Lightning in the Deep End

Marcus wasn't supposed to be at the pool party. He definitely wasn't supposed to be hiding behind the storage shed, basically spying on Chloe and her friends like some total creep. But here he was, heart pounding harder than it ever did during swim practice, watching the popular kids splash around in the infinity pool like they owned the whole damn town.

The worst part? They'd invited him. Well, Chloe had. She'd caught him in the hallway last week and been like, "Hey, you should come to Jordan's thing on Saturday," and Marcus had nodded like a normal person instead of whatever this was — crouching behind a shed in cargo shorts that were way too long, trying to work up the nerve to actually walk through the gate.

"Bull," he muttered to himself. "That's such bull."

Because the real truth wasn't that he was nervous. It was that he knew exactly what would happen. He'd get there, and someone would make a joke about him being on the swim team, like that was his whole personality, and Chloe would smile her perfect smile and not actually say anything, and he'd spend two hours floating in the shallow end while they played their music and talked about people he didn't know.

And yeah, he'd seen her group chat notifications when he'd done that whole follow-her-on-Instagram thing like a month ago. He wasn't proud of it. But he'd seen who she really spent time with, and it wasn't people like Marcus.

Then lightning cracked across the sky — close enough that the hair on his arms actually stood up — and suddenly everyone in the pool was screaming and scrambling toward the house. A massive thunderclap followed immediately, shaking the ground.

Marcus flinched hard, backing into something solid.

"You gonna hide back here all night?"

He spun around. Chloe stood there, dripping wet in a oversized t-shirt, towels draped over her arm. She wasn't with her friends. She wasn't looking at him like he was weird.

"I..." Marcus started. "I was just—"

"Waiting for the right moment?" She raised an eyebrow. "Because that's such bull, Marcus. You're literally the fastest swimmer on the team, but you act like you can't handle a pool party."

lightning flashed again, illuminating her smirk.

"I'm not fast," he said automatically.

"You beat my ex-boyfriend in regionals," she said. "He's still salty about it." She held out a towel. "Come inside. Jordan's mom made those brownies you like. The ones with the sea salt."

Marcus stared at her. "You remember that?"

"Dude." Chloe rolled her eyes, but she was smiling for real now. "I've been trying to get you to actually talk to me since freshman year. You're the one who's always swimming away like I'm gonna bite."

The rain started pouring down, warm and heavy, and Marcus realized something: he hadn't been swimming away from her. He'd been swimming away from himself, from the possibility that maybe — just maybe — he didn't have to be the quiet swim kid who hid behind sheds and watched people live their lives.

"Okay," he said, taking the towel. "But if they start asking about my best times, I'm jumping in the pool."

"Deal." She nudged his shoulder. "Race you there."