Goldfish in the Deep End

The plastic flamingo wobble-chair wasn't exactly built for a fifteen-year-old guy, but here I was, clinging to it like my life depended on it. Maya's pool party raged around me—splash fights, laughter, that one kid whose name I kept forgetting cannonballing off the diving board again and again. I stuck to the shallow end like a determined goldfish, my baseball cap pulled low even though it was getting soaked.

"You coming in deep or what?" Tyler hollered from the other end of the pool. He'd somehow already collected an audience of three girls who were giggling at everything he said. Because that's how Tyler worked.

"Maybe later," I called back, which was code for never.

My phone pinged from the patio table.probably my mom asking if I was having fun. As if.

Then Maya swam over, slicing through the water with this effortless grace that made my heart do actual gymnastics. She flipped onto her back, floating nearby with her eyes closed.

"You know," she said without opening her eyes, "you've been hiding in the shallow end for two hours. The deep end's not gonna eat you."

"I'm good here."

She cracked one eye open. "You sure? Because you look like you're plotting something complicated in that baseball hat of yours."

"It's not a baseball hat. It's—"

"It's a dad hat, Leo. We all know."

I groaned, and she laughed, this bright sound that cut through all the party noise.

"Okay, truth time." She paddled closer. "You scared you'll sink?"

"No."

"Because I can teach you. Or, like, not make fun of you while you figure it out. That's a promise."

"I know how to swim," I protested. "I'm just... strategically positioned."

"Strategically positioned to miss out on everything." She held out her hand, palm up. Water dripped from her wrist. "Come on. I'll race you to the other side. You can even have a head start."

Every instinct screamed to stay in my safe little goldfish pond of shallow water. But then she smiled, all crooked and knowing, like she saw right through my entire act.

"You're going down," I said, pushing off the flamingo.

"In your dreams, slowpoke."

I didn't win. Maya definitely didn't let me win either. But somewhere between the middle of the pool and the other side, I stopped caring about looking cool and started actually having fun. Later, when Tyler made some comment about me finally joining the deep end, I just shrugged.

Some things are worth looking uncool for.