The Vitamin Gummy Conspiracy

Maya's mom dropped the orange bottle on the kitchen counter like it was absolute.

"You need these vitamins. You've been looking tired."

Maya rolled her eyes so hard it actually hurt. "I'm fine, Mom. Just surviving junior year."

The truth was, Maya wasn't fine. At 16, she'd mastered the art of swimming through school hallways like she was invisible — head down, headphones on, absolutely not existing. But when the popular girls started talking about padel tournament signups, Maya panicked and said she played. She didn't. She'd never held a padel racket in her life.

Now here she was, Saturday morning, at the country club she absolutely could not afford, standing in a skirt that wasn't hers, clutching a borrowed racket like it was a weapon.

"You good?" asked Nate, the guy who'd apparently been assigned as her doubles partner. He was cute in that annoying effortless way. Also, clearly rich.

"Totally," Maya lied. "Just... vibing."

She sucked. Like, embarrassingly bad. Every swing was a whiff. Every ball that came her direction became a projectile aimed at her dignity. After the third time she tripped over her own feet, Nate started laughing. Not mean laughing — genuine, bent-double wheezing.

"Okay, okay," he gasped. "You're terrible. Like, impressively bad."

Maya felt her face burning. "Yeah, well. I don't actually play. I just—"

"Wait, seriously?" Nate straightened up, wiping actual tears from his eyes. "You signed up for a tournament when you don't know how to play? That's chaos energy. I respect it."

Something in his voice was so non-judgmental that Maya actually laughed. "My parents said I needed to get out more. Get some vitamin D or whatever."

"Damn. Parent talk." Nate checked his watch. "Well, we're gonna lose spectacularly. Want to go get actual food after? My treat."

They lost. They lost so bad that the other team definitely took pity on them. But as they walked to Nate's car, Maya realized she was grinning like an idiot. Maybe sometimes the worst moments turned into the best ones. Maybe pretending was exhausting, but accidentally being yourself? That hit different.

She should text her mom. The vitamins were working, actually — but not in the way her mom thought.