Electric

I stood by the **pool** clutching my red Solo cup like it was a life preserver, while everyone else actually acted like they belonged at Tyler's party. The August humidity was already working its number on my blowout, and I'd been hiding behind the same hedge for twenty minutes.

Then Tyler's brother Marcus—everyone called him **Bull** because he'd plow through anyone on the lacrosse field—walked out of the house carrying a bowl of fruit skewers. He caught my eye. Actually froze. My heart did this full-on gymnastics routine.

"You gonna hide all night?" he asked, smirking. "Or you gonna come meet everyone properly?"

Before I could even form a sentence, Cherry bounced over in her neon bikini, grabbing a **papaya** skewer like it was a magic wand. "This exotic weirdness is actually decent!" She gestured wildly with the fruit, and the entire chunk launched off her stick—splat—right onto the pristine white shirt of some freshman trying way too hard.

The **water** in the pool rippled with laughter. I mean the actual water, from people jumping in to escape the chaos, but also the whole atmosphere just *shifted*. This wasn't the terrifying social minefield I'd built up in my head. It was just... people being awkward and ridiculous together.

Then the sky opened up—actual summer storm, zero warning. We all scrambled indoors like someone hit the panic button, everyone grabbing their phones and towels and rushing the patio doors. But Bull didn't move. He stood in the pouring rain, streaks of **lightning** painting the sky behind him, looking completely unbothered.

I don't know what came over me. Maybe it was the papaya disaster proving that embarrassment didn't actually kill you. Maybe it was just that he looked like something out of a movie, all rain-soaked confidence. I stepped back out into the downpour.

"You coming in?" he called over the thunder, grinning like he knew something I didn't.

I took a breath and walked toward him through the rain. My pink hair was wrecked, my makeup was definitely gone, and I was shaking a little—from cold, from nerves, from the absolute unreality of the moment.

"Yeah," I said, and it came out stronger than I felt. "Yeah, I'm coming."

That night didn't magically fix my social anxiety. But for the first time, I realized I didn't have to be the person I was yesterday. And sometimes, the best moments happen when you stop overthinking and just get a little wet.