Lake Water Blues

I stood at the edge of the dock, toes curled around the rough wood, while everyone else jumped into the lake like it was nbd. My best friend Kai gave me that look—the one that said I was being dramatic again.

"You coming?" Jordan yelled from the water, dripping wet, hair plastered to his forehead like some model from a TikTok thirst trap. My stomach did that stupid flippy thing it always did when he looked at me.

I gulped. The summer camp brochure had promised "confidence-building activities" but failed to mention how much I'd stress about my hair. I'd spent forty-five minutes this morning curling it, and now Jordan expected me to ruin it for some stupid swimming relay?

"I think I forgot my vitamin!" I lied, turning toward the cabins. So smooth. Honestly, my teenage brain was something else.

"Bro, you're not getting out of this," Kai called, already paddling toward the floating platform. "Even the camp counselor's doing it, and he's literally allergic to fun."

The camp counselor—a guy named Bear because apparently his last name was Stevens (get it? Bare Stevens? Actually, no one called him that but me, in my head)—waded into the water like it was his personal mission to make everything awkward.

I took a breath and jumped.

The water hit me like ice. My hair went full SpongeBob, my makeup probably washed away to reveal my actual face, and I emerged sputtering like a drowned rat.

Jordan was right there, laughing. "Your hair!" he said, splashing me.

"Shut up!" I splashed back, but I was smiling. Actually smiling.

"It looks good," Jordan said, and then—because the universe has a sick sense of timing—added, "Better than when you try too hard."

Ouch. But also... kinda real?

Bear waded over. "Alright everyone, last one to the platform has to clean the mess hall tonight!"

We all raced, arms flailing, water everywhere. I came in dead last, obviously. But as I flopped onto the platform, hair wild, makeup gone, laughing so hard my sides hurt, Jordan sat next to me.

"Hey," he said, all casual like his heart wasn't probably pounding too. "Wanna get food after? Like, actual food, not camp mystery meat?"

"Only if you help me clean the mess hall," I said.

"Deal."

Sometimes the best moments happen when your hair is wrecked and you're soaking wet and your carefully curated aesthetic is literally down the drain. Who knew?