The Art of Being Seen

Alex's life had become a series of carefully curated performances. First, the spinach smoothies every morning because TikTok said they'd fix his skin. Then the padel lessons because Jordan, the one with the smile that made his chest weird, played every Saturday at the club. Now this—crouching behind the equipment shed, spy-style, watching Jordan practice their serve.

"Smoothie at 7 AM, padel at noon, stalking by 3 PM," Alex muttered, adjusting his hoodie. "Nailed the teenage experience."

The spinach thing had started as a joke, but now the green smoothie was part of his brand. Even if it tasted like wet grass mixed with disappointment. At least the padel part was real—that sweet spot between tennis and squash that made him feel athletic for the first time in his life.

Jordan missed a shot, and the ball rolled toward the shed. Alex froze. Their eyes met through the wooden slats.

"Alex?" Jordan's voice carried that I-know-you're-there tone. "Are you spying on me?"

"No!" Alex scrambled up, nearly tripping over his own feet. "I was just... admiring your technique. From a distance. Strategically."

Jordan laughed, and something in Alex's chest did that annoying fluttery thing again. "My technique sucks. That's why I'm here alone."

"You're way better than me," Alex said, then immediately wanted to dissolve into the earth.

"Prove it," Jordan challenged, tossing him a racquet. "Monday morning. Same court. And bring me one of those spinach smoothies I've heard you're obsessed with."

"Wait, you know about the smoothies?"

"Everyone knows, Alex." Jordan's grin was wicked. "You post about it every single day."

Later that night, Alex stared at his phone, hovering over the smoothie post he'd drafted. Then he deleted it. Some things didn't need an audience. Some things were just for him—the game, the green stuff, the maybe-friend who'd noticed him anyway.