The Frienemy Algorithm

Alex's iPhone vibrated against the lounge chair, third time in five minutes. They were officially hiding something.

"You gonna get that?" Jordan asked from the adjacent chaise, sunglasses pushed up like a headband.

"Nah." Alex shoved the phone deeper under their towel. "Probably just my mom."

Lie. Their mom didn't text during her Pilates class. This was something else.

They'd been at the community pool for two hours, and the friend group chat had been blowing up with vague, suspicious messages. "Anyone at the courts?" "Coach said 4." "Bring extra racquets." Padel. They were talking about padel without Alex.

The betrayal stung worse than the chlorine-heavy water Alex had emerged from thirty minutes earlier.

"You good?" Jordan sat up, sunscreen slick on their shoulders. "You've been weird all day."

"I'm fine." Alex forced a smile that felt fake. "Just tired from swimming laps."

Jordan studied them for a beat too long. "Okay. Well, I'm gonna hit the snack bar. You want anything?"

"Nah."

As soon as Jordan walked away, Alex snatched their iPhone from under the towel. Six new notifications. All the same group chat, minus Alex.

The worst part? They'd been the one to teach everyone padel last summer. Now the crew was playing without them, posting stories Alex had to spy on through alternate accounts because they'd been blocked—no, muted—from the main chat.

What had they done? Last weekend's party had been lowkey, but maybe Alex had said something wrong? Maybe their joke about Maya's crush hadn't landed? Maybe they'd been too much, too loud, too Alex?

The phone lit up again. A notification from someone unexpected.

*Jordan: hey where are you actually?*

Alex stared at the message, confusion mixing with the pit in their stomach. *At the pool. Why?*

*Jordan: we're doing the tournament thing you talked about. The one you organized. We're waiting on you.*

Alex blinked.

*Jordan: your phone's been off. You coming?*

They scrolled up. Messages from two hours ago: *Court 4! Bring your A game!*, *Alex's epic tournament begins NOW*, *Where's our commissioner?*

The notifications Alex had been ignoring? Birthday reminders from three different apps. The group chat had been trying to reach them since before they'd even arrived at the pool.

They grabbed their towel, phone clutched in their hand like a lifeline, and sprinted toward the padel courts, chlorine-slick skin heating under the sun. The real spy had been their own anxiety all along.

Jordan waved from court four, grinning. "There they are! Tournament starts in five!"

Alex laughed, breathless. "I'm coming."

Some friends really do wait.