Chlorine and Courage
Maya stood at the edge of the **pool**, clutching her phone like a lifeline. The end-of-summer bash raged around her—kids cannonballing, music thumping, Tyler Davidson laughing with his friends by the diving board. She'd been crushing on him since seventh period English, but apparently her tongue had other plans.
"You coming in?" yelled Jen, Maya's ride-or-die, paddling lazily. "Or are you gonna just stand there looking like you're mentally calculating your **vitamin** D intake?"
Maya flipped her off. So what if she'd researched sunscreen SPF levels extensively? A girl's gotta protect her skin.
Then she saw it—Tyler's Golden Retriever, Buster, bounding toward the patio table where some genius had left a prize bag from earlier. Inside? A plastic bag containing a poor, confused **goldfish** in a tiny bowl.
"Buster, NO!" Tyler yelled, but the **dog** was already mid-leap, tail wagging like this was the best moment of his entire life.
Time moved weirdly. Maya didn't think. She just—launched herself. Between the dog and the table, she executed the most graceful save of her life, snatching the goldfish bag mid-air and landing in a spectacular crouch. Water splashed everywhere. Everyone stared.
"Did you just... save my fish?" Tyler asked, grinning.
Maya's face burned. She felt like she could **bear** the weight of approximately three thousand cringey moments happening simultaneously.
"Uh," she said. "Fish defense is my cardio."
Jen nearly drowned laughing. Tyler's friends were low-key impressed. And Tyler—ridiculously cute, totally-out-of-her-league Tyler—was looking at her like she'd just done something legendary instead of extremely weird.
"That was actually awesome," he said, scooping up Buster. "Wanna help me find him a better bowl? I'm pretty sure that one's from a carnival."
Maya glanced at Jen, who was vibrating with excitement. Sometimes the universe gives you plot armor.
"Sure," Maya said, standing up with actual confidence. "But we're fixing your sunscreen game too. That SPF 15 ain't it."