Chlorine & Code Red

I stood at the edge of the pool, clutching my phone like a lifeline. The **water** glimmered under the string lights, everyone laughing and splashing like they'd been born knowing how to be this cool. Meanwhile, I was vibrating with anxiety, stuck in that weird teenage limbo where you're too old for the kids' table but too young to actually belong anywhere.

"You coming in or what?" Tyler called from the deep end. He was objectively the most gorgeous human to exist, and I was objectively going to embarrass myself.

"Yeah, just, uh, fixing my... hair tie," I lied, smoothing my already-perfect ponytail for the fiftieth time. Smooth. Real smooth.

Earlier, my mom had tried to force-feed me some **vitamin** supplement because apparently my immune system needed backup for social situations. "You need your nutrients, Maya! You can't conquer the world on caffeine and anxiety alone!" She wasn't wrong, but she wasn't helping either.

The truth was, I'd stayed up until 3 AM scrolling through Tyler's Instagram archive (don't judge) and now I was operating on pure zombie brain. A literal **zombie** would have better social skills than me right now. At least zombies only wanted one thing—brains. I wanted Tyler to like me, which was infinitely more complicated and way less likely to happen.

"Maya!" Sarah splashed water at me. "Tyler asked you a question!"

I snapped back to reality. Tyler was treading water, grinning at me. Sun-bleached hair, DC hat, that smile that should be illegal. I forgot every English word I'd ever known.

"I said—are you gonna jump or chicken out?"

Something in my brain snapped. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation. Maybe it was the vitamin D deficiency my mom kept harping about. Maybe I was just done being the awkward background character in my own life.

I cannonballed in.

The water swallowed me whole, cold and shocking and perfect. When I surfaced, sputtering and wiping chlorine from my eyes, everyone was cheering. Even Tyler.

"Finally," he said, swimming closer. "I was beginning to think you were part vampire or something."

"Nah," I said, treading water beside him. "Just strategically saving my entrance."

He laughed, and I floated there, heart pounding, thinking maybe—just maybe—being a teenager wasn't actually the worst thing in the world. Maybe, like learning to swim, you just had to jump in and figure out how not to drown.