Thunder Court

My mom shoved the bottle at me before I could even grab my bag.

"You need your **vitamin** D, Leo. You're practically a vampire living in your room all summer."

I dry-swallowed the chalky pill because arguing took more energy than I had. Three weeks into sophomore year and I still hadn't found my people at Ridgeview High. The only friend I'd made was the security guard who let me eat lunch in the gym hallway.

That's why I was even considering this—**padel** lessons at the rec center. Maya, the girl who sat behind me in English, had mentioned it yesterday. Her braces flashed when she smiled. "It's like tennis but easier, Leo. You should come."

So there I was, standing at court four, gripping a borrowed racket like it might bite me. My shirt was already sticking to my back, and I'd literally only walked through the door.

"You're Leo, right?"

I turned too fast. Maya stood there with another guy—Tanner, from my history class. He had that effortless confidence I'd been trying to fake since August.

"Yeah," I managed. "Hey."

"Cool, we need a fourth," Tanner said, like we'd been friends for years. "Me and Maya versus you and..." He scanned the court. "Oi! Chen! Get over here!"

Chen waved from the bench and jogged over, adjusting his glasses. This was happening. I was actually doing sports. With people.

The game was chaos—me whiffing balls, Tanner's serves somehow hitting the back wall, Maya laughing every time someone tripped. And then it happened. Chen returned a ball at this impossible angle, and I just moved—no thinking, no second-guessing—my racket connecting with a sick *thwack*.

The ball zinged past Tanner's ear.

"WHAT," Tanner yelled, "was THAT?"

"Pure skill," Maya called, high-fiving me. Her hand was warm. "I told you he had game!"

We played for an hour. I forgot to be nervous. I forgot I was the new kid who sat alone at lunch sometimes. I was just Leo, who could occasionally hit a ball really hard.

Then the sky opened.

**Lightning** split the sky white-purple, followed by thunder that shook the rec center's roof. The automated lights over our court flickered and died.

"Everyone out!" a guard yelled. "Storm's rolling in fast!"

We grabbed our stuff and ran for the exit, bursting into the parking lot just as the rain started coming down sideways. Maya's car was at the far end of the lot.

"My phone's dead," she said, frowning at her key fob. "Can I get a ride from someone?"

Tanner's mom had already picked him up. Chen lived walking distance. That left me.

"I can drive you," I said, and then immediately regretted it. My car was my dad's old Prius with the peeling paint and the Frank Sinatra cassette tape stuck in the player.

"You're a lifesaver," Maya said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like she hadn't just condemned herself to a ride in the ugliest car at school.

We sat in the parking lot, rain drumming on the roof, waiting for the worst of it to pass. She didn't mention the peeling paint or the weird cassette situation. Instead she asked about my English project and complained about trigonometry and told me I should come back next week.

"Same time?" she said. "We're making you a regular now. No escape."

The storm cleared as we pulled into her driveway. Through the windshield, the clouds were breaking up, real sunlight spilling through for the first time all day.

"Thanks, Leo," she said, grabbing her bag. "See you Monday?"

"Yeah," I said, and actually meant it. "See you Monday."