Chlorine Kisses

The invitation sat on my desk like a dare. Emma's pool party. The girl who made VSCO edits look effortless and whose hair always fell perfectly around her shoulders. I'd spent the entire week practicing my laugh in the mirror, trying to make it sound less like a hyena choking and more like someone who didn't overthink everything.

"You're going, right?" My cat, Pancake, stared at me from my bed, judging my outfit choice for the hundredth time that afternoon. I'd changed three times already—anything to avoid showing up in my one-piece that screamed 'I'm here to swim laps' instead of 'I'm here to be social.'

When I arrived, the backyard was already buzzing. Everyone clustered around the pool, their laughter mixing with the smell of coconut sunscreen and whatever expensive perfume Emma wore. I hovered near the snack table, grabbing a sparkling water I didn't even want, clutching it like a lifeline.

"Oh my god, have you tried these vitamins?" Emma appeared beside me, holding out a handful of gummies shaped like stars. "My mom's holistic phase, but they're actually so good for your skin." She was wearing a bikini that made my stomach knot with jealousy I didn't want to admit I felt.

I took one because saying no felt like admitting I wasn't cool enough to care about vitamins or skin or whatever else normal fifteen-year-olds cared about. But as I chewed, watching everyone jump into the pool with perfect form and zero hesitation, something tightened in my chest.

They all moved through the water like they'd been born in it, while I was still standing on the edge, fully clothed, holding a sparkling water I'd been nursing for twenty minutes. What was I even doing here?

"Hey." It was Maya, the quiet girl from my English class, floating near the pool's edge. She was fully clothed too, sitting on the ground with her feet in the water. "I saved you a spot."

I hesitated, then slid down beside her. The water was cool against my legs, and for the first time all night, my shoulders dropped.

"I don't really swim," Maya said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. "I just like watching everyone else pretend they're having the time of their lives."

I laughed, and this time it actually sounded real. We sat there for hours, talking about books and teachers and how neither of us understood why everyone made such a big deal about things that didn't matter. And when Emma eventually jumped out of the pool, dripping wet and perfect, shouting about group photos, Maya and I just looked at each other.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked.

We left before the flash went off, walking to the convenience store in our still-dry clothes, splitting a bag of chips and talking until the streetlights flickered on. I'd come looking for a pool party, but I'd found something better—a friend who didn't need me to be anyone but myself.