The Summer of Wrong Courts

The neon orange padel ball whizzed past my ear, missing my head by approximately two inches. 'My bad, bro!' called Chase, the kid whose dad owned half of Malibu. I flashed a thumbs-up while internally calculating how many weeks of this I had to survive before I could afford actual cleats for baseball tryouts.

Teaching padel at the country club wasn't exactly how I pictured spending my sixteenth summer. But apparently my mom's friend's cousin knew someone, and here I was, making thirty bucks an hour watching wealthy teenagers struggle with a sport that's basically tennis's forgotten cousin.

'You're running it wrong,' said Skylar, adjusting her oversized sunglasses while somehow maintaining perfect posture. 'Your stance is off.' She'd been giving me unsolicited advice all week, which was rich considering she'd missed every shot since arriving.

The club's mascot—a giant, slightly creepy bear costume named Barnaby—shuffled past the courts. Old Man Miller inside the suit looked like he was questioning every life choice that led him here. The bear waved at us, and I waved back because what else do you do?

'Why don't you ever talk about baseball?' Skylar asked suddenly, bouncing a padel ball on her racket strings. 'Everyone says you were MVP last year.'

I froze. 'Padel's paying the bills.'

'So?' She shrugged. 'My dad says people who settle for what pays the bills instead of what they love end up like Barnaby.' She pointed at the bear, who was currently being photobombed by a toddler. 'Stuck in a sweaty costume, waving at people who don't care.'

That hit different.

Later, during my break, I found a plastic baggie with three goldfish from the club's lobby aquarium. Chase and his friends had apparently decided to 'liberate' them. I stared at those fish swimming in circles in like, two inches of water, and something clicked.

I walked straight to the manager's office and quit.

'You're what?' Mom asked later that night, absolutely losing it.

'Going to baseball camp,' I said, feeling lighter than I had all summer. 'And I need you to drive me to the pet store first. I have three fish that need a proper tank.'

She stared at me, then started laughing. 'You're ridiculous.' But she grabbed her keys.

Sometimes you've gotta stop swimming in tiny circles before you realize there's a whole ocean out there. Also, never trust a sixteen-year-old with your aquarium.