Chlorine & Courage

The gummy vitamins sat on my nightstand like a promise I couldn't keep to myself. "Social Vitamin C: Confidence in Every Chew," the label read, though the C stood for something faker. My brother Jordan had left them when he moved out — his joke about how I needed to supplement my personality before junior year.

"You ready?" Maya leaned against my doorframe, already in her swimsuit. She'd talked me into this pool party like she talked me into everything — by refusing to accept my no as an actual answer.

"What if I just... stay here and become one with my bed forever?"

"Sam." Maya stepped into my room and picked up the vitamin bottle. "These expired two years ago. Just like that whole 'I'm awkward' narrative you're still running."

"Maya, you don't get it. Everyone at Sierra's pool is gonna be —"

"People. In swimsuits. Being awkward teenagers together."

We walked to Sierra's house in uncomfortable silence, the August heat sticking my shirt to my back. My heart did that thing where it forgot how to rhythm properly, like it was practicing for a panic attack.

Sierra's backyard was exactly what I dreaded:Instagram come to life. Perfect people everywhere. The pool glittered like something from a magazine, and I immediately felt like the typo someone forgot to edit out.

Then I saw him.

Leaning against the pool fence, laughing at something that wasn't even funny, looking like every summer movie protagonist ever. Caleb. Who I'd had a crush on since seventh grade health class, when he'd paired with me during the nutrition unit and said, "Dude, vitamins are literally just expensive pee."

Before I could fully process my spiral, Maya whispered, "Watch this," and SHOVED me toward the snack table.

I stumbled. I swear time literally stopped. And then I was falling toward the chip bowl, arms windmilling like I was trying to fly —

— and someone caught me.

"Woah, nice save." Caleb's hands steadied my shoulders. His eyes were that annoyingly perfect shade of hazel. "You good?"

"I'm — yeah. Just. Gravity's being aggressive today."

He laughed. Not mean-laughed. Actual laughed. "For real. Happens to the best of us."

We talked for twenty minutes about nothing — about his baby sister throwing his phone in the actual pool last week, about how I couldn't swim without getting water up my nose, about how neither of us understood why people liked sparkling water. He asked if I wanted to play pool volleyball. I said yes, even though I am objectively terrible at volleyball.

Later, as we walked home under streetlights, Maya caught my arm. "So?"

"So... you pushed me."

"And?"

"And I'm alive. And he might have asked for my number."

Maya fist-pumped the air. "See? No fake vitamins needed. You just needed someone to push you into the deep end."

"Literally."

"Metaphorically."

I glanced back at Sierra's house one last time, where perfect people still laughed and splash-fought and existed like being sixteen wasn't the weirdest thing ever. I'd survived. Maybe even thrived.

And Jordan's gummy vitamins were still on my nightstand where they belonged.

Some things you can't supplement. You just have to grow into them.