Hat in Hand

The community pool shimmered like liquid diamonds under the July sun, but I stayed glued to the plastic lounge chair, tugging my beanie down further. In ninety-degree heat.

"You're literally going to melt," Jamie said, plopping down beside me and cracking open a Vitaminwater. "It's swimming, not a fashion show."

I mumbled something about not wanting to get my hair wet, but we both knew that was BS. The truth was, ever since the incident last month—when I'd emerged from the water with my hair flattened to my skull like a drowned rat, prompting Tyler to loudly compare me to a "soggy kitten"—I'd been ghosting anything involving water, swimsuits, or my hair's natural state.

Which is how I found myself fully dressed at a pool party, acting like a statue.

Jamie was my oldest friend, the one person who'd witnessed my awkward phases since kindergarten. They nudged me with their elbow. "You know Tyler's not even here, right? He's at camp."

I picked at a loose thread on my shorts. "I know."

"So what's the problem?" They paused. "Wait, is this about Maya?"

My face burned hotter than the pavement. Maybe, sort of. Maya was in the water right now, floating on her back and laughing at something someone said. She looked effortless in a way I couldn't pull off on my best day, let alone when wet and chlorinated.

"I'm just not feeling it," I said, which was also BS. I was absolutely feeling it—the urge to jump in, to splash, to be normal. Instead, I was being weird.

Jamie stood up and extended a hand. "Come on. I'll go in fully dressed if that'll make you feel less self-conscious about the whole hair thing."

"You'll ruin your phone."

"It's in a Ziploc bag in my bag. Come ON."

I looked at the water, sparkling and alive. Then at Jamie's determined expression. Then at Maya, who was now waving at someone.

Something shifted. I could stay here, melting in my outfit, hiding under a hat that was doing absolutely nothing to protect me from embarrassment—or I could just... not.

I stood up, kicked off my flip-flops, and pulled off the hat. My hair sprang up in its usual unruly way. Jamie whooped like they'd won something.

"That's the energy! Now let's—you're NOT doing it."

Because I'd already shucked my shorts to reveal swim trunks underneath.

I ran toward the pool and cannonballed into the deep end, surfacing to the sound of Jamie's dramatic fake-announcer voice: "AND THEY'RE IN! THE PEOPLE'S CHAMPION!"

I wiped chlorine from my eyes. Maya was swimming over, smiling. "Took you long enough."

"Hair maintenance," I said deadpan.

"Totally convincing excuse." She splashed water at me. "Wanna race?"

Jamie jumped in beside me, sending a wave of water everywhere. "Oh, it's ON."

For the first time all summer, I forgot about my hair. I was just swimming, racing, and feeling something I hadn't felt in months—like myself, only wetter and significantly happier.