Palms Sweating at the Edge

Maya's palms were sweating. Like, actually dripping, which was low-key embarrassing considering she was literally standing at the edge of Jake Henderson's pool, surrounded by half the sophomore class.

"You gonna jump or what?" called Chloe, who was definitely living her best life in a bikini that cost more than Maya's entire wardrobe.

The water glittered blue and perfect, mocking her. Maya wasn't a jump-first-ask-questions-later kind of person. She was an overthinker, a replanner, a consider-all-outcomes-then-still-panic person.

Then Jake Henderson himself — baseball cap backwards, smile that could cure terminal diseases — splashed up beside her.

"Yo, you good?"

Maya's brain short-circuited. This was it. This was the moment she became cool or died trying.

"Yeah," she squeaked. "Just. Thinking. About the water. Temperature."

Smooth. Really smooth.

Jake laughed, and it wasn't mean. It was... nice? "It's not that deep, Maya. You literally have nothing to worry about."

She glanced down at the pool. "That's objectively false. It's definitely deep."

He blinked. Then his face broke into this grin that made her stomach do something genuinely concerning.

"You're funny. I didn't know you were funny."

Before she could process the fact that Jake Henderson thought she was funny, someone screamed from across the pool. "JAKE! BASEBALL PRACTICE ISN'T GONNA WATCH ITSELF!"

He rolled his eyes. "My dad," he explained, then leaned in conspiratorially close. "Between us? I'd rather stay here and see if you're actually gonna jump."

Maya's heart was running a marathon. This was it. The moment. The crossover episode where her two worlds — invisible wallflower and potential cool kid — finally collided.

She looked at the water. Then at Jake's stupid perfect face. Then at her own hands.

"You know what?" Maya said. "I'm gonna do it."

"Yeah?" Jake raised an eyebrow. "What changed your mind?"

Maya closed her eyes for exactly one second. "Realized if I don't jump now, I never will."

She jumped.

The water rushed over her head, cool and shocking and absolutely terrifying. She came up sputtering, hair plastered to her face, dignity completely gone, but Jake was still there grinning like she'd just done something brave instead of just jumping in a pool.

"See?" he said. "Not that deep."

"Shut up," she said, but she was smiling.

Maya's palms were still sweating when she finally climbed out an hour later, hair a disaster, chlorined within an inch of her life, holding Jake's number in her phone like it was something precious.

Some jumps were worth taking.