Lightning by the Pool

The pool deck was empty except for me and Leo, my oldest friend, who was currently failing spectacularly at a cannonball contest. Against himself.

"Bro, that was tragic," I said, scrolling through my phone. "Even TikTok would be disappointed."

Leo surfaced, spluttering. "Whatever. At least I didn't post that thirst trap you sent at 2 AM last night."

I threw my towel at him. It wasn't even thirst — just boredom. Summer after junior year was dragging like a dial-up connection. Everyone else was at camp or working or doing actual things with their lives, while I was stuck working the pool concession stand.

The pool's giant inflatable sphinx floated by, its painted eyes judging us. The recreation committee had picked "Egyptian Mysteries" as this summer's theme. Because nothing says swimming like riddles and ancient curses.

"Sasha's hanging out with Tyler again," Leo said suddenly, treading water.

My stomach did that thing. "And?"

"And he's a total bull. He literally tried to fight someone at graduation because they looked at his girlfriend 'wrong.'"

"Sasha can handle herself," I said, but the words tasted like the pool's chlorine — sharp and artificial. She'd been my best friend since seventh grade, until Tyler happened this spring. Now I was seeing her through Instagram stories like everyone else.

Lightning cracked across the sky, sudden and blindingly purple. The lifeguards started blowing their whistles, herding everyone out.

"We should go," I said, grabbing my stuff.

"Wait." Leo pulled himself out of the water, dripping and serious. "The sphinx has a riddle."

"What?"

"The announcement said they put riddles on the inflatables. If you solve it, you get free snowballs for a week." He squinted at the sphinx's base. "'I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I live with fear.'"

Thunder rumbled closer.

"An echo?" I guessed.

"Wind."

"Nobody likes you."

But then I heard it — my phone buzzing. Sasha. My heart did that stupid thing again. The message wasn't about Tyler. It was a screenshot of my so-called thirst trap with a caption: "I miss this version of us."

The rain started, cold and sudden against my skin.

"What's it say?" Leo asked.

I grinned at him, then at the ridiculous sphinx. "Echo, you idiot."

The world felt loud and new. Maybe this summer wasn't a dead end after all.