Electric Summer Nights

The pool party at Tyler's house was supposed to be legendary. His parents were out of town, the playlist was bumping, and somehow I'd actually been invited. Me, the quiet sophomore who sat in the back of calculus. Total social mobility upgrade, right?

I stood by the deep end in my too-long board shorts, clutching a red solo cup like it was a lifeline. Everyone was forming a human pyramid in the shallow end—three tiers of sun-kissed, popular kids laughing and shoving each other. Kayla was at the top, her hair streaming wet, commanding the whole scene like she was born to it.

"Hey! New guy! Get up here!" Tyler shouted, pointing at me. My stomach dropped.

"I'm good," I mumbled, feeling my face burn.

The joke was that lightning actually flashed across the sky right then. Not dramatic movie lightning—the real kind that splits the sky and makes everyone go dead silent for exactly three seconds before someone makes a terrible joke about "the gods being angry" or whatever.

Then thunder cracked so hard the deck shook.

"SCATTER!" someone screamed, and the pyramid collapsed in a chaotic splash of limbs and laughter. People scrambled toward the covered patio, towels flying, phones clutched to chests.

I stayed in the pool. I don't know why. Maybe I was already soaked, maybe it felt like something I was allowed to claim as mine.

Then Kayla slid back into the water, hair plastering her face like dark curtains. She grinned at me, wiping her eyes.

"You're still here. Bold move."

"Just enjoying the personal space," I said, surprised at how normal my voice sounded.

"The pool's better when it's not a mosh pit anyway," she said, floating on her back. Lightning flashed again, turning the water silver for a split second. "Hey, what's your name again?"

"Marcus."

"Well, Marcus," she said, splashing water toward me, "want to see who can hold their breath the longest until this storm passes?"

We stayed in that pool for twenty minutes while everyone else TikToked from the patio. I didn't become popular or anything. But the next day at school, when Kayla stopped at my locker to borrow a pencil, the entire sophomore hallway noticed.

Sometimes lightning does strike twice.