Chlorine Dreams

The humidity was already wrecking Maya's hair by the time she reached the community pool. She'd spent forty-five minutes perfecting the beach waves that refused to cooperate, but now they were collapsing into something resembling a frizz disaster. Typical.

"May! Over here!"

Chloe was already poolside, surrounded by the usual squad from sophomore year. They looked effortless in their matching bikinis, while Maya felt like she'd stepped into a promotional poster for a movie she hadn't auditioned for. The social dynamics of summer were exhausting.

"I brought snacks," Maya said, gesturing to her tote bag like it contained something cooler than granola bars and sunscreen.

"Perfect," Chloe said, already distracted. "Tyler's baseball team is doing laps in the lanes. They won their game today."

Of course they had. Maya's stomach did that familiar flip — the one that happened whenever certain people were nearby. She scanned the pool area until she spotted him: Tyler, emerging from the water like something out of a slow-motion sequence she'd definitely rewound in her head too many times.

His hair was plastered to his forehead, darker than usual, and he was laughing at something his friend said. A laugh that had somehow become the soundtrack to Maya's daydreams since spring semester.

"You should talk to him," Chloe whispered, appearing behind her like a plot device manifesting at the worst possible moment. "He keeps looking over here."

"He's not looking at me," Maya said, though her heart betrayed her by beating faster anyway. "He's probably looking at... the concession stand. Behind me."

"Maya." Chloe's voice dropped to that tone — the one that said they were about to have A Moment. "You've liked him since February. It's almost July. The window is closing."

Before Maya could come up with a sufficiently defensive response, Tyler was walking toward them, dripping pool water and confidence in equal measure.

"Hey," he said. "You're Maya, right? From Mr. Harrison's English class?"

Her brain short-circuited. This wasn't supposed to happen outside of her carefully rehearsed fantasies.

"Yeah," she managed, feeling her face do something unfortunate. "Hi. I mean, hey."

"I noticed your presentation on The Great Gatsby," he continued, and Maya felt the world tilt sideways. "You made some actually good points about the American Dream stuff. Most people just talked about the parties."

Chloe was making a face that definitely needed to be addressed later.

"Thanks," Maya said, finding her voice. "I liked how you connected it to... baseball? Actually? That was unexpected."

Tyler laughed, and she realized her hands were trembling in a way that had nothing to do with the June heat.

"Yeah, well." He ran a hand through his wet hair, and Maya's thoughts temporarily abandoned ship. "I was gonna ask if you wanted to get food sometime? Like, not here?"

"Yes," she said, and then, feeling the need to dial it back from absolutely desperate levels of enthusiasm, added, "I mean, sure. That could work."

"Cool." He grinned. "I'll text you."

As he walked away, Maya caught her reflection in the pool's glass door. Her hair was still doing something questionable, her swimsuit was nothing special, and she was pretty sure she had sunscreen on her chin.

But somehow, for the first time all summer, she didn't care about fixing any of it.