Sweaty Palms & Secret Spies

The padel court was where everything happened at Westwood High — if you weren't playing, you were watching, and if you were watching, you were definitely watching someone specific.

For me, that someone was Jamie.

I'd perfected the art of the casual lean against the chain-link fence, backward cap pulled low (my hat — a generic blue one that said "LIFE IS GOOD" in peeling letters, which it objectively wasn't). Every day at lunch, I'd stand there like a total weirdo, basically spy-ing on Jamie's backhand. My palms would sweat through my pockets every time she laughed at something someone said.

Pathetic? Maybe. But this was tenth grade. We were all walking cringe compilations.

"You know she has a girlfriend, right?" Maya said from beside me one Tuesday, chewing on a straw. "Like, a real one. Not an imaginary one in some delusional loser's head."

"I'm not —" I started, but the bell cut me off.

That Friday, everything changed. I was at the padel courts again (obviously) when Jamie's dog — this chaotic golden retriever named Buster who'd escaped from her house like three times this month — came bolting across the playground. Jamie was running after him, laughing so hard she could barely breathe, and without thinking, I stepped into Buster's path and caught him by the collar.

"Nice hat," Jamie said, grinning as she caught up to us, slightly out of breath. She smelled like coconut shampoo. "You're the guy who's always watching us play, right?"

My palms were sweating so bad I thought I might just straight up dissolve right there. "Yeah. I, uh — I like padel. Just haven't found a partner."

"Well," she said, scratching behind Buster's ears. "Now you have two. Me and Buster here. We're a package deal."

She held out her hand, palm open, waiting.

I took it. "Deal."

My hat fell off. Whatever.

Maya was watching from the fence, shaking her head like she knew everything along. And maybe she did. But sometimes, even when you're being the most obvious version of yourself, somehow, it still works out.