The Summer I Spied on Everything

The first thing you notice about the country club is how the palm trees sway like they're mocking your entire existence. I stood by the padel court, gripping my racket like a weapon I didn't know how to use, while Brooke—the girl I'd been secretly crushing on since seventh grade—launched a serve that practically broke the sound barrier.

"You're staring again," my best friend Mateo whispered, elbowing me. "You look like a total creep."

"I'm not staring," I lied. "I'm observing. There's a difference."

"Bro, you're basically a spy at this point. Just talk to her."

Easier said than done. My hair was doing this weird flippy thing that happened when it got too long, and I'd already sweated through my shirt. Meanwhile, Brooke looked effortless in her athletic wear, dominating the court like she owned everything within a ten-mile radius.

That's when Bryce—the biggest bull at our school—louders across the court, "Nice form, Leo! Maybe try actually hitting the ball next time?"

Everyone laughed. I felt my face burn hotter than the asphalt.

But then Brooke turned around, hair in a messy bun that somehow looked perfect, and locked eyes with me. "Ignore him," she called out. "Your backswing was actually solid. You just need to follow through."

Something in my chest did this weird fluttery thing.

"See?" Mateo grinned. "She noticed you."

"She noticed my terrible backswing. Same thing."

"Brooke doesn't waste time giving advice to people she thinks are hopeless," he said knowingly. "Just saying."

I looked at my palm—sweaty, clutching the racket handle—and thought about how much I wanted to stay in my comfort zone versus how much I wanted to see what might happen if I actually stepped up to the net.

I took a breath. "Hey," I called out, walking toward the court. "You think you could show me that follow-through?"

Brooke's smile was worth every embarrassing moment that led up to it.

"Absolutely," she said. "But warning: I don't go easy on anyone."

"Wouldn't want you to."

Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is exactly what terrifies you most. And sometimes, just sometimes, it's worth it.