The Girl Behind the Palm Tree

I wasn't a *spy*. I was just... observant. Which is totally different.

Every day after school, I'd duck behind the massive *palm* tree near the rec center, watching Leo practice *padel* through the chain-link fence. He was perfect—his hair always looked artfully messy, even when he was sweating. I'd press my hand against the rough trunk of the palm tree, like somehow the tree would give me courage to actually talk to him.

Instead, I just watched. Through the gaps in the fence, I'd track his every move. The way he'd wipe his forehead with his wrist. How he'd laugh when he missed a shot. The *orange* Converse he always wore—bright against the blue court.

"You know, most people would just walk in."

I nearly jumped out of my skin. Leo was standing on the other side of the fence, grinning. I'd been so focused on watching through the fence that I hadn't heard him approach.

"I wasn't—" I started.

"You were totally spying," he said. But he was smiling. "It's cool. I play better with an audience."

My face burned. I wanted to disappear. "I was just walking past and—"

"You want to learn?" He asked it like it was the most normal question in the world.

"What?"

"*Padel*. I can teach you. Fridays at four. If you want."

He held his hand through the fence—palm up, like an invitation. I stared at it, my heart doing something weird and fluttery.

"I'm Mia," I said.

"Leo." He grinned. "I know. I've seen you around school. I always wondered why you never came in."

The bell rang for early practice. Another guy called his name.

"Friday?" he asked again.

I nodded, unable to form words.

"Cool. Don't be late." He winked. "I'll be waiting."

As he walked away, my palm still tingled from the air between his hand and mine. I touched the palm tree one last time—like thanks for the cover—and walked home, already counting down the days until Friday.