Diving In

My hair was perfect. Three hours with the flat iron, texting Maya the whole time about whether Jordan would notice, and now I was standing at the edge of the pool party like a total fraud.

Everyone was already swimming. Jordan too, looking like some kind of athlete in the water, laughing at something Chloe said. My best friend since forever, now giving me those eyes from across the pool that screamed GET IN HERE.

"You coming in or what?" Maya asked, appearing beside me with two sodas. "You've been standing here calculating your hair's survival rate for twenty minutes. It's giving anxiety."

I laughed despite myself. Maya knew everything — including that I'd skipped swim class three weeks straight because I didn't want anyone to see the jagged scar on my back from surgery last year. The one I never talked about. The one that made me feel like damaged goods in a swimsuit.

"You first," I said.

"Already went in twice." She grinned. "Your turn. Unless you're scared."

"I'm not—"

"Then prove it." Maya grabbed my hand, pressed her palm against mine. "We go in together. Right now. Before Jordan gets out and you miss your chance to make actual conversation instead of just staring from the edge like a creep."

"Wow, thanks for that."

"I'm here to help." She started pulling me toward the water. "Swimming is literally the point of a pool party. You're overthinking this. Nobody cares about your hair or your back or whatever you're stressing about. They care that you're present."

The water was cold at first, shocking in the best way. My hair got wet. The carefully styled curls fell apart. And when I came up sputtering, Maya was already there, grinning like crazy.

"See? You lived."

Jordan waved from the other side. "Finally! Come play chicken!"

I looked at Maya, at my ruined hair and pruney hands, and felt something loosen in my chest. This wasn't so scary.

"Race you there," I said.

And I swam.