The Padel Court Prophecy

Three inches. That's how much hair I'd cut off the morning of freshman orientation. Staring in the bathroom mirror, I thought I looked edgy. Brave. Like someone who wouldn't spend lunch period hiding in the library again.

"You look like you stuck a fork in an electrical outlet," Maya said when I met her at the bus stop. She didn't even look up from her phone. "Also, why are you wearing a polo? Are you going golfing?"

"It's for padel," I muttered, even though I'd never played. My cousin Sarah said the cute sophomore boys tried out for the team. That was the extent of my strategy.

Maya finally glanced up. "You're doing a glow-up? Sweetie, you look like a middle-aged dentist."

Thanks, Maya.

By third period, I'd already spilled glitter glue on my polo. Why did I even own glitter glue? The universe clearly had opinions about my reinvention.

Then I saw him. Leo. Reading a graphic novel in the hallway, hair that actually looked good messy, and—no joke—an actual sphinx gecko on his shoulder. A tiny, wrinkled, absolutely ancient-looking creature blinking slowly like it knew all my embarrassing moments before they happened.

"Is that..." I started, then stopped. Smooth. Very smooth.

"This is Nebuchadnezzar," Leo said, scratching the gecko's chin. "My sister's. I'm reptile-sitting. He's judging everyone. It's his whole vibe."

"Cool," I managed. "I'm—"

"The girl who chopped off three inches of hair and immediately regretted it?"

My face burned. "That's public knowledge?"

"Maya posted it." He grinned. "Also, you have glitter in your eyebrows."

I wiped my forehead frantically. "I was trying to be someone else today. Someone who plays sports and makes casual conversation and doesn't hide in libraries."

Leo considered this, Nebuchadnezzar still doing his sphinx-like judgment routine on his shoulder. "What's wrong with who you already are?"

The question hit harder than it should have.

"My parents keep replacing my goldfish before I can name them," I said finally. "They think I won't notice. It's like they think I have the memory of... well, a goldfish. I just wanted to be someone who noticed things."

Leo laughed, and it was genuine. "Wanna skip sixth period? I can teach you actual padel. The team's full of try-hards anyway."

We did. I was terrible at padel. My hair still looked weird. But somewhere between missing every ball and Nebuchadnezzar escaping Leo's backpack, I figured something out: the glow-up wasn't about cutting hair or joining teams. It was about finding someone who let you be awkward in public.

Also, I named the gecko. He's technically my emotional support sphinx now.