Bull, Cat, Deep End

The text from Jordan read: *pool party Saturday. everyone's going. you coming?*

Maya stared at her phone, stomach twisting. Swimming. In public. In a bikini. The mere thought made her want to disappear.

She'd successfully avoided pool parties all freshman year. But now? Summer before sophomore year, and Jordan—the cute Jordan from AP Bio—was finally noticing her. She couldn't say no.

"You're being dramatic," her best friend Riley said, scrolling through her phone. "It's just water."

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one who nearly drowned at summer camp in fifth grade."

"That was literally eleven years ago."

"Feels like yesterday."

That night, Maya's mom dropped a bomb: "Your cousin Brayden is staying with us for two weeks."

Brayden. The cousin who'd gone full country since moving to Texas. The one who wore boots to Thanksgiving.

When he arrived, he was worse than expected. He spent dinner talking about bulls and rodeo and something called "mutton busting" while Maya's parents nodded politely.

"So, Maya," he said, leaning back. "Heard you're scared of water."

"Not scared. Just not a fan."

"That's bull." He grinned. "I can teach you."

"You?"

"Used to be a lifeguard. Before I discovered my true calling as a cowboy."

Maya laughed despite herself. But as Saturday approached, her anxiety was swimming laps in her stomach. The catfish situation didn't help—she'd been talking to this guy online for weeks, and he kept dodging video calls. Part of her knew he was probably catfishing, but she needed the validation.

Brayden dragged her to the community pool every morning that week. "You're overthinking," he'd say, as she stood frozen at the edge. "Just jump. The longer you wait, the worse it gets."

By Friday, she could sort of swim. Sort of.

Saturday came. The party was at Tyler's house—his parents were loaded, obviously. The pool was huge, surrounded by lounging teenagers in various states of Instagram-perfect.

Jordan waved when he saw her. "You made it!"

"Yeah." Maya clutched her towel. "Here I am."

Then it happened—someone pushed her. Not hard, but enough.

She fell in.

The water rushed over her head. Everything went muffled and blue. Panic seized her chest. But then Brayden's voice echoed in her head: *You're overthinking. Just swim.*

She kicked. Her head broke the surface. She gasped, then—she was doing it. She was actually swimming.

Jordan was there when she reached the edge. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Maya wiped water from her eyes. "Actually, yeah."

Later, dripping wet on a lounge chair, she blocked the catfish guy. She didn't need his validation anymore.

"Not so bad, right?" Brayden had texted earlier.

Maya looked at Jordan, who was laughing at something Tyler said. Looked at her hands, wrinkled from water. Looked at the way the sun hit the pool surface.

Not so bad at all.