The Court of First Attempts

The vitamin C gummies rattled in my pocket—Mom's attempt at boosting my immune system before my first day at the "padel clinic." Which was really just code for "please make friends since we moved to this town two weeks ago and you haven't spoken to anyone except your dog."

I stood at the edge of the court, clutching a borrowed racquet like it might bite me. The social pyramid at Lincoln High had already established itself without me, and I was somewhere in the basement, hanging out with the dust bunnies.

"Yo, you gonna stand there all day or actually play?"

I looked up. A girl with electric blue streaks in her hair stood at the net, bouncing a ball on her racquet. Lena. She sat behind me in pre-calc and somehow made graphing functions look like a personality trait.

"I'm, uh, mentally preparing," I said.

"For what? The Padel Olympics?" She grinned. "Come on. I won't tell anyone you missed that ball by three feet."

My face burned. I hadn't even started playing yet, and she'd already read my entire personality.

We played. I sucked. But then the sky opened up—actual lightning cracked across the clouds like the universe was splitting apart. The coach blew the whistle, and everyone scrambled for cover under the small pavilion.

Lena ended up squeezed next to me, both of us watching the storm.

"So," she said, as thunder rattled the metal roof. "You're new, right?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"You didn't know Coach Dave takes himself way too seriously." She bumped my shoulder with hers. "Also, nobody wears shorts that long anymore."

I looked down at my knee-length basketball shorts. "They're comfortable."

"They're tragic." She smiled. "I like that about you."

The storm cleared. We walked back out. My dog Buster would be waiting at home, probably judging me for social awkwardness through pure dog telepathy. But for the first time since moving, the pyramid didn't feel so steep.

"Same time tomorrow?" Lena asked.

"Only if I get to pick the playlist," I said.

"Deal. But fair warning—my taste is objectively superior."

I popped a vitamin gummy into my mouth. Vitamin C couldn't fix everything, but apparently, showing up and being tragically uncool could.

I was gonna be okay.