Catfish in the Deep End

Marcus stood at the edge of the pool clutching his iPhone like a lifeline. The screen displayed Jordan's latest Instagram story—everyone at the party, everyone having the kind of summer that looked like a commercial. And here he was, finally invited, standing in swim trunks that felt somehow too loose.

"Yo Marcus! You good or what?" called Tyler from the diving board, surrounded by the kind of popular kids who moved through life like they owned the patent on breathing.

Marcus shoved his phone into his bag. His mom had insisted he take his vitamin gummies before leaving—"your immune system needs all the help it can get"—which was exactly the kind of mom thing he'd never admit to anyone. He adjusted his goggles. Everything about this situation felt wrong.

The pool water shimmered like liquid Instagram filter. Jordan waved from the shallow end, and Marcus's stomach did something complicated. He'd been working up to talking to her since January, and now here was his chance, assuming he didn't drown first.

He jumped.

The water hit him like cold reality. He surfaced, gasping, and something brushed against his leg. Something substantial. Alive. He thrashed, swallowing chlorine, heart pounding—

A HEAD broke the surface.

Not a human head.

A cat head. A soaking wet, furious orange cat that glared at him with the hatred of a thousand furries betrayed, then paddled toward the pool ladder with improbably graceful strokes.

The entire party went silent. Then someone started laughing. Then everyone was laughing, including Jordan, even Tyler, even Marcus once he surfaced again, sputtering and bewildered.

"There's a cat swimming in your pool," Marcus wheezed, and the absurdity of it hit him. This wasn't cool. This wasn't smooth. But Jordan was wading over to him, smiling like he'd just told the world's best joke.

"That's Mrs. Henderson's cat," she said. "He does this all summer. You're the only one who's actually seen him, though."

Marcus's iPhone buzzed in his bag, forgotten. Some things were more important than capturing the moment. Some moments you just had to live through, wet and ridiculous and perfect.