping his backpack on the concrete bench beside her. He'd made varsity baseball last spring and now walked around like he owned the place.

Maya shrugged, pretending to check her phone. "Maybe. Not really feeling it."

"You've been saying that for weeks." Jackson splashed water at her, grinning. "Since when did you become so scared of everything?"

Since her mom lost her job. Since her dad started working double shifts. Since trying out for teams meant explaining why she couldn't afford the gear or the fees. But Jackson wouldn't get that — his parents owned half the real estate in town.

"I'm not scared," Maya shot back, but her voice cracked. "I'm just... thinking about trying padel instead. It's trending."

"Padel?" Jackson laughed. "That's like tennis for people who can't commit."

The joke stung more than he knew. Maya had been thinking a lot about commitment lately — to sports, to friends, to anything beyond making it through each week without everything falling apart.

Her stomach growled, reminding her she'd skipped lunch again. She'd spent her last dollars onthat padel racket she'd impulse-bought online, convinced it would somehow fix everything.

"Whatever." Maya stood up, water dripping from her legs. "See you tomorrow. Maybe."

"Maya, wait." Jackson's expression softened. "If you need gear or whatever for baseball, I've got extra stuff. My uncle keeps sending me stuff I don't need."

The offer hung in the air between them. Maya's first instinct was to say no, to maintain some dignity, but her stomach betrayed her again, louder this time.

"I might need a glove," she admitted quietly.

"Done." Jackson's smile returned, but this time it reached his eyes. "And hey, after tryouts tomorrow, I'll teach you actual padel. My cousin plays, says it's nothing like tennis."

As Maya walked home under the orange streetlights, her phone buzzed. Her mom: GOOD LUCK TOMORROW. WE'LL FIGURE OUT THE REST.

Maybe tomorrow wouldn't be so terrible after all.