The Spy Who Couldn't Serve

I'd been lurking courtside for twenty minutes, straight-up *spy* vibes, pretending to be deeply fascinated by my phone while actually watching Leo crush yet another padel match. He moved like the sport was his love language — all calculated angles and that effortless smile that made my stomach do actual gymnastics.

"You gonna play or just stan from the sidelines?" Maya appeared beside me, knocking her water bottle against my shoulder. "You've been camping here since Tuesday. It's getting weird, bestie."

"I'm not camping," I protested, though my iPhone charging cable was still tangled around my wrist from where I'd abandoned it near the benches. "I'm observing. Strategic analysis."

"Mhm. Totally normal behavior." Maya rolled her eyes so hard I worried they'd get stuck. "He's literally just playing padel, Zara. It's not that deep."

But it *was* that deep. Because in three days, the regional tournament started, and if Leo made varsity captain, he'd transfer schools. This was my last chance to talk to him before my stupid feelings became long-distance stupid feelings.

Outside, the sky had that bruised purple look, the kind that promised chaos. *Lightning* forked across the clouds like nature's glitch effect.

"Game's about to get cancelled," Maya predicted. "Weather app says it's about to pour."

But Leo kept playing, his ponytail swinging, his focus locked on the ball like nothing else existed. Then — *crash*. The sky opened up. Rain sheeted down, turning the padel court into a slippery disaster zone. Players scattered toward the covered area, laughing and shaking *water* from their hair like golden retrievers.

Leo headed straight for me. My brain short-circuited. This was it. The moment every rom-com had trained me for.

"Hey, you're Zara, right?" He stood close enough that I could smell rain and coconut deodorant. "You left this charging cable by the courts yesterday. Been meaning to return it."

I stared at him. The cable dangled from his fingers like the world's most awkward peace offering. My opening line — smooth, charming, definitely not about how I'd been lowkey *spy*-ing on his practice schedule — died in my throat.

"Oh! That's. Yeah. Thanks." Smooth, Zara. Real smooth.

"You play?" He nodded toward the court.

"Terribly," I admitted. "But I'm trying to learn. For... fitness reasons. Totally normal reasons."

Leo laughed, and it was even better up close. "I could teach you sometime. If you want."

The rain pounded on the metal roof above us, drowning out Maya's not-subtle *gasp* behind my back. *Lightning* flashed again, illuminating the moment in this surreal, electric freeze-frame.

"Yeah," I said, my voice barely steady. "I'd really like that."