Chasing Fox at the Pool Party

Maya's palms were literally sweating. Like, actual drops. She wiped them on her towel again, staring at the pool where Jayden—everyone called him Fox because the guy was impossible to pin down—was doing a cannonball off the diving board.

"You gonna swim or just accessorize with that towel?" Chloe asked, smirking. Chloe was effortless in a bikini that cost more than Maya's entire wardrobe. Maya's one-piece was fine. It was functional. It was not, however, what you wore to make a statement.

"I'm thinking about it," Maya lied. She wasn't thinking about it. She was thinking about how Fox had noticed her new haircut yesterday in math class, said "Hey, looks good," and now she was spiraling.

Swimming used to be easy before eighth grade. Before bodies became public commentary topics. Before every reflected surface was an invitation to critique yourself.

Fox climbed out of the pool, water streaming off him like he was in a movie. He shook his hair like a dog. Everyone laughed. Everything was a performance with him and the audience ate it up every time.

Then he was walking toward her. Maya's brain short-circuited. She should say something cool. She should—

"You hiding?" Fox asked, dripping pool water onto her towel.

"No? Yes? Maybe?" Words were hard.

He sat beside her, not close enough to be weird but close enough that she could smell chlorine and whatever cologne he'd applied this morning. "Parties aren't really my thing either. I mostly come for the snacks."

"You were literally in there for an hour."

"Builds an appetite." He grinned. That fox grin. The one that got him in trouble with teachers but made everyone forgive him two seconds later.

Maya's heart was doing something concerning. "Whatever."

"You gonna swim?" he asked again, but not mean. Just curious.

"Maybe later."

"Cool." He held out his hand. "You wanna play 20 Questions instead? I bet I can guess your middle name in five tries."

Maya stared at his palm. He was waiting. Not rushing. Just waiting.

She took his hand—his fingers were still cold from the pool—and let him pull her up.

"Three tries," she said. "And if you lose, you have to jump in wearing your shoes."

Fox's eyes lit up. "You're on."