The Green Between Us

The invitation sat in my DMs like a challenge: 'Padel tomorrow? The new courts downtown.' From Tyler. The same Tyler who'd ghosted me all summer once he made varsity and started sitting with the popular crowd at lunch.

I showed up anyway. We used to be inseparable in middle school, before he cared about being cool.

'Thought you'd bail,' Tyler said, barely looking up from stretching. His perfect outfit—expensive shorts, coordinated wristband—made my Target gear feel extra obvious.

'I brought my A-game,' I lied. I hadn't picked up a racquet since gym class last year.

The first few rallies were brutal. Tyler crushed every serve, smirking when I whiffed. But somewhere in the second set, something shifted. I stopped trying to impress him and started actually playing. My returns got sharper. My serves landed in.

'Where'd you learn that backhand?' Tyler asked, genuinely surprised for once.

'YouTube,' I said, and we both laughed. Real laughter, not his fake performative stuff from school.

After, we sat on a bench dripping sweat while Tyler scrolled through delivery options on his phone. 'My place. My parents are gone. I found this place that makes insane spinach artichoke dip.'

Spinach. The word hit me like a time machine. Freshman year, we'd dared each other to eat an entire bag of frozen spinach on a dare. We'd both thrown up behind the bleachers. Been friends ever since.

'Just like old times?' I asked, trying to sound casual.

Tyler looked up from his phone, really looked at me, for the first time in months. 'Yeah. Just like old times.'

We ordered two dips. We talked about everything—how weird it is that everyone expects us to know what we're doing with our lives, how much it sucks that his parents are divorcing, how I'm terrified I'll never make varsity anything. No performing. Just us.

'I missed this,' he admitted, scraping the last of the spinach onto a chip. 'Like, actually missed it. Not just saying it.'

'Me too.'

'Next weekend?' He gestured toward the courts. 'Same time?'

'Only if you're ready to lose,' I said.

'Tyler the Terrible has returned,' he announced like he was announcing his arrival to a red carpet. 'Consider yourself warned.'

Whatever. Let him be dramatic. I'd take the old Tyler back—spinach disasters, uncool outfits, and all.