Sweaty Palms Sunday

Leo's hands wouldn't stop sweating. He wiped them on his shorts for the third time, leaving dark streaks on the fabric.

"You good, bro?" Maya asked, bouncing on her toes. She held her padel racquet like she'd been born with it in her hand.

"Yeah. Just... got this."

He didn't got this. Leo had never played padel in his life, but when his new friend Tyler invited the squad to his dad's country club for Sunday matches, Leo had said yes before his brain could process how much he didn't belong here. Everyone else seemed like they'd been swinging racquets since preschool. Meanwhile, Leo still couldn't figure out which end was which.

The first ball came at him fast. He swung—and whiffed. The ball bounced off his shoulder.

"My bad, my bad," Tyler called from across the court, but Leo caught the smirk. The whatever-dude smirk that said, this is why you don't invite people from the neighborhood to the club.

Leo's palm felt like it was melting. He needed an escape.

"Bathroom break," he mumbled, ducking under the net.

He ended up at the edge of the property, where a massive palm tree cast shadows over a perfectly manicured lawn. That's where he saw the dog—a golden retriever mix, scratching at something near the fence.

Leo approached cautiously. The dog looked up, tail wagging like a metronome.

"Hey buddy," Leo whispered. "You hiding too?"

The dog nudged his hand, and for the first time all day, Leo's palms stopped sweating. He sat there, petting the dog, wondering why he was trying so hard to fit into a world that wasn't his.

"There you are!" Maya's voice cut through. She jogged over, flopping down beside him. "Tyler's being a dick. Nobody liked that anyway."

"I'm not good at this stuff," Leo admitted. "Any of it."

Maya laughed. "Bro, you're overthinking it. Friend's about vibes, not padel."

The dog licked Leo's face. He laughed, actually laughed, and for the first time, he felt like maybe—just maybe—he didn't have to perform to belong.

"Wanna bail?" Maya asked. "There's this taco truck..."

Leo stood up, wiped his hands on his shorts one last time, and smiled.

"Yeah. Let's dip."

The dog barked as they walked away, and Leo swore it was approving their exit strategy.