Zombie Mode at the Padel Court

I was operating on pure zombie mode—third consecutive all-nighter will do that to you. My eyes burned, my brain felt like mush, and I was pretty sure I'd forgotten how to human somewhere around 2 AM while doomscrolling through insta.

So when Harper literally dragged me out of bed at noon on Saturday, I didn't even protest. That's what a best friend does—they rescue you from becoming an actual member of the walking dead.

"We're playing padel," she announced, throwing a racket at my face. I caught it mostly by reflex. "It'll be fun. Stop vibrating from caffeine and move your body."

Padel. Because obviously the solution to my existential crisis was a sport I didn't know existed until last week. The court looked like tennis ate a smaller, squarer court and then vomited it back up with glass walls.

But here's the thing—Harper's brother Jake was there. Jake, who I'd been lowkey spying on via social media since September. Jake, whose snap story I'd memorized like the periodic table. Jake, who was now stretching across the net like he didn't haunt my every waking thought.

"You good?" Harper whispered as I clutch-dropped my racket. Right in front of him. Cool, cool, cool.

"Yeah," I squeaked. "Just. Zombie. From finals."

Jake smirked. Like, actually smirked. "Rough week?"

"You have no idea," I said, and then—because my brain had clearly short-circuited—"I saw your dog got groomed on Tuesday. She looks cute with the summer cut."

Silence. Harper's eyes went wide. Jake's smirk evolved into full-on grin.

"You ... saw that on my story?" He stepped closer to the net.

"I mean," I scrambled, "my friend showed me. My friend who knows you. From school."

"Which friend?"

"Harper," I said, then immediately realized Harper was his actual sister. "Not Harper. A different Harper. There are multiple Harpers. It's a popular name."

He laughed. Not like, a pity laugh. A real one. "You've been spying on my social media since September, haven't you?"

"What? No. That's weird."

"Lia," Harper groaned. "You liked his grooming post literally three seconds after he posted it. At 2 AM. On a Tuesday."

I died. I actually died right there on the padel court. Became a zombie for real this time.

"Okay," Jake said, still grinning. "Okay. Game's doubles. Me and you against Harper and whatever unfortunate soul she kidnaps next. Winner gets Instagram access to my private story."

"Deal," I said, my heart doing gymnastics I didn't know were possible.

Maybe zombie mode wasn't so bad after all. Some things are worth staying awake for.