Duckweed and Deep Ends

Maya's dad handed her the last life **hat** from the garage—neon orange with a ridiculous brim. "You'll thank me," he said, already regretting agreeing to let her tag along to the lake with Jake's crew.

Her **iPhone** buzzed in her pocket. Jake: *"u coming? we're waiting"*

She grabbed a charging **cable** on impulse. What if her phone died? What if she couldn't escape into her playlist when things got awkward? What if she needed an excuse to leave?

The air already smelled like sunscreen and impending embarrassment.

When they got there, Jake was shirtless on the dock, surrounded by people who seemed to know exactly how to exist. Maya sat on a bench, scrolling, pretending to be absorbed in something that wasn't her own thundering heart.

"Yo, maya's gonna roast in that **hat**," someone called. It was friendly teasing, but it landed.

She tugged the brim lower.

"She's just camera shy," Jake said, and for a second she thought he was defending her, but then—"probably doesn't want evidence of her legendary **bull**-shitting ways."

Everyone laughed. Maya laughed too, because that was the thing you did.

"Who's jumping?" Jake stood at the edge of the dock.

Maya couldn't swim. Not really. Not in deep **water**, where the bottom dropped away and everything went quiet and wrong.

She'd never told anyone. It was one thing to be the quiet girl who always had headphones and another to be the girl who couldn't do something every six-year-old could do.

"Maya?" Jake was looking at her. Not expectantly, but like he actually wanted her there.

Her phone was at 12%. She'd forgotten the cable on the bench.

"Just coming," she said, and stood up, and walked toward the edge of the dock like her legs weren't shaking at all.

The **water** was dark and deep and terrifying. But Jake's hand was extended, and his smile was small and genuine, and maybe that was enough.

She jumped.

Later, wet and shivering and somehow still alive, she found her **hat** floating near the reeds and put it back on. Someone had thrown her the charging cable onto the dock. Her **iPhone** was ruined, honestly, but she didn't care.

"You're insane," Jake said, and he sounded almost impressed.

"I know," Maya said.

She was wrong about a lot of things. But maybe not this.