Lucky Cat at the Deep End

Maya stood at the edge of the community pool, clutching her swim cap like it was a magic talisman that could somehow make her invisible. The water sparkled with that irritating perfection that only exists in Instagram posts, and everywhere she looked, people were being effortlessly cool.

"You going in or what?"

Maya jumped. A girl with purple streaks in her hair was lounging on the pool ladder, looking simultaneously bored and intimidating.

"Just warming up," Maya lied, which was ridiculous because it was ninety degrees and she was sweating through her towel.

That's when she saw the cat.

A scrawny orange tabby had somehow slipped past the pool fence and was now perched regally on a deck chair, wearing what appeared to be a stolen children's sun hat - bright pink with a fluffy brim.

"Is that... a hat?" Purple-streak girl asked, cracking a smile.

"I think that's Mr. Whiskers from next door," Maya said, then immediately wanted to die. Mr. Whiskers? Really?

But the girl laughed. "No way. He's serving looks."

Before Maya could process that sentence, the cat stood up, stretched dramatically, and marched straight toward the pool with the determination of a creature on a mission. The hat wobbled precariously.

"Oh no—" Maya started.

The cat leaped.

Splash.

For one horrifying second, everything went silent. Then the cat erupted from the water like a furry orange demon, hat still somehow clinging to its head, swimming furiously toward the shallow end with a chaotic combination of rage and athleticism.

"WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING," someone screamed.

"GET IT," someone else yelled, and suddenly everyone was rushing toward the edge, pointing and laughing and pulling out phones, but not in a mean way—this was objectively the most exciting thing to happen at any pool party ever.

Maya forgot about her insecurities. She forgot about her stomach, her thighs, her fear of being seen. She dove into the water without thinking, swimming toward the chaotic orange creature who was currently doing laps like it was training for the Olympics.

"I got him!" Maya called out, grabbing the sopping wet cat who immediately went limp in her arms like a resigned drama queen. The pink hat slid off and floated away tragically.

She hauled herself out of the water, dripping and breathless, cat writhing in her grip, and everyone was cheering and someone handed her a towel and purple-streak girl was like "you're actually insane, I love it" and suddenly Maya wasn't the awkward new girl anymore.

She was the girl who saved the swimming cat.

"Nice hat," purple-streak girl said, gesturing to Maya's discarded swim cap.

Maya laughed, actual genuine laughter. "Yeah, well. Can't pull it off like Mr. Whiskers can."

And honestly? That was true. But she was learning she didn't have to.