Electric Waters

Maya stood at the edge of the **pool**, clutching her towel like a lifeline. Sixteen and still terrified of water—embarrassing, honestly. The popular kids were doing their thing, forming a human **pyramid** of bronzed bodies on giant inflatables, laughing way too loud.

"You coming in or just gonna stand there looking like a wet **cat**?" Ethan teased, grinning. He'd gotten that nickname last year for always landing on his feet during social disasters.

"Shut up," Maya shot back, but she was smiling. Ethan had been her neighbor forever, and somehow he always made her feel less awkward about being awkward.

Then came Chloe—the literal **fox** of sophomore year, all confidence and calculated moves—strutting over in a bikini that cost more than Maya's entire wardrobe. "Ethan, honey, we need you for the pyramid. We're trying for eight this time."

Maya's stomach did that thing it always did when the popular circle closed ranks. She was about to mutter some excuse and retreat inside when the sky broke open.

**Lightning** split the sky, brilliant and terrifyingly close. The pool erupted in chaos—people scrambling out, phones abandoned, someone shrieking about their hair. Maya didn't move. She stood frozen, watching the water turn alive with light, each strike painting the surface in electric blues and whites.

"Maya!" Ethan's hand grabbed hers, pulling her toward the house. "What are you DOING?"

"It's beautiful," she breathed, and then realized how dumb that sounded.

But Ethan didn't laugh. He looked at the **pool**, now reflecting the storm like a mirror, then back at her. "Yeah. It actually is."

They stood on the covered porch, rain drumming the roof, watching the storm rewrite the world in flashes. For once, Maya didn't feel like the awkward girl who couldn't swim. She felt like someone seeing something real.

"Next time," Ethan said, knocking his shoulder against hers, "I'll teach you. No pressure. If you freak, I'll pull you out."

Maya looked at the **pyramid** of deflated floats abandoned in the water, at Chloe and her crew drying off in the kitchen, at the storm still painting the sky.

"Next time," she agreed.

And for the first time all summer, she wasn't counting down the minutes until she could go home.