Zombie Mode

Maya dragged herself to the padel court, feeling like a straight-up zombie. Three hours of sleep, AP Euro homework until 2 AM, and now Saturday morning social obligations? She was running on pure spite and the strawberry vitamin gummies she'd snagged from her brother's stash.

"You look dead," said Chloe, bouncing on her toes with way too much energy. "Seriously, you good?"

"Living the dream," Maya deadpanned, adjusting her grip on the racquet.

The truth was, Maya used to live for Saturday mornings. But that was back when they meant baseball practice with Coach Miller and the team — cleats digging into dirt, the satisfying crack of the bat, her crew hyping each other up. Then came the pivot to "more refined" sports, because apparently a freshman year growth spurt meant it was time to get "polished." Whatever that meant.

Padel was fine, honestly. It was just... different. Smaller court. Different rhythm. And definitely different people — the country club crowd instead of her regular neighborhood friends.

"Your mom's texting you," Chloe said between volleys. "Something about vitamins?"

Maya's phone buzzed in her bag. "She thinks I'm deficient in, like, everything. Iron. Vitamin D. Joy."

"Facts," Chloe laughed, smashing a return that Maya totally should've gotten.

They played another set, and something weird happened — Maya started actually having fun. Not baseball fun, but fun nonetheless. Chloe was hilarious, trash-talking between points but encouraging during them. The game was fast, satisfying, and Maya realized she wasn't tired anymore. The zombie feeling had lifted somewhere around game point.

"Same time next week?" Chloe asked as they gathered their gear.

"Yeah," Maya found herself saying. And she meant it.

Maybe change wasn't the enemy. Maybe she could keep the baseball version of herself in her heart while still learning to crush it at padel. Maybe she could even text her mom back about those vitamins.

Baby steps.