The Padel Court Conspiracy

Jordan yanked his baseball cap lower, hoping the brim would somehow make him invisible. He'd been lurking outside the community center for twenty minutes, feeling like a total creep but unable to leave.

"You're not exactly spy material," Maya said, appearing beside him with a smirk. She had her padel racket slung over her shoulder, wearing those weirdly specific court shoes everyone seemed to have.

Jordan jumped. "I'm not spying. I'm just... observing. Strategically."

"Right. Because staring through the fence at Jordan's practice is totally normal behavior." She raised an eyebrow. "You know he's in our Spanish class, right? You could just talk to him."

"And say what? 'Hey, noticed you're bilingual and moderately athletic'?

He patted his pockets, then remembered he'd left his phone at home. Along with his dignity.

"You're overthinking this," Maya said, but gentler this time. "Look, some of us are playing extra courts tomorrow. Jordan too. You should come."

"I don't play padel."

"Neither did I, like, two months ago. It's not that deep." She gestured at his cap. "Lose the hat though. You look like you're about to rob a 7-Eleven."

The next day, Jordan showed up with his hair product-free and a borrowed racket. His hands shook so badly he missed the ball three times before even making contact. But somewhere between diving for a shot he had no business reaching and accidentally hitting his partner in the back with a serve, something shifted.

Jordan high-fived him after. "Not bad for your first time. You've got some hustle."

"Hustle and complete lack of coordination," Jordan managed, breathless and weirdly happy.

"We've all been there," Jordan said, then added, "You taking those vitamin gummies? Because your skin's been clearing up."

Jordan's face burned. "You noticed?"

"Dude, we're at an all-school assembly together every week. I'm not blind." He bumped Jordan's shoulder. "Anyway, you should come back Thursday. Same time."

Walking home, Jordan pulled out his phone—retrieved from his bedside table at last—and opened the group chat. "I might have joined padel," he typed. "Also Jordan knows I exist."

Maya responded immediately: "TOLD you. Also who's Jordan? You mean THE Jordan? 😏"

Jordan grinned at his screen. The conspiracy wasn't so secret anymore, but somehow, that was even better.