Papaya at the Pool Party

The invitation sat on my desk like a grenade. Kayla's pool party. The social event of the summer. The one where everyone would be.

I hadn't gone swimming since sixth grade, back when my mom convinced me to join the swim team and I spent every practice hyperventilating at the edge of the pool. Now a sophomore in high school, I'd successfully avoided aquatic situations for four years.

"You're going," Maya said, stealing my phone. "I'm not letting you miss this because of some childhood trauma. Also, Kayla's cousin is going to be there."

"Which cousin?"

"The cute one from Colorado. Now PUT ON THE BATHING SUIT."

So there I was, standing at Kayla's backyard gate, wearing a hat I'd bought specifically to pull down over my eyes, clutching a bag of papaya slices my mom insisted I bring because "hostess gifts are important, honey."

The party was already in full swing. Music thumped. People splashed. I spotted Kayla's cousin immediately — tall, floppy hair, doing a cannonball that sent water cascading over everyone.

"Here." Maya shoved me toward a table. "Put the fruit down. You look like you're spying on everyone from under that hat."

"I'm not—"

"Yes you are. You do this thing where you observe instead of participate. It's your whole brand. But today we're changing that."

She grabbed my hand. Before I could protest, she'd pulled me toward the pool.

"No, Maya, please—"

"Either you jump in voluntarily or I will push you in a way that looks extremely uncool."

So I did it. I jumped. The water shocked my skin, and for a second I was underwater, muffled sounds all around me, weightless. Then I surfaced, spluttering, and someone laughed.

I blinked water from my eyes. Kayla's cousin was treading water nearby, grinning.

"Nice form," he said. "I'm Leo."

"Chloe," I managed, treading awkwardly.

"You want to play chicken fight? My partner bailed."

I looked at Maya, who was already nodding maniacally.

"Sure," I said. And something in my chest unclenched.

Later, when we were sitting on the edge of the pool eating papaya slices and Leo was making terrible jokes that made me laugh anyway, I realized my hat had fallen off somewhere. I didn't even care.

"Same time next week?" he asked.

"Absolutely."

Sometimes you have to jump into the deep end to find what you're looking for.