Orange Skies at the Edge of Everything

The chlorine stung my eyes as I floated in the **pool**, watching Jessica and her perfect friends dominate the shallow end like they owned the water. Another Friday night, another feeling of being invisible.

"Yo, Marcus! You gonna lurk in the deep end all night?" Jake yelled, splashing water my way.

I shrugged. "Just vibing, man."

Inside, I felt like a **zombie** going through the motions—school, swim practice, homework, repeat. Senior year was supposed to be epic, but mostly it just felt exhausting.

Then Sarah slid in beside me, her hair wet and slicked back. She was the new girl, weird in that way that made everyone uncomfortable but also curious.

"They're loud," she said, nodding toward Jessica's crowd.

"That's the point. Being seen, being heard, all that."

She pulled something from her bag. A **dog**—well, a stuffed one, wearing a tiny hoodie. "This is Buster. He's my emotional support animal. Well, emotional support **dog**, technically."

I laughed. "You bring stuffed animals to pool parties? Bold strategy."

"Bold is just what they call weird when it works," she said, grinning. "Anyway, my mom says I need more **vitamin** D. Socializing. Sunshine. All that BS."

The **orange** sky was fading to purple as summer slipped away, and I realized something: I'd been so worried about fitting into Jessica's world that I hadn't even noticed this one forming right beside me.

"Hey," I said. "You want to get out of here? There's this diner—"

"Say less."

As we climbed out of the pool, I noticed Jessica watching us. For once, I didn't care what she thought.

Some zombies wake up. Some dogs are stuffed. Some vitamins come in unexpected forms. And sometimes, right when you think you're drowning in the deep end, someone throws you a lifeline you never saw coming.