Electric at the Deep End

The backyard was basically a scene straight out of a coming-of-age movie — string lights, too much hype music, and everyone from junior year crammed around the **pool** like their lives depended on it. I was hovering near the snack table, clutching a lukewarm soda like it was a lifeline, when Marcus slid up beside me.

"You look like you're about to throw yourself into the deep end," he said, cracking open his own drink. "You good, bro?"

"I'm vibing," I lied, which was definitely not giving off confident energy. "Just taking it all in."

Marcus, who'd been my best **friend** since sixth grade when we both got detention for accidentally setting off the school fire alarm, gave me that look. The one that said he knew I was overthinking everything as usual.

"You're doing it again," he said. "In your head. Just talk to them."

"Talk to who?" I said, playing dumb even though we both knew exactly who I meant.

**Lightning** flashed across the sky, illuminating the whole backyard for one split second. That's when I saw Riley — holding court on the pool's edge, laughing at something, water dripping from their hair like they'd just emerged from the ocean instead of some suburban pool. My stomach did that thing it always did when Riley was nearby, like I'd swallowed a whole swarm of butterflies.

"Oh, I see you," Marcus said, following my gaze. "Still down bad, huh?"

"Shut up, man."

"No, seriously. You've been simping for months. Just go over there."

Before I could come up with another excuse, Riley caught my eye across the pool and smiled. Actually smiled. At me. My brain short-circuited. I might have made a weird noise. I definitely almost dropped my soda.

"They're coming over," Marcus hissed. "Play it cool. Don't be weird."

"I'm always weird!"

"Okay, fair. But maybe dial it back to, like, seventy percent weird?"

Riley wove through the crowd toward us, and suddenly I was hyper-aware of everything: my awkward stance, the fact that I hadn't gotten a haircut in way too long, my completely not chill social energy. Why was teenage existence so cursed?

"Hey," Riley said, stopping in front of us. "Having fun over here by the chips?"

"Just doing some quality observation," I managed, which honestly was the smoothest thing I could've come up with given the circumstances. "You know. Scientifically analyzing the social dynamics of the modern American high school party."

Riley laughed, and it was the best sound I'd heard all night. "You're such a **fox** with the words, you know that?"

My brain stopped working. "I... what?"

"Smooth," Marcus mouthed, giving me a thumbs-up behind Riley's back.

"I mean," Riley continued, cheeks flushing pink, "you're always saying stuff that catches me off guard. In a good way."

Another crack of **lightning** split the sky, closer this time. The storm that had been threatening all evening was finally ready to break. Everyone around the pool started scattering toward the covered patio, but the three of us didn't move.

"We should probably head inside," Riley said, but they didn't move either.

"Yeah," I said. "Probably."

"Probably," Marcus echoed, then caught my eye. "I'm gonna go grab some more chips. Alone."

He left, and it was just me and Riley as rain started to fall, gentle at first, then harder. We stood there getting soaked, and nobody seemed to care about anything else. The party, the social dynamics, all the overthinking — none of it mattered in that moment. Lightning flashed again, illuminating Riley's face, and I realized I wasn't nervous anymore.

"So," Riley said, brushing wet hair from their eyes. "You wanna get out of the rain? Or...?"

"Or," I said, and I stepped closer. "We could stay here a little longer."

Riley smiled, and maybe it was the storm or the electricity in the air or just the fact that I finally stopped overthinking everything, but I knew this was exactly where I was supposed to be.