Sweaty Palms Summer

The chlorine hung heavy in the humid air, mingling with coconut sunscreen and the rhythmic thwack of **padel** balls against the glass walls. Maya smoothed her oversized t-shirt for the third time, suddenly regretting letting Chloe drag her to the country club's end-of-summer blowout.

"You good?" Chloe asked, already halfway toward the **pool**.

"Yeah. Just." Maya wiped her **palm**s against her shorts. "Lots of people."

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Probably her mom checking in, or worse—no one at all. That was the thing about freshman year: you were either everyone's everything or nobody's nothing, and Maya was still figuring out which team she played for.

The padel courts were packed with juniors she'd seen in hallways but never actually spoken to. There was Lucas from AP Bio, his racket swing effortless, laughing at somethingperfect-haired Jessica said. They moved in that comfortable, unspoken way that said we belong here.

Maya definitely didn't belong here.

"Maya!" Chloe waved from the pool's edge, already surrounded by a cluster of sophomore girls. "Cannonball contest! You judging?"

She was saved from answering by Lucas, who'd materialized beside her with two sodas. "Hey. You're in my English lit, right?"

"Uh, yeah. Maya."

"Lucas." He offered the soda. His knuckles grazed her **palm**, sending an electric jolt up her arm that had absolutely nothing to do with the summer heat. "We're doing Hamlet next year. I heard you're into writing?"

How did he know that?

"I—yeah. kinda."

"Cool." He nodded toward the padel court, where his friends were waving him over. "You play?"

"Never even held a racket."

"Your loss." He grinned, and something shifted—just a little—in the space between them. "Maybe I'll teach you sometime. If you want."

"Yeah," Maya said, and actually meant it. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Chloe chose that moment to execute a massive cannonball, spraying water over everyone within ten feet. The crowd erupted. Lucas laughed, and Maya found herself laughing too, suddenly aware that she wasn't standing on the outside looking in anymore.

Her phone buzzed again, but she ignored it. Some moments were better undocumented.