The Vitamin Theory of Cool

Maya lined them up on the counter in a perfect rainbow of wellness capitalism. Vitamin D3 for mood (Instagram said so), B-complex for energy, magnesium for sleep (she'd been doomscrolling until 3 AM since eighth grade), and—her secret shame—the Flintstone-shaped multivitamin she'd stolen from her little brother's stash because they tasted like childhood and didn't make her feel like she was dying of something she'd read about on WebMD.

"You're doing it again," Kai said, appearing behind her like the ghost of friendships past. They'd been inseparable since the shark-themed birthday party in second grade, now reduced to watching each other from across the cafeteria. "The whole 'if I optimize every variable, I'll become a different person' thing."

"I'm just preparing," Maya said, swallowing them all with water that was slightly too warm. "For padel."

"Padel." Kai raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you play padel?"

"Since it's what cool people do, Kai. Since Chloe's entire friend group plays every Saturday at that club by the mall and she invited me and I said yes and now I have to not humiliate myself."

"You could just, I don't know, be yourself?"

Maya rolled her eyes. Because that was the thing Kai didn't get. Being herself was exactly the problem.

The padel court was a glass-walled temple to athletic insecurity. Chloe's friends—all with that effortless confidence Maya had been trying to purchase in supplement form for three years—were already warming up. They had matching outfits. They spoke in inside jokes that existed before Maya arrived.

"You're Maya!" Chloe said, handing her a racquet. "We're so glad you came."

Maya's first serve hit the net. The second went wild. By the third, she'd forgotten everything about footwork or strategy and was just swinging at the ball like it had personally offended her.

But then—she connected.

The ball sailed perfectly over the net, landing just inside the line. Someone whooped. It was Kai, standing outside the glass walls with a Gatorade they'd clearly bought from the vending machine, wearing that same hoodie from seventh grade with the mysterious stain on the sleeve.

"Maya's got that HIDDEN TALENT," Kai shouted through the glass. "Remember when we tried to learn TikTok dances in your basement and I almost broke your TV?"

Chloe's friends laughed. Not mean laughter—genuine laughter. Suddenly, Maya wasn't performing. She was just playing, badly and joyfully, while her oldest friend made a spectacle of themself outside and somehow made it feel like safety.

After the match, sweaty and exhausted in a way supplements couldn't fake, Maya found Kai sitting on a bench.

"You came," she said.

"Of course I came. Someone had to witness your athletic awakening."

"I'm still taking the vitamins, though."

"I know," Kai said, pulling a Flintstone vitamin from their pocket—clearly also stolen from Maya's brother's stash. "But maybe you only need this one."

They both took it at the same time, like a ritual. Like a promise.

The other girls invited Maya back next Saturday. She said yes—but she texted Kai first: you're coming, right?

Some things couldn't be supplemented. Some things had to be earned. And maybe the coolest thing was having someone who'd show up to watch you fail at padel and cheer anyway.