Laps and Likes

Maya's iPhone buzzed with another notification from the group chat. *Pool party @ Kayla's Saturday. Everyone's going.* She stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Swimming meant swimsuits. Swimsuits meant exposing the thighs she'd been trying to hide since seventh grade.

"You coming?" her mom called from downstairs. "Practice starts in twenty!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Maya grabbed her gym bag. Another secret—she'd joined the swim team three weeks ago and hadn't told anyone. Not even her best friends. Because what if they laughed? What if they saw how her stomach jiggled in a competition suit?

Practice was brutal. Coach Reynolds had them running laps around the pool deck before they even touched the water. "Builds endurance!" he'd yell, all enthusiastic, while Maya's lungs burned and her legs felt like jelly.

But then came the water. The moment she dove in, everything else disappeared. No Facebook comments, no Instagram models, no boys who'd never notice her. Just her arms pulling, legs kicking, the rhythm of something she was actually GOOD at.

Thursday, someone tagged her in a photo. *Swimming Saturday!*

Her fingers moved before she could overthink it. *Can't. Meet.* Which was sort of true—she had a swim meet that afternoon. Her heart raced as she typed. What if they asked where? What if they wanted to come watch?

Saturday morning, Maya stood behind the starting blocks, stomach in knots. Her phone buzzed in her bag—*Good luck!* from a teammate she'd barely talked to. Then another. And another.

She won her heat. Not the whole thing, but she placed third in the 100 freestyle, and when she climbed out of the pool, gasping, her teammates were screaming her name.

Later, phone back in hand, she posted the photo someone had taken—mid-stroke, arms extended, face determined. No filter. No second-guessing.

The likes rolled in. But the notification that made her smile? *You're a BEAST!* from Kayla. *Join us next Saturday? Hot tub only. Promise.*

Maya grinned. Progress.