Breathing Underwater

I was basically a zombie that first week of sophomore year—stumbling through halls, eyes half-glued to my phone, existing but not really living. The whole high school social hierarchy hit harder than expected. Everyone seemed to know exactly who they was supposed to be. Me? I was still figuring out if I was jock material, band geek, or just that quiet kid who sat in the back.

Then Jordan—notice me for the first time since sixth grade—actually spoke to me. "You doing track this spring?" He asked it like it was the most normal thing in the world, like we hadn't spent three years ignoring each other's existence.

"Uh, maybe?" I managed, trying to sound chill but probably just sounding awkward. "Why?"

"We need more people for the relay team. You're always running to catch the bus anyway, so..." He shrugged, like it was obvious.

My brain short-circuited. Was he inviting me? Was this a thing now?

That afternoon, instead of going straight home to overthink everything, I ended up at the park near school. Golden retriever named Max—belonging to some little kid—chased a frisbee into my personal space. The dog owner, this girl with rainbow hair and a confident smile, whistled him back. "Sorry! He has zero boundaries."

"It's cool," I said, immediately regretting how uncool I sounded.

"You're in my English class," she said. "I'm Riley."

"Marcus."

"Cool name. Wanna play catch? He stole my baseball." She gestured to Max, who was indeed trotting away with a baseball like it was his prize.

We ended up talking for an hour—about everything and nothing. How much high school sucked sometimes, how we both felt like imposters in our own lives, how nobody ever really admits they're terrified of messing everything up. Riley talked about trying out for swim team, how she loved swimming because underwater nobody could see her overthinking everything.

The next day, I showed up to track practice. Jordan fist-bumped me. Riley was there too—she'd decided track and swimming could coexist. And for the first time, I didn't feel like I was playing a role or waiting for real life to start.

Maybe sophomore year wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe I didn't have to be a zombie anymore. Maybe I could just... breathe.