Pool Party Confidential

My cousin Marcus said I was basically a professional spy at this point, but honestly? I was just a fourteen-year-old hiding behind a fake potted plant, watching Jake Henderson from across the deck. The plant was plastic. The situation was tragic.

I'd spent the first hour of Lila's party adjusting my stupid bucket hat—why did I think bucket hats were coming back?—and pretending to check my phone while everyone else splashed in the pool like they didn't have a care in the world. Freshman year had been three months of invisible girl energy, and Lila's massive pool party was supposed to be my rebranding moment. Instead, I was skulking.

"You're blocking the slide," said a voice.

I jumped. Jake Henderson. Wet hair. Chlorite smelling like expensive everything. He was grinning like he knew exactly how long I'd been standing there judging my own life choices.

"I wasn't—" I started.

"You're totally allowed to just stand there," he said. "I did it last year. At Maya's party? Hid by the snack table for forty-five minutes before anyone even noticed I existed."

Something in my chest loosened. Jake Henderson, who had four hundred followers and played varsity soccer, had also been That Guy?

"That's miserable," I said.

"Right?" He laughed, and it was this real sound, not performative. "Anyway, I was gonna say—you can come in if you want. The water's actually perfect. Not too cold, not weirdly warm. Just solid water temperature."

"I didn't bring a—"

"Lila has extra suits. She literally prepared for people like us. The ones who show up and immediately regret everything."

Ten minutes later, I'm cannonballing into the deep end while Marcus—my ride, also my favorite cousin—cheers from the hot tub like I just won Olympic gold. My bucket hat is sitting safely on a lounge chair. My hair is going to be chaos. But for the first time since August, I'm not running from myself.

Later, Jake would text me a terrible meme about freshman survival. We'd hang out by the snack table at homecoming, hiding together on purpose. But in that moment, surfacing from the water with chlorine in my eyes, I finally understood something nobody had told me about high school: the friends you want are usually the ones who see you hiding and decide to hide with you.