Foxes and First Times

The July heat wave made everything sticky, especially my social anxiety. I stood by the chip bowl at Tyler's pool party, watching **baseball** caps floating in the water and wondering why I'd come. Then I saw her.

Maya. The girl who'd been in my homeroom since seventh grade but felt like a stranger. Today, though, she wasn't the quiet mouse in the back row. She was radiant in a orange bikini that made me think of a **fox**—all clever eyes and quick smiles, dancing at the edge of the pool, flirting with danger.

"Hey, Leo!" Tyler shouted, pushing me toward the deep end. "You **swimming** or just standing there looking pretty?" Tyler—aka **the Bull** for his stubborn streak and tendency to charge into situations without thinking. Everyone laughed, including Maya, and I felt my face burn.

"I'm good," I mumbled, but Maya splashed water at me.

"Don't be boring, Leo! The water's perfect!" She did a cannonball, droplets flying everywhere like liquid confetti.

I waded in slowly, trying to look casual while my heart hammered against my ribs. We ended up in the shallow end, talking about everything and nothing—teachers we hated, bands we loved, how Tyler's parties were always chaos.

Then her phone buzzed. She groaned. "My **cat** escaped again. Mochi's probably terrified somewhere."

"Want help finding him?" I heard myself say before I could overthink it.

Her eyebrows shot up. "Really? You'd do that?"

"Yeah," I shrugged, trying to match her cool. "Better than drowning in Tyler's pool."

We spent the next hour searching the neighborhood, me trying not to stare at how the sunset made her hair glow like copper wire, me trying to seem brave while checking dark bushes and calling "Mochi? Mochi?" in my most coaxing voice.

We found the cat under a neighbor's porch, scared but unharmed. Maya scooped him up, holding him against her chest, and something in my chest did a weird little flip.

"You're awesome, Leo," she said, and for the first time, I believed it. "Thanks."

"Anytime," I said, and meant it.

We walked back to the party, shoulders brushing occasionally, neither of us pulling away. Tyler was still being the bull, charging around the pool with a water gun, but I didn't care. I was walking next to a fox, and for the first time, I didn't feel like prey.

Maybe this summer wouldn't be so bad after all.