Palm Sweats and Pool Regrets

Maya's palm was sweating so much she half-expected her phone to slide right out of her grip and into the pool. The sophomore spring splash. The social event of the season. And here she was, lurking against the back fence like she was part of the landscaping.

"You're not actually swimming, are you?" AJ appeared beside her, orange hair brighter than the sun, holding two cups of questionable-looking punch. "Because word on the feed is that Tyler's cousin peed in the shallow end yesterday."

"Gross," Maya wrinkled her nose, but her stomach was already doing backflips. Not from the pee comment—from the way Tyler kept glancing her way from across the pool. The same Tyler she'd been lowkey crushing on since seventh grade. The same Tyler currently surrounded by the popular crowd, looking annoyingly good in his swim trunks.

"Total bull," AJ scoffed, reading her mind. "He's been orbiting you all day. Just go over there."

"Easy for you to say," Maya muttered. "You're not the one who's been basically swimming through anxiety since seventh period."

"Then stop drowning and make a move." AJ shoved a cup into her hand. "Liquid courage. Or just punch. Either way, you're welcome."

Maya's palm tingled as Tyler actually started heading toward them. The universe was definitely messing with her. This was it—her moment, her chance, her absolute disaster waiting to happen.

"Hey," he said, water dripping from his hair. "You gonna stand there all day or actually jump in?"

The old Maya would've mumbled something and vanished. But new Maya, spring-break-confidence Maya, caught AJ's smirk and somehow found her voice.

"Only if you promise not to pee on me," she shot back.

Tyler's laugh was genuine and surprising and wonderful. "Deal." He held out his hand—actual, physical contact incoming—and Maya didn't even check if her palm was sweaty anymore. She just grabbed it and let him pull her toward the deep end, thinking maybe some risks were absolutely worth the potential awkwardness.