Orange Soda Summer

Maya stared at the **orange** Fanta swirling in her glass, the condensation dripping onto her denim shorts. The community pool buzzed with energy — kids screaming off the diving board, the sharp smell of chlorine mixing with sunscreen. Three weeks into summer vacation, and she still felt like the new kid. Again.

That's when Jenna appeared, dripping wet and grinning like she'd known Maya forever. "You're Maya, right? From Mr. Harrison's English class?"

Maya nodded, surprised anyone remembered.

"I sat behind you. You drew that sick dragon in your notebook during the poetry unit." Jenna dropped her towel onto the chair next to Maya. "I'm Jenna, by the way. Potential **friend**, if you're interested."

The word hung there — casual, confident. Maya's stomach did that thing it did when someone actually noticed her.

Two hours later, they were floating in the deep end, legs dangling in the cool **water**, discussing the important stuff: which eighth graders were dating, why the school cafeteria pizza tasted like cardboard, and how Jenna had accidentally dyed her hair green last summer trying to go blonde.

"My mom literally cried," Jenna laughed, treading water. "She was like, 'That's not what Pinterest promised.'"

Then Jenna's face fell. She splashed toward the pool edge. "My phone. I left it on the chair."

It was gone. They scrambled to find it, towels flying, panic rising. But when they finally spotted it under the snack bar table, relief washed over them both. The charging **cable** was tangled around the chair leg, like the phone had tried to escape.

"Your lock screen," Maya said, handing it back. "That picture of the sunset."

Jenna smiled, something softer this time. "My grandma took it. Before she moved away."

They sat on the pool edge, feet in the water, sharing the rest of the orange soda while Jenna explained how to take good photos. Maya listened, realizing she'd found something real in this new place. Something that wasn't just about being the new kid or fitting in or any of the stuff that kept her up at night.

Just a friend. And a really good orange soda. And the feeling that maybe, just maybe, this summer might turn out okay after all.