Chloride Crush

The **water** in the Carmelo's pool looked fake. Like, Instagram-filter fake. Electric blue under the string lights, rippling around bodies that were definitely way more comfortable than mine.

"You coming in or what?" Maya yelled from the deep end. She was treading **water**, her hair slicked back, that orange bikini top glowing against the blue. Maya, who'd moved here from Seattle three months ago and already collected friends like Pokémon cards.

"Yeah, just gotta..." I gestured vaguely at my phone. So convincing. Wow.

The truth: I hadn't brought a swimsuit. Because showing up to the party of the year wearing trunks I'd had since eighth grade wasn't exactly the vibe. Also, I couldn't actually remember the last time I'd gone **swimming**. Not since my dad dragged me to the Y, back when he was still trying to fix whatever was broken between us with "bonding activities."

"Earth to Leo?"

I looked up. Maya was now leaning against the pool edge, droplets racing down her arms. Close up, I could see the freckles across her nose.

"Sorry," I said. "Zoned out."

"Happens." She hauled herself up and sat on the concrete, legs dangling in the water. "So, party's kinda mid, right?"

I laughed. "I mean, the nachos are decent."

"The nachos are a religious experience." She grabbed a handful from the bowl between us. "Seriously though, you're just... what? Sitting here being mysterious and brooding? Because that's very on brand."

"I forgot my suit," I admitted, feeling my face heat up. "And I didn't want to be that guy swimming in cargo shorts."

Maya studied me for a second. Then she grinned.

"Okay, first of all, cargo shorts would've been iconic. Second—" She fished in her bag and produced a dusty glass bottle. "Want some?"

"What is it?"

"Orange soda. But like, the fancy kind my mom insists on. Apparently it's got actual **vitamin** C or whatever, which makes it practically a health food?"

I took it. The glass was cool against my palm.

"Your mom sounds..."

"A lot? She's a lot. She's got me taking these supplements now because I 'don't get enough sun.' I'm literally at the pool every weekend, but okay."

I sipped the soda. Sweet, fizzy, with actual orange pulp swirling in it.

"It's actually pretty good."

"Right? Anyway." She bumped my shoulder with hers. "You don't have to swim to hang out. Like, you can just exist here without performing. You know?"

And somehow, that made it easier. The next hour was Maya showing me TikToks, both of us making fun of the people playing beer pong in the shallow end, her explaining why her geography teacher was definitely a cryptid, me admitting I'd never seen The Office.

When her ride showed up, she stood and shook out her wet hair.

"Same time next week?"

"I'll bring a suit," I promised.

"Good. But maybe keep the cargo shorts. For variety." She winked. "Later, Leo."

I watched her walk away, orange bikini bright against the darkness, and finished the soda. It was warm now. Still pretty good though.