Chlorine Dreams and Vitamin C

Maya stood at the edge of the pool, clutching her towel like it was armor. The water glowed that artificial blue that only exists in suburban backyards and Instagram filters. Someone's phone blasted a Doja Cat song from the patio speakers, and somewhere nearby, a baseball game crackled through a radio—third inning, probably.

"You coming in or what?" Leo called from the water. Baseball Leo, who'd hit the winning run last week and somehow made varsity as a sophomore. His hair was wet, plastered to his forehead, and he was grinning like he knew exactly how much Maya's heart was doing gymnastics.

"Yeah, just," Maya gestured vaguely, "giving the sun a minute. You know. Vitamin D situation."

God, she was so awkward. It was the vitamins, honestly—her mom had started her on these gummy multivitamins that were supposedly "formulated for teenage brain development," which mostly meant they tasted like expired artificial grape and gave her weird jitters.

The real problem wasn't the vitamins or the sun or even Leo's stupid perfect smile. The real problem was that Maya couldn't actually swim. Not properly. She could doggy-paddle with the dignity of a determined corgi, but actual swimming? That was a whole thing.

Meanwhile, everyone else was doing laps and having splash fights and generally living their best influencer lives.

"Maya!" Leo swam over, treading water at the edge. "We're doing teams. Chicken fight tournament. You and me?"

Her brain short-circuited. Teams. Physical contact. Leo's shoulders. This was either the best or worst moment of her life.

"I," she started, then heard herself say, "actually don't have a suit that fits right."

A lie. Her swimsuit was fine.

But Leo just shrugged, water sluicing down his arms. "No worries. You can referee. Keep it fair. We all know I'd crush anyway."

He winked. Actually winked.

Maya sat cross-legged by the pool, clutching her vitamin bottle in her pocket, watching Leo launch someone off his shoulders in a spray of chlorinated glory. The baseball game on the radio faded as someone changed the song to something with more bass.

She'd learn to swim. She would. But first, she was going to memorize exactly how Leo looked when he laughed, water dripping from his eyelashes like something out of a coming-of-age movie she'd absolutely cry over later.

Summer was just getting started, after all.