Zombie on the Padel Court

Maya dragged herself through fourth period physics, feeling straight-up **zombie** mode. Three hours of sleep thanks to that bio lab disaster would do that to you. Her **dog**, Buster, had spent half the night barking at absolutely nothing while her parents argued about the **cable** bill again. Classic.

"You look dead," Chloe whispered, sliding a note across the desk. "Padel tryouts after school? You said you'd go."

Right. **Padel**. The sport everyone was suddenly obsessed with because Tyler Reynolds played it, and Tyler Reynolds was—objectively, according to Chloe's extensive analysis—the hottest sophomore to exist.

Maya's stomach did that nervous flip thing. She'd never even held a **padel** racket before. But Tyler had noticed her yesterday in the hallway, actually noticed her, and mentioned tryouts like it was a thing normal people discussed. So here she was.

Lunch was its own nightmare. The cafeteria was serving "healthy options" again, which meant a **spinach** salad that looked like it had already been chewed. Maya poked at it with her fork while Chloe recapped the drama from third period—something about who cheated on who in Jenna's friend group, and honestly, Maya lost track somewhere around "and then she screenshot the messages."

"Are you gonna eat that?" Malik asked, nodding at her **spinach**.

"Take it. I physically can't."

"Your loss." He dumped it on his tray like it was gold. "You nervous about tryouts?"

"No," Maya lied. "Totally chill. Why would I be nervous? It's just a sport I've never played in front of people I'm trying to impress."

Malik snorted. "Real convincing, Williams."

The gym was packed when they got there. Tyler was already on the **padel** court, laughing at something his friends said. His hair was perfect. Of course it was perfect. Maya felt like she'd been dragged through a **spinach** patch backward.

"You coming?" Tyler called, waving his racket at her.

Maya's feet moved before her brain could overthink it. Step one: don't trip. Step two: remember how to hold the racket. Step three: impress Tyler enough that he might actually learn her name.

Buster would be so disappointed if he could see her right now—betraying a fellow introvert for a boy with nice hair and a **padel** racket. But as Maya stepped onto the court, something weird happened. The zombie fog lifted. For the first time all day, she actually felt awake.

Game on, literally.