Chlorine Kisses & Orange Skies

I stood at the pool's edge, clutching my stomach like it held something fragile. The water looked like liquid sky, and I wanted to dive in but my feet wouldn't move.

"You coming in or what?" Maya called, doing this effortless butterfly that made it look like she'd been born with gills. Her orange bikini bright against the blue.

"Just give me a sec," I mumbled, fidgeting with the strap of my goggles. My mom had made me take this vitamin D supplement that morning, something about deficiency and winter approaching, but honestly I think she just wanted me to get out of the house. Stop spending so much time in my room, scrolling through feeds where everyone seemed to be living their best lives while I was just... existing.

The locker room had been its own special kind of torture. Girls with bodies like sculpted clay, changing like it was nothing. Meanwhile I'd spent five minutes in a stall trying to change without anyone seeing the soft parts of me I couldn't quite accept.

"Yo, Earth to Chloe!" Maya splashed water at me. I yelped and finally jumped in.

The cold hit everything at once and for a second I couldn't breathe. Then I broke through the surface, gasping, and Maya was there grinning like I'd just told the world's greatest joke.

"That's more like it. We're doing laps. Try to keep up this time, yeah?"

She took off doing this smooth freestyle, arms cutting through water like it was made for her. I watched, my heart pounding, before pushing off the wall and trying to follow. My strokes were messy, water getting up my nose, but I kept going because Maya kept glancing back to make sure I was still there.

Afterwards, sitting on the pool deck eating orange slices from the vending machine (which somehow tasted amazing and terrible at the same time), Maya said something that made me freeze.

"You know, freshman year, I wouldn't even get in the pool without a t-shirt on."

I stared at her. Maya? Self-conscious? She who moved like water was no big deal?

"For real. I thought everyone was staring at my thighs. Turns out nobody cares because they're all too busy worrying if people are staring at theirs." She laughed, throwing an orange slice at me. "Humans are exhausting, right?"

I caught it, grinning. Something in my chest loosened.

We started walking home and I realized something: for the first time in forever, I wasn't running. From my body, from other people's eyes, from the weird feeling that I was always one step away from saying the wrong thing or wearing the wrong clothes.

The sky was turning this incredible orange-pink, like someone had spilled watercolor across the clouds. I felt suddenly, wildly hopeful. Like maybe this year wouldn't be about hiding. Maybe it would be about jumping in anyway, even when your heart's hammering and your hands shake.

"Same time tomorrow?" Maya asked at my driveway.

"Yeah," I said, and I actually meant it. "Same time."