Dead Weight

Maya felt like a straight-up **zombie** walking into Jordan's pool party. Three hours of sleep after finals week will do that to you. Her phone buzzed in her pocket—probably her mom asking if she'd applied to that summer camp again. Spoiler: she hadn't.

"Yo, you good?" Jordan called from the **pool** edge, dripping wet. His fade was fresh, his smile easy. That's what being popular did for you—you could actually relax at your own party.

Maya forced a grin. "All good. Just vibing."

She'd been Jordan's **friend** since seventh grade, back when they were both awkward tweens bonding over Pokémon cards. But somehow Jordan had leveled up into confident popular kid while Maya was still… herself. Stuck in the awkward in-between, watching from the sidelines.

"Truth or dare!" someone shouted. Of course. The universal teen party game. Maya squeezed onto a pool chair between people she barely knew, nursing a lukewarm soda.

"Truth or dare, Maya?" Jordan's eyes sparkled with that familiar mischief. She hesitated—dare meant potential humiliation, truth meant… well, truth.

"Truth."

"What's your biggest regret?" The question landed heavier than anyone expected. Conversations quieted.

Maya's chest tightened. She could say something safe—I wish I studied more for that history test. But the words tumbled out before she could stop them: "That I'm still scared to learn how to swim."

Silence. Then Jordan snorted. "Wait, actually?"

"Yeah, actually."

"Then we're fixing that RIGHT NOW." Before she could protest, Jordan was pulling her toward the water. "Everyone who can't swim or sucks at it—IN THE POOL. Lesson time."

Three other people sheepishly raised their hands. Maya's face burned, but something shifted. Jordan wasn't mocking her—he was making space for her to not feel alone.

She spent the next hour **swimming** badly, laughing when she swallowed water, floating while Jordan explained breath control like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her arms ached, her eyes stung from chlorine, but the zombie feeling? Gone.

Later, drying off under the patio lights, Jordan flopped beside her. "You know what's messed up? I was terrified to host this. Thought nobody would show."

Maya blinked. "But you're Jordan. Everyone loves your parties."

"People think I've got it all together. Truth is, I'm just good at faking it." He nudged her shoulder. "Kinda like how you fake knowing how to swim."

She laughed. "Okay, that's fair."

"We're all just **bull**shitting our way through this, right?"

"Right."

Her phone buzzed again. This time she ignored it. Whatever came next—camp applications, high school ending, everything changing—she'd figure it out. For tonight, under string lights with pool-damp hair and chlorine-scented skin, Maya didn't feel like a zombie anymore.

She just felt alive.