Chlorine & Sphinxes

My mom made me take a vitamin D gummy before she dropped me off at Jasmine's pool party. "You're pale as a ghost, Leo," she'd said, which wasn't exactly the confidence booster I needed before facing half the sophomore class in swim trunks.

The backyard was already chaos when I arrived. Someone had brought a giant inflatable sphinx—like, full-on Egyptian deity—with this vacant expression and wonky eyes. It floated near the deep end like it was judging everyone's dive technique.

"Leo! Finally!" Maya materialized beside me, holding an orange crush. Her swimsuit was the same color, which made zero sense because wouldn't you NOT want to wear something that looks like what you're drinking if you spill? Whatever. Maya pulled off things I couldn't.

"I've been bearing witness to this for twenty minutes," she lowered her voice, nodding toward the pool where Jason—the Jason—was currently doing laps. His form was terrible. His form was also irrelevant because his shoulders existed. "He's been swimming back and forth. I think he's training for something. Or maybe he just really likes water."

"Or he's avoiding people," I suggested. Jason Chen, conversing with regular humans? Unlikely.

The sphinx drifted closer to the shallow end, where a bunch of freshmen were daring each other to climb on top. This was going to end in disaster and possibly emergency room visits.

"You should go talk to him," Maya said, like it was that simple. Like my stomach wasn't currently staging a protest against existing.

"I'm good. I'm gonna stand here and—"

"And what? Be mysterious?" She snorted. "You're not a sphinx, Leo. You're just a guy who needs to get in the pool."

She shoved me. Not hard, but enough.

I stumbled forward, nearly tripped over someone's discarded towel, and ended up chest-deep in the cool blue water. Jason stopped swimming mid-stroke, treading water near me.

"Hey," he said. Water dripped from his hair. "You gonna race, or what?"

"Race?"

"Yeah. Unless you're scared of losing to someone with terrible form."

I looked back at Maya, who was failing spectacularly at pretending she wasn't watching. Behind her, three freshmen had successfully conquered the sphinx and were now being yelled at by Jasmine's mom.

"You're on," I said.

Somewhere between my mom's vitamin gummy and the inflatable sphinx watching from the shallow end, I'd forgotten that sometimes you just have to dive in. Even if your form sucks. Even if you lose.

At least Maya had video evidence of the freshmen getting scolded. Small wins.