Thunder Court Secrets

Maya's phone buzzed with another notification from Alex's Instagram. Three weeks of careful digital stalking—okay, fine, spying—and she still hadn't worked up the courage to actually talk to him. The new transfer student with the stupidly perfect hair and mysterious past had become her part-time job, and honestly? The hours were terrible but the benefits were excellent.

"You coming or what?" Chloe yelled from the padel court. "Regional championships don't wait for your crush-induced paralysis."

Maya shoved her phone deep in her backpack and grabbed her racquet. The tournament was already chaotic enough without her emotional baggage weighing down her serve. Outside, the sky had turned that particular shade of purple-gray that meant either something beautiful or something terrible was about to happen.

First set went okay. Second set, not so much. Maya found herself distracted every time Alex wandered past with his teammates, doing that thing where he pretended not to notice her while definitely noticing her. Teenage romance was exhausting, and she wasn't even technically in one yet.

Then came the lightning.

Not the distant, pretty kind. The crack-bam-SHATTER kind that made everyone on the outdoor courts scream and scatter toward the covered pavilion. Maya found herself squashed against the back wall, rain soaking through her jersey, heart pounding for approximately seventeen reasons at once.

"Nice form back there," someone said beside her.

Maya almost dropped her racquet. Alex. Standing there like it was completely normal to comment on someone's athletic abilities during a natural disaster.

"I thought you were with your team," she managed, despite her mouth suddenly forgetting how words worked.

"They're arguing over strategy again." He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Besides, I've been, uh, spying on your game all week. You've got serious power behind that backhand."

Her brain short-circuited. He'd been watching her? This whole time she'd been obsessively checking his stories and desperate glimpse of him in the hallway, and HE had been watching HER play padel? The universe had a weird sense of humor.

"I—what?" Smooth, Maya. Real smooth.

Alex laughed, and she realized she'd never actually heard him laugh before. It was better than his Instagram stories suggested, which was annoyingly perfect of him. "Yeah. My old school didn't have padel. I've been trying to pick it up, but you make it look easy."

Thunder rattled the metal roof above them. Someone's bear mascot headband fell off a shelf and rolled across the floor. Neither of them moved to pick it up.

"Show me sometime," she heard herself say, confident the storm noise would cover her voice cracking. "Your backhand, I mean. Not—"

"Yeah." His eyes were brighter than the storm outside. "I'd like that."

The rain kept pouring. The tournament got cancelled. But Maya walked home with something better than a trophy—Alex's actual number in her actual phone, saved under something cooler than "Alex From Padel."