Tropical Courts and Digital Waves
The humidity hit me like a wall when I stepped onto the outdoor **padel** court. My phone was blowing up in my pocket — Maya was texting me every thirty seconds about the party tonight.
"You gonna play or just stare at your **iPhone** all day?" Lucas called from across the court. He was leaning on his racquet, that annoying smirk plastered on his face.
"Chill, I'm coming." I shoved my phone deep in my bag and grabbed my racquet. My palms were already sweating.
This was supposed to be a casual summer game at the resort, but Lucas had turned everything into a competition since we got here. He was like a **bull** charging at a red cape whenever we played anything — basketball, ping pong, now padel. And he knew I had a crush on Maya, who was currently watching from the poolside.
The game started. I couldn't focus. Every time I missed a shot, I heard Maya's laugh from the lounge chairs. Lucas was crushing me, 6-2, and I could feel my face burning hotter than the tropical sun.
"You want some **water**?" Lucas asked after winning another point, sounding way too nice about it.
"I'm good." I wasn't good. I was spiraling.
Then my phone buzzed again. Against all better judgment, I checked it. Maya had posted a photo of herself by the pool with some tropical drink. A sliced **papaya** was garnishing the rim, looking fancy and effortless — everything I wasn't right now.
"Seriously?" Lucas stood there, hands on his hips. "You're checking Instagram during a match?"
Something snapped. I tossed my phone onto the bench. "Game on."
I don't know what changed — maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe I stopped caring about looking cool — but suddenly I was returning everything Lucas sent at me. We went point for point, my sneakers squeaking on the artificial grass, the sun blazing overhead, until finally —
My shot hit the corner. Perfect.
Lucas actually smiled. "Finally."
Maya wasn't at the pool anymore. But my phone lit up with a new message: 'URNT U GONNA INVITE ME 2 THE PARTY 2NIGHT??'
I grinned, wiping sweat from my forehead. Some wins were bigger than padel scores.