The Art of Faking It

Mateo regretted everything about his situation. Especially the spinach. Specifically, the massive green chunk wedged between his front teeth that he'd only discovered AFTER spending twenty minutes talking to Skylar—the coolest girl at Oak Creek Country Club's summer junior program.

"You've got a little..." she'd said, gesturing vaguely at her own perfect smile.

Now he sat alone on the bench, watching everyone else look completely at home in their pastel polo shirts and expensive padel gear. Meanwhile, Mateo was wearing his older brother's hand-me-downs that were definitely not name brand, wondering if his mom's insistence on packing him healthy snacks would ever stop ruining his life.

The papaya she'd packed sat in his lunchbox, judging him. Who even ate papaya at a country club? Everyone else was ordering club sandwiches and fries from the restaurant.

"Hey, Spinach Boy," someone said.

Mateo looked up. It was Chloe, Skylar's friend and basically the queen bee of the junior program. She was smirking, but not in a mean way. Weirdly.

"That's not my name," he muttered.

"Chill, I'm Chloe. And honestly? That spinach situation was legendary. My brother once had guacamole in his braces for an entire school picture day." She dropped onto the bench next to him. "You're new, right?"

"Yeah. My mom thought this would be 'good for my social development.'" He made air quotes. "She thinks country clubs are still like, a thing."

Chloe laughed. "Okay, first of all, you're taking the bull by the horns just showing up here. This place is a maze of unwritten rules and weird traditions." She pointed across the padel courts. "See that guy? The one who looks like he's never cracked a smile in his life? That's Tyler. He's been trying to ask Skylar out all summer. Won't make a move."

"Why not?"

"Terrified. And here you are, walking around with spinach in your teeth like you own the place." Chloe studied him. "You've got more confidence than half the guys here. They're all trying way too hard. You're just... existing. It's refreshing."

Mateo blinked. "That's literally the lowest bar possible."

"Exactly." Chloe's eyes twinkled. "You know what Skylar told me? She said you were funny. Because instead of dying of embarrassment about the spinach, you just rolled with it. She said, and I quote, 'He's got rizz.'"

"She did NOT say that."

"Okay, maybe I'm paraphrasing. But she noticed you." Chloe stood up. "Look, there's a mixer tonight by the pool. No pressure, but..." She grinned. "Maybe bring something other than papaya this time."

Mateo watched her walk away, processing this information. Skylar had noticed him. Not because he was the smoothest guy there, but because he'd been hilariously, publicly unsmooth.

His phone buzzed. A text from his mom: *How's it going, mijo? Make any friends?*

Mateo typed back: *Actually, yeah. Think I'm figuring it out.*

He tossed the papaya in the trash and headed toward the padel courts. Maybe he'd even talk to Skylar again. Spinach-free this time.