Fox in the Pool House

I wasn't supposed to be at Tyler's party. But here I was, standing by the **pool** in my Target swimsuit while half the junior class formed a human **pyramid** in the deep end. Tyler's parents were out of town, obviously, and someone had boosted the Bluetooth speakers until the bass vibrated in my chest.

My cat, Mittens, had escaped through my bedroom window earlier that day—my mom would literally kill me if she found out—and I'd spent three hours chasing the little menace through the neighborhood before giving up and accepting my fate. I figured the party would distract me from impending doom.

"Yo, Maya!" Tyler called from the pool ladder. He was shirtless, which was unfair, honestly. "Get in here!"

"I'm good," I said, even though my palms were sweating. I'd liked Tyler since seventh grade, when he let me copy his math homework after I forgot mine at home. Not exactly a romantic origin story, but here we were.

Then I saw it—a flash of orange near the back fence. A **fox**, sleek and wild, tail twitching as it watched the chaos like it was evaluating us for a nature documentary. It was beautiful and weird and totally unexpected, kind of like how I felt about everything these days.

I grabbed my phone, desperate for a photo that would at least get me some Instagram clout to balance out the social anxiety of being the only person not swimming, and tripped over the **cable** snaking across the patio. The outdoor speaker cable yanked loose, and the music cut with an audible pop.

Everyone stared. My face burned hotter than the sun beating down on the concrete.

"Sick," someone said, and I couldn't tell if they were being sarcastic.

But then Mittens came trotting out from under the deck where she'd apparently been hiding the whole time, and the fox's ears perked up. For a second they just looked at each other—this house cat and this wild thing—like they recognized something in each other. Then the fox turned and vanished into the woods, and my cat followed it like she'd finally found something worth chasing.

"Did your cat just..." Tyler started, wet hair dripping onto his shoulders.

"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, she did."

He laughed, and it was this genuine sound that made something loosen in my chest. "That's actually the coolest thing that's happened all night."

Maybe the party wasn't a disaster. Maybe neither was I.