The Summer I Tried Too Hard

That summer, everything was supposed to change. I'd finally become _interesting_—you know, the kind of person who had weekend plans and didn't spend Friday nights rewatching The Office for the seventh time.

It started with the **vitamin** gummies. My mom bought them in bulk from Costco, promising they'd fix my 'phase.' I choked down three every morning, trying to believe they'd transform me into someone who said things like 'let's circle back' without irony.

Then came **padel**. Maya had been talking about the club courts all spring, how her brother's friends played there on Saturdays, and wasn't it _so_ random how they always ended up at Smoothie King after? I signed up for lessons despite never touching a racquet. My first day, I tripped over my own feet while serving, and the ball flew backward into the fence. The instructor, a guy named Chase with annoyingly perfect hair, didn't laugh. He just said, 'Tight. Just—tight energy, bro.'

Worse than the lessons were the lunch incidents. I started bringing **spinach** wraps because Maya mentioned something about 'clean eating' at lunch one day. The wraps were dry, the spinach kept falling out, and I spent three weeks picking green bits out of my teeth while hoping no one noticed.

The real disaster happened the day I met **Fox**—actual name: Fiona, but everyone called her Fox because she was _sly_ about everything. She leaned against the bleachers during my third padel lesson, watching me miss another serve.

'You're trying too hard,' she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

'What?'

'The vitamins. The spinach. The whole vibe.' Fox hopped down from the bleachers. 'You're like a bear hibernating for someone else's winter.'

I stared at her. 'Did you just call me a bear?'

'You're growling at the wrong things, man.' She handed me a Gatorade. 'Chase thinks you're trying to prove something. Everyone can tell.'

Something in my chest unclenched. 'So what do I do instead?'

'Stop performing.' Fox shrugged. 'Be terrible at padel. Hate spinach. Own it.'

The next Saturday, I showed up to lessons, missed every serve intentionally, and laughed when I tripped. Chase smiled—actually smiled. And that afternoon, when Fox suggested we all hit Smoothie King, I ordered a chocolate milkshake with extra whipped cream.

Maya sat across from me, and I didn't mention my vitamin intake once. The spinach stayed in the fridge. For the first time all summer, I didn't feel like I was waiting to become someone worth knowing.

I was already here.