Thunder Court Match Point

Maya dragged herself onto the padel court at Camp Silver Lake, feeling like the walking dead. Three consecutive nights of Facetiming her crush back home—himself now ghosting her—had turned her into a certified zombie. Her iPhone battery was at 12%, and so was she.

"You look rough, chica," said Javier, the counsellor with the annoying perfect smile and abs that definitely didn't come from playing padel. "Want me to go easy on you?"

"In your dreams, Javier." Maya tightened her ponytail. "Prepare to get wrecked."

They were tied at deuce in the camp championship match when it happened. A flash of lightning split the sky, followed immediately by thunder so loud it vibrated through the court floor. Rain began hammering down—thick, warm summer drops that turned the glass back wall into a waterfall.

"Game suspended!" someone shouted.

But neither of them moved. They stood there, dripping wet, breathing hard, grinning like idiots. And then Maya's iPhone, sitting on the bench, lit up with a notification that she could see from the court. Her crush. Finally.

She looked at the phone, then at Javier, who was wiping rain from his eyelashes with the back of his hand, still smiling that annoyingly perfect smile. The phone screen timed out, dark and forgotten.

"One more point?" Maya asked, hair plastered to her face, feeling more alive than she had in weeks. "Winner takes bragging rights for the rest of the summer."

"You're on, zombie girl." Javier tossed her the ball.

Maya served into the lightning, not caring who won. The zombie was dead. The phone could wait. And for the first time all summer, she was exactly where she wanted to be.