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I'd spent every summer since I was twelve in the pool, perfecting my butterfly stroke while my friends were at the beach doing actual teenager things. Competitive swimming wasn't e...
Maya's thumb hovered over the screen, heart doing that weird flutter thing it always did when she opened Instagram. There it was — another group photo from Jessica's party that eve...
My entire life lived in that glass rectangle. Every notification, every like, every 'u up?' text existed only on my iPhone screen, carefully curated and obsessively checked. I was ...
I wasn't supposed to be at the country club. Mom had scored a summer job there cleaning locker rooms, which somehow meant I got guest privileges that felt borrowed, like someone el...
Maya smoothed the oversized neon bucket hat for the fifteenth time, checking her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The hat was ridiculous, borderline criminal, but it was what eve...
Maya's mom stood in the kitchen, arms crossed like the Great Sphinx itself, blocking the refrigerator with that look—the one that said 'we need to talk about your health again.' Th...
Maya's fingers flew across her iPhone screen at dinner, the familiar glow lighting up her face under the table. Her cousins laughed about something—she wasn't paying attention. She...
The pool hall smelled like old cedar and teenage rebellion. Perfect. Maya adjusted her glasses, pretending she knew what she was doing with the cue stick. She didn't. Her friends ...
Maya had been running late everywhere lately—late to first period, late to volleyball practice, late to growing up, basically. So when Tyler finally asked her to the spring carniva...
I was running late—again—to what might be the most important party of the summer. Lila's pool party. The air was thick with humidity as I sprinted toward her house, my backpack bou...
The social hierarchy at Northwood High operated like a pyramid, and I was definitely at the bottom. Freshman year felt like one long exercise in trying not to embarrass myself, whi...
Maya positioned herself behind the fake palm tree, channeling her inner spy. She'd been **running** from Connor all summer—okay, fine, sprinting in the opposite direction whenever ...