Taking the Bull By The Padel

My summer was supposed to be about becoming someone else. Someone who didn't panic at parties. Someone who could talk to Jake without turning into a human glitch.

Instead, I was hiding behind a tree at the Hendersons' country club, watching a **padel** match like it was the Olympics. Padel—this tennis-squash hybrid that everyone rich played—and I'd never even held a racquet.

"You coming in or what?" Jake appeared behind me, somehow making standing there look effortless. His hair was wet from **swimming** earlier, dark curls dripping onto his shirt collar. He smelled like chlorine and something expensive.

"I don't... I don't really do sports," I managed.

"That's not what I heard." He nodded toward the court. "Your dad mentioned you used to play tennis. Before, you know."

Before my parents split. Before I stopped caring about things I couldn't control.

"That was a million years ago."

"So? Muscle memory, right." Jake grabbed my wrist. "Come on. I'll teach you."

We were halfway to the court when my **dog**—my chaotic, ADHD golden retriever who'd escaped through the back gate—came barreling across the pristine lawn like a furry tornado, heading straight for the Hendersons' prize-winning flower bed.

"BARNABY!" I took off after him, my dignity officially gone. Jake chased after me, laughing, and suddenly it was the three of us—me, the cute boy, and my very bad dog—tearing through the immaculate grounds while elderly club members gasped.

We caught him just before he could annihilate a rosebush. I was bent over, breathless, waiting for judgment.

"That," Jake said, between gasps, "was literally the most chaotic thing I've ever seen."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I should go."

"Are you kidding?" He stood up straight, still grinning. "That was the most fun I've had all summer. Also, taking the **bull** by the horns with your dog? Kind of badass."

"I literally tackled a flower bed to save it."

"Exactly." He held out a hand to pull me up. "So, padel? You still in?"

And somehow, standing there with grass stains on my knees and my dog jumping around us like we'd just won the lottery, I realized I didn't want to be someone else anymore. I just wanted to be exactly who I was—messy, chaotic, and surprisingly okay with it.