Laps Around the Truth

The pool deck felt like a stage where I definitely didn't belong. Everyone else was tan and confident, doing cannonballs and diving contests like they'd been training for it their whole lives. Me? I was the cousin from the suburbs who hadn't been swimming since that embarrassing incident at the community pool in sixth grade where I'd somehow managed to get my shorts caught on the ladder.

'Stop being such a wuss, Maya!' my cousin Jace called out, splashing water at me. He was surrounded by his cool friends from football camp, shirtless and loud. 'Even the dog's in the water!'

Buster—Jace's Golden Retriever—was indeed paddling around happily, looking way more comfortable than I felt. I stood there in my one-piece that felt two sizes too small, clutching my towel like it was armor.

'Yeah Maya,' added Sarah, who had somehow managed to look perfect while wet. 'Don't let them see you sweat.' She laughed at her own joke. Everyone laughed. I felt my face burning.

My aunt appeared with a tray of burgers. 'I made extra! And there's spinach salad if you want something—'

'Nah, we're good,' Jace interrupted, grabbing three burgers. 'We don't eat rabbit food.' His friends snickered. I wanted to disappear.

Then Tyler, this quiet guy I'd barely noticed, swam over to the edge where I stood. 'You know what Jace is?'

I shrugged.

'A total bull,' Tyler said, lowering his voice. 'Last week he tried to act all tough when we went to the cable park for wakeboarding, then chickened out the second he saw the ramps. Said his ankle hurt.'

I blinked. Really?

'For real.' Tyler tilted his head toward the house. 'He's inside right now looking up wakeboarding videos on YouTube so he knows what to say next time.'

Something in my chest loosened. Jace wasn't confident. He was just loud.

'I don't know how to swim well,' I admitted quietly.

'Teach you?' Tyler offered. 'I did lessons forever because my mom's paranoid about drowning.' He shrugged like it was nothing.

So I got in. And Tyler taught me to float on my back and actually breathe and not panic when water went up my nose. We practiced for an hour while Jace was busy being fake-cool somewhere. By the time I got out, my arms were tired but my chest felt lighter.

Later, when Jace finally came back outside bragging about some wakeboarding video he'd apparently 'just remembered watching,' I caught Tyler's eye across the pool. He grinned.

I wasn't suddenly popular or confident or anything. But I'd learned something: the loudest person in the room wasn't always the one who had it figured out. And sometimes the scariest thing was just getting in the water.

Buster shook himself off next to me, spraying water everywhere. I laughed. Some things you just had to deal with.