Swallowing Confidence

The sun glared off the pool like my mom's disappointed stare when I got a B+ in Physics. I stood at the edge of Lucas's pool party, clutching my phone like a lifeline, while half the sophomore class splashed around like they'd invented fun.

"Yo Marcus!" Lucas yelled from the padel court. "We need a fourth! You down?"

My stomach dropped. I'd been waiting for this invite all year, but now that it was here, I felt like I'd swallowed a rock. Padel was THE sport this year—ever since Lucas's family got that fancy court installed, everyone acted like knowing how to play was some essential life skill. Which I definitely didn't have.

"Yeah, sure," I called back, my voice cracking slightly. Smooth.

I grabbed my backpack from the lounge chair and fished out the racket I'd borrowed from my cousin. As I walked toward the court, Jordan—Lucas's terrifyingly cool best friend— smirked at me.

"Don't worry, rookie," she said, tossing her paddle casually. "We'll go easy on you. Unless you're secretly good?"

I laughed, but it came out weirdly high-pitched. "Definitely not secretly anything."

The game was a disaster. I missed every ball, tripped over my own feet twice, and accidentally served the ball directly into Lucas's expensive water bottle. But then something happened—Jordan started cracking up at my terrible form, and then Lucas joined in, and suddenly we were all dying of laughter. The knot in my chest loosened.

"Bro, that was literally the worst serve ever," Lucas said, wiping tears from his eyes. "But honestly? Epic fail energy."

After the game, we collapsed onto the grass. Jordan tossed me a bottle. "Here. You look like you need this more than I do."

I caught it—some fancy vitamin water. "Thanks."

"Vitamin C plus electrolytes," she said. "My mom swears it's basically emotional support in a bottle." She bumped my shoulder. "You're cool, Marcus. Most people would've tried way too hard to impress us. You just... owned the suckage."

I took a sip. The water was cold and citrus-sharp. For the first time all afternoon, I didn't feel like I was drowning.

"Yeah," I said, grinning. "I'm basically a professional at sucking."

"We should start a club," Lucas said. "The Padel Rejects. Membership requirement: zero coordination, maximum vibes."

"I'm in," Jordan said.

"Me too," I said, and I meant it. The water in my hand didn't feel so heavy anymore. Some days, that was enough.