Pool Party Pariah

The invitation sat on my dresser for two weeks before I worked up the courage to RSVP yes. Now here I was, standing in Maya's backyard with thirty other juniors, everyone already in the pool while I clutched my towel like a lifeline.

"You coming in or what?" Jake called, splashing water toward my feet. His cat-eyed grin made my stomach do that annoying fluttery thing.

"Yeah, just warming up," I lied, rubbing my arms. I'd never told anyone I couldn't swim. At sixteen, it felt like the world's most shameful secret.

That's when I saw it — a tiny orange tabby kitten perched on the pool fence, watching us like we were the most fascinating species it had ever encountered. It let out this determined meow and hopped onto the diving board, wobbling like it'd had one too many catnip treats.

"Whoa," Maya said. "Where did that cat come from?"

The cat crept toward the edge of the board, tail twitching, and then it slipped — paws flailing as it tumbled toward the water.

I didn't think. I just moved. Dropped my towel and dove in, arms windmilling, completely forgetting I was supposed to be hydrophobic. My hands hit the water first, then my whole body plunged beneath the surface. The world went muffled and blue.

Something soft brushed against my hand. I grabbed it and kicked upward, breaking the surface with a gasp. The kitten was in my arms, wet and indignant but alive. The whole pool had gone silent.

"Dude," Jake breathed, paddling closer. "That was actually clutch."

The cat shook itself off like a wet dog, spraying orange droplets everywhere. I looked down at my soaked clothes and realized something important: I'd just swum. Maybe not gracefully, but I'd done it anyway.

"His name is Nacho now," I announced, handing the kitten to Maya. "And I'm going in again."

Jake grinned. "Race you to the other end."

"You're on."

Maybe it took a cat falling into a pool to get me to jump in too. Whatever. I'd take the win.