The Last Wednesday

Tyler's phone buzzed with the invite from Maya—the girl who sat behind him in third period and somehow made breathing look coordinated. Padel court at 4. She'd seen him playing with his dad last weekend and actually noticed he didn't completely suck.

The problem: his loyal Golden Retriever, Buster, had developed separation anxiety that manifested as reorganizing their living room furniture. And his sister's prize-winning goldfish, Geraldine, needed someone to feed her precisely three flakes at noon—failure meant starting World War III.

"You're not gonna bail, right?" his friend Marcus asked at lunch, totally missing that Tyler was operating on zero sleep after three nights of zombie-like existence thanks to midterms. "Maya actually invited YOU. This is huge."

Tyler felt like a walking paradox—allergic to attention but desperate for hers.

That afternoon, he chained Buster to the porch (with extra treats and an apology), fed Geraldine like his life depended on it, and sprinted to the courts. Maya was already there, laughing with her friends. Tyler's stomach did that thing where it forgot how to stomach.

"Hey! You made it," Maya called, waving her racket. "Ready to get destroyed?"

"I was born ready," Tyler lied, sweating through his t-shirt.

The first serve sailed past him at approximately the speed of light. "My arm's messed up," he improvised brilliantly. "Baseball injury from last season."

Maya raised an eyebrow. "You play baseball?"

"Used to," Tyler said, swinging at a ball that had already bounced twice. "Now I'm retired due to being terrible."

She laughed—genuinely, not politely. The sound unlocked something in his chest.

By the third game, he was actually... not terrible. Maya's competitive streak made her glare at every point she lost, which was adorable. When Tyler finally won a rally with a lucky shot off the wall, she threw her head back and groaned, and he knew he'd remember this moment forever.

"Same time next week?" she asked as they grabbed their bags.

"Yeah," Tyler managed, hoping his voice didn't crack. "Definitely."

Walking home, he felt different—not the invisible background character, but someone Maya wanted to see. Even Geraldine the goldfish seemed to acknowledge his upgraded status, swirling dramatically as he sprinkled her dinner.

His phone buzzed: Great game today, baseball injury 😂

Tyler lay on his bed staring at those two words while Buster curled up beside him, completely forgiven for yesterday's couch destruction. For the first time in forever, Wednesday felt like the start of something instead of just another day he had to survive.