Chasing

The pool party was exactly the kind of nightmare Maya had been avoiding all summer. Kayla's Instagram stories had been hyping it up for weeks—glitter pool floats, Bluetooth speakers bumping that same basic playlist everyone used, and way too many people from school crammed into a backyard that suddenly felt enormous and tiny at the same time.

Maya stood by the fence, clutching her phone like it was a lifeline. The water shimmered blue and perfect in the afternoon sun, and everyone was already in—except her. She'd forgotten her swimsuit. Or that's what she'd told Kayla when she RSVP'd with a shaky "maybe."

Then she heard it—a sharp yip from behind the house, followed by what sounded like something tearing through garbage cans. A golden retriever puppy came barreling around the corner, mouth full of something colorful and definitely not dog food, looking absolutely thrilled with itself.

"Wait—Buster!" someone yelled, and suddenly Chase was running after him. THE Chase. The same Chase who sat behind her in AP Bio and somehow managed to make a hoodie and sweatpants look like an actual personality. The same Chase she'd been lowkey flirting with via Spotify playlists for two months but had never actually had a real conversation with.

Buster made a beeline straight for Maya, tail going like a metronome on overdrive. She dropped to her knees instinctively, and the puppy crashed into her, practically vibrating with joy. He dropped his prize at her feet—a half-eaten bag of party streamers.

"I am SO sorry," Chase said, skidding to a stop. He was breathing hard, hair messy, cheeks flushed. "He's still working on 'basic obedience.'"

Maya laughed, surprising herself. "Honestly? He's the best thing that's happened all afternoon."

Chase's eyebrows went up. "You're not swimming?"

"Forgot my suit," she said, then immediately regretted it. It sounded so lame.

But Chase didn't even pause. "Wanna help me wrangle this tornado instead? I could use backup."

They spent the next hour chasing Buster around the backyard, somehow managing to keep him away from the pool table and rescue three more bags of decorations from his clutches. Maya's phone stayed forgotten in her pocket. She laughed harder than she had in weeks, discovered that Chase made terrible puns under pressure, and somehow ended up with his flannel tied around her waist when she got cold.

When Kayla finally got everyone together for group photos, Maya stood at the edge of the frame with Chase and Buster between them. Looking at the picture later that night—water rippling blue behind them, dog grinning like he'd won the lottery, Chase's arm casually around her shoulders—Maya realized she'd accidentally had the best time of her life.

Some nights you're just running away from things. Other nights, you run straight into them without even realizing you stopped being afraid.