The Padel Court Confession

My hair was doing that weird frizzy thing it does when I'm nervous, and today I had every reason to be nervous. Standing at the edge of the padel court, watching Jake laugh with his friends like he owned the place, I felt like I'd swallowed a rock.

"You coming in or what?" Maya elbowed me, grinning. She'd been my best friend since sixth grade, back when my biggest problem was which backpack to get. Now? Now my biggest problem was the completely obvious crush I had on Jake, who happened to be absolute bull at every sport ever invented.

"I'm coming," I lied, adjusting my ponytail for the tenth time.

The PE teacher blew her whistle. "Pick teams!" Jake was chosen first, obviously. I was picked last, equally obviously. But then Jake called out, "Hey, pick Sam—I've seen them play."

My heart did this embarrassing flutter thing. He'd noticed me?

The game started. Padel is basically tennis but with walls, and I'd been practicing in my driveway since I signed up for this tournament. When Jake smashed a ball toward my backhand, I didn't think—I just moved. The ball hit the wall, I angled my racket, and sent it flying past him.

"Whoa," he said, actually impressed. "Since when do you play like that?"

"Since my cat started knocking balls off the fence and I had to chase them," I said, then immediately wanted to die. Why did I always say the most awkward things possible?

But Jake laughed. Not mean-laughed. Actually laughed. "That's adorable. What's your cat's name?"

"Buster," I said, feeling my face heat up.

"Cool," he said, and then—SMASH—he sent a ball straight at me. I returned it without thinking. We were volleying back and forth, and I was actually keeping up with him, and suddenly I wasn't the nervous kid with bad hair anymore. I was just a person playing padel, and I was good at it.

After the game, Jake found me by the water fountain. "Hey, Sam? You should join the team. We need someone who can actually return my serve."

I smiled so hard my face hurt. "Maybe."

"Definitely," he said. "Also, your hair looks cool today."

I walked home with Maya, grinning like an idiot. Some days are garbage, but some days? Some days you make the padel team—well, almost—and the cute boy notices your hair, and life doesn't completely suck.