Electric at the Pool Party

The orange traffic cone sat by the pool edge, a sad reminder that Maya's perfect semester plan had involved actual lifeguard certification, not just a fake whistle from Party City. Now she was stuck monitoring the shallow end while Jake—the Jake who'd finally noticed her existence in AP Bio—was doing cannonballs off the diving board.

Maya's sister's golden retriever, Buster, had escaped the backyard and was now paddling furiously toward Jake like a yellow furry torpedo. The dog's mission was clear: steal the red Solo cup floating near Jake's head.

"Buster, no!" Maya yelled, scrambling up from her lounge chair. But it was too late. The dog launched himself at Jake, sending soda flying everywhere.

Jake wiped his face, laughing. "Is this your dog?"

"Sadly, yes." Maya felt her face burning hotter than the concrete under her bare feet. "He's usually not this... intense."

"Dude, your dog just annihilated my Mountain Dew." Jake grinned, shaking orange droplets from his hair. "Ten out of ten for chaos."

Then it happened—actual lightning cracked across the sky, purple veins branching through gray clouds like something from a dream. Everyone froze. The pool surface shimmered with reflected light.

"Pool's closed!" someone shouted, but Jake didn't move. He was looking at Maya.

"Want to get out of here?" he asked, like it was the most normal question ever. "My car's right there. We could grab food or whatever."

Maya's heart did that thing where it forgot how to rhythm properly. She nodded, grabbing her towel while Buster shook himself vigorously, spraying water everywhere.

"Nice dog," Jake said, opening his car door. "Best wingman ever."

Maya slid into the passenger seat, dripping chlorinated water onto his upholstery, not caring that her phone was probably dead in her bag or that her sister would kill her for losing Buster. None of it mattered. Because Jake Anderson had just asked to hang out. And the electricity inside her chest had nothing to do with the storm.