Diving In

The neon trucker hat pulled low over my eyes was basically my emotional support animal. Which was pathetic, considering we were at Jessica's end-of-summer pool party and I was seventeen years old.

"You good, Maya?" Marcus asked, sliding up beside me. He'd somehow lost his shirt in the first ten minutes, because confidence was apparently something you could just... have.

"Totally," I lied, fidgeting with the vitamin gummies in my pocket. My mom had packed them like I was going to summer camp instead of a literal pool party. "Just... soaking in the atmosphere."

The pool sparkled with that perfect summer afternoon glow, practically screaming JUMP IN ME. But the pool also held my greatest shame: I still couldn't really swim. Like, at all. Sink-like-a-rock levels of bad.

"Your friend keeps looking over here," Marcus said, nudging me with that irritatingly perfect grin.

I followed his gaze. Sam. My best friend since third grade, who'd spent the last two months distancing herself because apparently I was "cramping her style" whatever that meant when you're both awkward theater kids.

"She's not my friend anymore," I muttered. "Not since she joined the Instagram aesthetic clique."

Marcus snorted. "Drama. Classic."

Then I saw it—Sam's childhood stuffed bear, that ratty old thing she'd carried everywhere until seventh grade, sitting on a pool chair like a prisoner of war. Someone must brought it as a joke. The humiliation factor was astronomical.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I marched over, grabbed the bear, and booked it toward the deep end.

"Maya, what are you DOING?" Sam screamed, but she was laughing.

"Liberating Mr. Waddles," I yelled back, and then I jumped.

The water swallowed me whole. For three terrifying seconds, I was completely underwater, lungs burning, world muffled and blue. Then strong arms hauled me up—Marcus, grinning like he'd just won the lottery.

"You can't swim, can you?" he asked, dunking me playfully.

"Not even a little," I admitted, splashing him back.

Sam jumped in next to us, grabbing her bear. "You're such an idiot," she said, but her eyes were soft. "I've missed this."

"Me too," I said, hat floating somewhere behind me. "Me too."

Sometimes you have to jump into the deep end to find what you're looking for. Even if you sink a little first.