Electric Pool Nights

The summer before junior year, I landed the worst job imaginable: lifeguard at the Glenview Pool, where I spent eight hours a day watching kids do cannonballs and elderly ladies do water aerobics to 80s pop music. My crush on Maya, who worked the concession stand, was the only vitamin D supplement keeping me from total despair.

"You look like you're dying out there," Maya said, sliding a grape Gatorade across the counter. Her hair was always in this perfect messy bun, and I had approximately zero chill around her.

"Just soaking up the atmosphere," I managed, my palms sweating so much I nearly dropped the bottle. Smooth.

The real disaster happened during the July 4th party. The pool was packed, someone's older brother brought a suspicious cooler, and I was stuck in the chair mentally rehearsing how to not be awkward around Maya. Then the weather app on my phone proved itself useful for the first time ever—severe thunderstorm warning.

"Everyone out NOW!" I yelled, diving off the stand. The sky had turned this insane purple-green color, like nothing I'd ever seen.

Maya was already herding the little kids toward the bathhouse when the first lightning bolt hit—CRACK, right over the parking lot. The whole pool deck went white, then everything went dark. Power outage. Total chaos.

"My phone!" someone screamed.

I found Maya under the picnic shelter, soaked and shaking with laughter. "That was WILD," she said. "Did you see that lightning? It literally hit the transformer."

"Yeah, I saw." I was hyperaware that we were alone in the dark, thunder rumbling overhead, her shoulder against mine. "So... this is awkward."

"What's awkward?" She was smiling now, and I realized she'd moved closer.

"Everything?" I gestured vaguely. "This job. This summer. Me trying to talk to you without being weird."

Maya laughed, and then—dead serious—she said, "You're not weird. You're my favorite person here." She took my hand, her palm warm against mine. "I've been waiting for you to say something all summer."

The rain came down in sheets while we sat there, the storm raging around us, everything suddenly, perfectly clear. Some moments hit you like lightning—fast, bright, and absolutely impossible to prepare for.