Zombie Summer at the Pool

At 2 AM, I stared into the fishbowl, watching Goldie circle endlessly like she was plotting something brilliant. She was the only one who understood my zombie state—four weeks of summer training at the country club would do that to anyone. My phone buzzed. Jordan. Again.

"You coming to the padel tournament tomorrow? Everyone's gonna be there."

Like I could say no. Jordan, with their perfect smile and effortless cool, had somehow decided I was worth their attention this summer. Me, whose entire personality revolved around being decent at tennis and owning a goldfish named Goldie.

"Yeah," I typed back. "Wouldn't miss it."

The padel court at the club was basically where social hierarchies were established. I'd been practicing secretly in my backyard, videoing my form, analyzing it like I was training for the Olympics instead of trying to not embarrass myself in front of the popular crowd.

"You got this," I told Goldie that morning. She swam to the top, opened her mouth once, then descended again. Solid advice.

The tournament was chaos. Rackets hitting balls, people shouting, Coach Martinez barking orders. I played on autopilot, feeling like I was underwater, everything muffled and distant. Until the semifinals.

Jordan was my doubles partner. Our opponents: Tyler and Sarah, the couple who made everything a competition. The score was tied. Match point.

"You got this," Jordan said, bumping my shoulder. Their palm was sweaty against my skin.

I served. Tyler returned. Jordan sent it back. Sarah's shot sailed high—too high. I jumped, racket extended, and connected. The ball hit the corner, perfect.

We won.

Afterward, everyone jumped in the pool, clothes and all. Jordan grabbed my hand. "Come on."

We swam out to the deep end, treading water as the sun set golden across the water. "You're actually really good," Jordan said. "I mean, like, really good."

"Thanks," I managed, heart hammering harder than any match point ever had. "So are you."

We floated there as the pool lights flickered on, surrounded by laughing friends, tired but not tired at all, the zombie feeling replaced by something electric and new. Goldie would've been proud.