The Secret Vitamin Pact

Maya swallowed the vitamin C tablet with grim determination. Her mom's voice echoed in her head: "Immune system, Maya! Flu season is coming!" But Maya knew the real reason she needed her immune system at peak capacity: surviving tryouts for the padel team.

"You're trying out for WHAT?" her best friend Jacey had asked when Maya dropped the news at lunch. "Since when do you play padel? That's like, tennis for people who want to look bougie."

"Since Liam joined the team," Maya muttered, tracing circles on the cafeteria table. "He said he needed more players."

Jacey rolled her eyes so hard Maya worried they might get stuck. "So you're learning an entire sport just to impress a guy? Bold strategy. What do you even know about padel?"

"I've been watching YouTube tutorials," Maya defended. "It's like tennis but with walls. And the scoring is weird."

The afternoon of tryouts, Maya's stomach did enough somersaults to qualify for the Olympics. She adjusted her borrowed padel racket—courtesy of Jacey's older sister—and took a deep breath. The vitamin C was definitely not working.

"Hey, you're new!" Liam called from across the court, waving. His smile was exactly as annoyingly perfect as she remembered. "Grab a partner!"

Maya's brain short-circuited. She scanned the court desperately, and that's when she saw him: a guy sitting alone against the fence, scrolling through his phone with a golden retriever on a leash beside him.

"Need a partner?" she blurted, marching over before she could overthink it.

The guy looked up, surprised. His dog—a fluffy, obviously very good boy—wagged his tail like a tiny metronome.

"Oh, I'm not—" he started.

"Perfect!" Maya grabbed his arm. "Come on, we're doing this."

"Wait, I don't even—"

"Your dog can be our mascot," she announced, somehow pulling him onto the court. "What's his name?"

"Barnaby," the guy laughed, finally cracking a smile. "And I'm Leo. Also, I don't know how to play padel."

"Neither do I," Maya admitted, feeling strangely lighter. "But we're going to fake it till we make it."

They spent the next hour missing every shot, hitting the fence more than the ball, and laughing so hard Maya's sides hurt. Barnaby barked encouragingly from the sidelines. And sure, maybe they didn't make the team—Liam didn't even notice them, honestly—but by the time they collapsed onto the grass, Maya had forgotten about the tryouts entirely.

"So," Leo said, catching his breath, "you want to get boba and teach me how to actually play this sport?"

Maya's phone buzzed—her mom reminding her to take her evening vitamin. She grinned, shoving it back in her pocket.

"Only if you bring Barnaby," she said. "He's obviously the real MVP here."