Green Smoothie Disaster

The pool party rager at Tyler's house was exactly where I didn't want to be. Don't get me wrong, I love hanging, but when you're the only one not getting in the water because you're still rocking the one-piece your mom bought because "it's modest," you feel different. Not cool different. Like, watching everyone else cannonball and have a blast while you're stuck on the sidelines holding a red solo cup different.

"Maya, seriously, come swimming!" Jordan called from the deep end, splashing water everywhere. He was being his usual adorable self, and I was being my usual awkward self. I mumbled something about not feeling good, which was straight-up BS.

Then Tyler's grandma cat Barnaby came strutting out like he owned the place. I'd been sneaking him bits of turkey all afternoon because I'm a sucker for animals. Clearly, I'd forgotten about the spinach artichoke dip I'd somehow gotten all over my fingers like five minutes ago.

Barnaby decided my ankle was his new scratching post, and I literally YELED. Everyone stared. Jordan stopped mid-laugh. And there I was, hopping around with spinach dip somehow smeared on my chin, trying to shake off a cat who was NOT letting go.

"Dude," Jordan said, swimming over to the edge. "You got a little..." He gestured to his own face.

I could have died. Right there. Just faded into existence. But then Jordan started cracking up. Not mean laughing—like, actually laughing. And then Tyler was laughing, and suddenly everyone was losing it, and somehow I was too.

"Okay, that was legendary," Tyler said, pulling himself out of the water. "Barnaby attacks Maya. Ten out of ten."

Jordan walked over and handed me a towel. "You good?"

"I'm great," I said, still laughing. "Just living my best life as cat bait."

"Next time," Jordan said, smiling, "you should just get in the water. Cats can't swim."

"Says who?" I shot back, and something shifted. Like, maybe I wasn't the awkward one-piece girl anymore. Maybe I was just the girl who got attacked by a cat at a pool party and lived to tell the tale. Sometimes that's enough.