Pool Party Recon

The hat was my security blanket—a backwards snapback that said 'cool' better than I ever could. I pulled it lower as I surveyed Lily's pool party from behind the lounge chair, feeling like the world's worst spy. Who wears jeans to a pool party? Me. Obviously.

My golden retriever, Buster, waited by the fence, giving me those sad puppy eyes that said *you're really doing this alone?* I'd left him home but could practically feel his judgment anyway.

"You coming in?" Lily called out, floating in the shallow end with her friends. They were all effortless in their swimsuits, while I stood there fully dressed like a chaperone who'd lost their delegation.

"Maybe later!" I lied. My heart was already swimming somewhere in my throat.

That's when I saw HIM—Jake Miller, walking toward the diving board with that casual swagger that made my stomach do backflips. He was everything I wasn't: confident, athletic, and apparently immune to social anxiety. I'd been lowkey spying on his Instagram stories for weeks, careful never to accidentally like anything from 2019.

A distant rumble made everyone look up. Storm clouds had gathered while I'd been busy being awkward.

"Lightning!" someone screamed, and suddenly the pool area transformed into chaos. People grabbed towels and scattered toward the house.

I stood frozen, caught between the fence and the mass exodus. Then Jake Miller—THE Jake Miller—stopped beside me.

"You're not gonna run?" he asked, grinning.

"Too slow," I managed.

"Same." He leaned against the fence next to me. "I hate these things anyway. Everyone acting all chill when they're actually stressed about impressing each other."

I stared at him. "Wait, YOU get stressed?"

"Bro, I almost threw up before coming here." He laughed, and it was genuine—not the fake laugh I'd seen him use at school. "Your dog's awesome, by the way. I saw him earlier."

"Buster? He's at home. But thanks."

"Cool." Rain started coming down, gentle at first. "You wanna run for it or own this moment?"

I thought about the hat—my shield against the world. Then I took it off.

"Own it," I said.

We stood there getting absolutely soaked as lightning cracked across the sky, and for the first time all night, I wasn't spying on life from the sidelines. I was living it.