Lightning at the Pool Party

The text bubble on my screen kept glowing brighter: 'Pool party @ Maya's — bring a swimsuit and a plus one!' I'd been waiting for this invitation since seventh grade, and now it was finally happening. But there was one problem: I didn't have a friend to bring.

Maya's parents had already set up everything — the massive pool, the snacks, even some tropical fruit punch that I swear had papaya in it. (Who even eats papaya in Ohio?) I stood by the edge of the pool in my new swimsuit, feeling like I was wearing someone else's skin. Everyone else was paired up, laughing and splashing, while I was basically the human equivalent of a third wheel.

'Hey, you good?' I turned to see Jake, Maya's older brother, standing there with two cups of punch.

'Sure,' I lied. 'Just appreciating the tropical vibes.' I took the cup he offered and tried not to gag at the papaya aftertaste.

'You know what my little sister says about you?' Jake asked, leaning against the patio railing. 'She says you're the most loyal friend she's got. But you always look like you're bearing the weight of the world on your shoulders.'

I felt my face get hot. 'I'm not—'

'Lightning just struck somewhere nearby,' he said, cutting me off as the sky flashed white. 'You know what they say about lightning? It doesn't ask for permission. It just happens.' He looked at me then, really looked at me. 'Stop waiting for someone else to make the first move. You're the friend everyone wants but nobody knows because you're too busy watching from the sidelines.'

Something in his words hit me like actual lightning — this sudden, electric realization that I'd been the one holding myself back this whole time. I didn't need a plus one. I was already enough.

'Thanks,' I said, and actually meant it. I set down the papaya punch and cannonballed into the pool, surfacing to shouts and splashes from everyone else. For the first time all night, I wasn't watching. I was living it.