Dead in the Water

My hair was absolutely wrecked. Frizz explosion. But Maya swore this pool party would be "lowkey chill" — her exact words. She didn't mention Tyler would be there. Tyler, with his stupid perfect smile and his ability to make my brain turn to mush.

"You're literally being a zombie," Maya whispered, elbowing me. "It's 85 degrees and you're wearing a hoodie. Bear mode, much?"

I glared at her. "Bear mode" was our thing — when someone was being aggressively grumpy or stubborn. But I wasn't grumpy. I was spiraling. Because the last time I went swimming, I was twelve and someone made a comment about my thighs, and now every pool is basically a trauma flashback.

Still. I was seventeen. I needed to get over myself.

I dropped the hoodie. My bathing suit was this vintage high-waisted situation I'd thrifted because I refused to be caught dead in the same bikini as everyone else. Maya wolf-whistled. "Okay, work it."

I headed toward the pool, heart hammering like I was walking into battle. Tyler was by the deep end, laughing at something. His hair was wet, slicked back, looking unfairly good. Why did wet hair look good on guys but on me it was just sad?

He caught my eye. "Hey! You made it."

My brain went full zombie mode — dead inside, vacant stare. "Uh, yeah. Hey."

"Wanna race?" he challenged, already treading water. "You versus me. Loser has to —"

"— bear walk around the entire deck," someone called.

Tyler groaned. "You're all literally obsessed with making me do animal impressions."

I laughed. I actually laughed. And then, without really deciding to, I was sliding into the water. The cool shock felt like waking up from a three-year nap. I kicked off from the wall, smooth and strong, watching Tyler's eyes widen slightly.

Okay. Maybe I could do this.

Maya was right. I'd been walking around like a zombie for months, letting fear call the shots. But hair could be fixed. Anxiety could be challenged. And maybe, just maybe, I was done being the person who watched from the sidelines.

I hit the other wall first. Tyler was still two strokes behind.

"Nice," he said, grinning as he surfaced. "Rematch?"

I smoothed back my wet hair, which was definitely a mess, and for the first time in forever, I didn't care. "You're on."