Zombie Mode at Sunset Court

I was basically running on zero sleep, operating in full zombie mode after staying up until 3am doomscrolling. Again. My mom's orange juice sat untouched on the kitchen counter as I grabbed my padel racket and headed to the courts.

"You're actually gonna show up?" Mia asked when I walked in, her eyebrows raised in that way that made me feel tiny. The whole squad was there—Chris, Sophie, even Lucas who I'd been lowkey avoiding since he ghosted me at Jordan's party last month.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I?" I shot back, trying to sound casual but my voice cracked. Classic.

We started playing and I was playing like actual trash. My reflexes were shot, my brain felt like it was underwater. Every swing, every miss, I could feel them watching. Just waiting for me to prove I didn't belong.

Then I saw it—a fox darting along the fence line, wild and free and completely unbothered by our teenage drama. It stopped for like half a second and looked right at me. In that moment, something clicked.

I wasn't some awkward zombie trying to fake my way through friendships that didn't fit anymore. I was just... me. A person who sometimes stayed up too late, who wasn't amazing at padel, who was still figuring out who she actually was versus who everyone wanted her to be.

"Yo, you good?" Chris asked. I'd just stopped mid-game, staring at nothing.

"Actually?" I said, wiping sweat and probably some tears from my face. "No. Like, I'm exhausted and I feel like I've been pretending to be someone I'm not for way too long."

The silence stretched. Ten seconds of absolute terror where I thought I'd just made the most cringe mistake of my life.

Then Sophie started laughing. Not mean laughing—real laughing. "Oh my god, SAME. I've been faking liking padel for MONTHS. This sport is so mid."

We all lost it. The tension broke like a wave crashing. I finally grabbed my mom's orange juice and took a sip. It was warm and weirdly perfect.

Maybe that's what growing up actually is—not having it all figured out, but being brave enough to admit you don't. Being okay with being a work in progress instead of the main character in someone else's story.