Fox in the Chlorine

The pool party at Jenna's house was supposed to be the social event of the summer, but I was stuck doing what I did best: lurking on the sidelines with my phone, basically spy-ing on everyone else having actual lives. The water shimmered like liquid diamonds, but I wasn't getting in. Not with these people watching.

That's when I noticed Fox — real name Marcus, but everyone called him that because he could talk his way out of anything — standing by the deep end, looking uncharacteristically nervous. He kept glancing at Tyler, the grade's resident bully who'd been making everyone's life miserable since seventh grade. Tyler was currently holding court with the popular crew, bragging about something that sounded like complete bull.

I watched Fox take a deep breath, then another, like he was preparing himself. Something about his expression — this mix of fear and determination — hit me right in the chest. He was going to do it. Whatever "it" was.

Fox walked right up to Tyler's group. I couldn't hear what he said, but I saw Tyler's face go red, then purple. The whole pool area went silent. Then Fox just stripped down to his swim trunks and cannonballed into the water, sending a massive wave over the edge.

"Anyone else coming in?" he called out, treading water. "The water's fine, and Tyler's full of it about his uncle owning a yacht!"

Someone snorted. Then another person laughed. Tyler sputtered something about how Fox was dead meat tomorrow, but nobody was buying it anymore. The spell was broken.

One by one, people started jumping in. Even me. And somewhere between the shock of cold water and Fox grinning like he'd just won the lottery, I realized something: we'd all been so scared of the Tyler's of the world, we forgot that the only reason they had power was because we gave it to them.

Fox swam over to me. "Nice cannonball," I said. "You're insane."

"Nah," he said, flicking water at me. "Just tired of pretending. You should try it sometime."

I laughed, actually laughed. Maybe I would. But first, I had something more important to do.

"Race you to the other side," I said.

"You're on."

And just like that, I wasn't spying on life anymore. I was finally swimming in it.