The Day I Didn't Die (Literally)

The fluorescent gym lights buzzed above me like an angry hornet's nest. I stood there, racket in hand, feeling like absolute death. Three hours of sleep. Two energy drinks. One very questionable decision to try out for the varsity **padel** team.

"You ready, new girl?" Tyler flashed that smile that made half the sophomore class forget their own names. The other half remembered it too well, usually accompanied by eye rolls.

I nodded, already regretting everything. My brain was functioning on pure **zombie** mode at this point—existent but barely, shuffling through life on instinct and caffeine.

The ball came flying at me. I swung. Missed. My racket hit the fence with a pathetic clatter.

"Nice form," someone snickered from the bleachers. Great. An audience.

I stumbled to the bench, grabbing my **water** bottle. My hands shook so bad I nearly dropped it. Stay cool, I told myself. You're mysterious and athletic and totally not having a panic attack.

Then I caught my reflection in the gym windows. A massive, dark green wedge of **spinach** stuck squarely between my front teeth. From lunch. Four hours ago.

Four. Hours. Ago.

I'd walked through the entire school, talked to three teachers, and now stood in front of the cutest junior at Franklin High, looking like I'd just finished grazing in a field.

"You got a little—" Tyler started.

"I know," I whispered, dying inside. "I'm cultivating a farm. It's very sustainable."

He blinked. Then laughed. Actually laughed.

"Well," he said, tossing me a ball. "At least you're funny. Most people just cry their first week."

I wiped the spinach away, took a breath, and stepped back onto the court. Maybe I'd survive high school after all.