The Backhand Agreement

Maya stood at the edge of the padel court, gripping her racquet like it might somehow protect her from the absolute cringe fest unfolding before her eyes.Across the net, Chloe—her former best friend turned stranger after that whole situation with Tyler—was serving with her new squad watching. The vibe was awkward enough to make anyone want to yeet themselves into orbit.

"Since when do you play?" Chloe called out, all casual, like they hadn't spent every summer since seventh grade at each other's houses.

"Since my mom signed me up for lessons," Maya shot back, glad her voice didn't shake. "Joining a club. Whatever."

Her serve went straight into the net. Absolutely toasted.

That's when the cat appeared.

It was this scraggly orange thing that lived behind the rec center, darting between players' legs with zero respect for the game. But then it did something weird—it trotted right to the baseline where Maya was standing, dropped a tennis ball at her feet, and looked up with these yellow eyes like, your move, girl.

Chloe's crew burst out laughing. "Looks like even the neighborhood cats know you need help with your serve, Maya!"

But then—miracle of miracles—Chloe didn't laugh. Instead, she walked over to the net.

"That's the same cat from behind your old house," she said, voice soft. "Remember? We fed it tuna that one summer it got stuck in the storm drain."

Maya's heart did this little flip thing. "You remember that?"

"Duh." Chloe leaned against the net post. "We spent three hours in the rain with a can of tuna and a flashlight. Not exactly core memory material I'm gonna forget."

The orange cat head-butted Maya's ankle, then wandered over to Chloe's side of the court and curled up in the sun.

"Wanna hit?" Chloe asked suddenly.

"Like... together?"

"Unless you'd rather play against yourself and lose."

So they played. Nothing profound, no dramatic confrontation montage. Just two girls who used to know everything about each other, now relearning through serves that mostly went in and backhands that connected more often than not. The cat stayed on the sidelines, occasionally judging their form.

Afterward, sitting on the bench sharing Chloe's extra water bottle, Chloe said, "You know, Tyler was talking trash about you at lunch today. I told him to shut it."

"Why?"

Chloe shrugged, all fake-casual. "Maybe I realized he ain't it. Maybe I miss my actual friend."

The orange cat wandered over and sat between them like it had planned everything.

"Same time next week?" Maya asked.

Chloe grinned. "Bet. But first, you need serious work on that backhand."