The Zombie on Court Three

I walked through the halls like a total zombie, barely registering the high-fives and 'what's up, Marcus?' that followed me down the corridor. Three hours of baseball practice every day will do that to you. My dad's voice echoed in my head: 'You've got a scholarship to earn, son.' The weight of expectations sat heavier than my backpack.

'Marcus, bro, you good?' Jenna fell into step beside me. We'd been best friends since kindergarten, back when my biggest worry was whether I'd get the strawberry or chocolate Pop-Tart.

'Just tired,' I muttered, not making eye contact. 'Coach has us doing conditioning until we puke.'

She stopped walking. 'That's it. You're coming with me.'

'Where? I have batting practice—'

'No you don't.' She grabbed my arm. 'You need a break from the baseball machine. Trust me.'

That's how I ended up at the padel courts, a racquet in my hand, staring at a glass-walled court that looked like something from a futuristic video game. Padel was like tennis and squash had a baby with more walls and zero pressure.

'Okay,' Jenna said, bouncing on her toes. 'The rule is: you can't think about scouts or scholarships or your dad's disappointed face. Just hit the ball. Have fun. Remember what that feels like?'

I served. The ball hit the back wall, bounced at a weird angle, and I scrambled to return it, laughing as I completely whiffed. But something weird happened—I actually laughed. A real laugh, not the fake one I used when coaches made jokes that weren't funny.

'You're terrible at this,' Jenna called, grinning.

'I know!' I yelled back, and meant it.

We played for two hours. I was sweaty, my hair was a mess, and I hadn't thought about my batting average once. For the first time in months, I didn't feel like a zombie going through the motions of someone else's life.

Walking home, Jenna looked at me sideways. 'Better?'

'Yeah,' I admitted. 'Hey, thanks.'

'Anytime. But seriously, your padel game needs work.'

I laughed. 'Tomorrow?'

'Tomorrow.'

Maybe I'd still play baseball. Maybe I wouldn't. But for once, the future wasn't the only thing that mattered.