Pool Party Secrets

The chlorine hit my nose before I even saw it—Marcus Chen's above-ground pool, shimmering like an oversized jewel in his backyard. My best friend Sasha squeezed my arm. "You've got this, Ro. Just... don't be a total bull in a china shop, okay?"

I rolled my eyes but appreciated the sentiment. My social skills were basically nonexistent, and everyone at Crestwood High knew it. That's why Sasha had made it her mission to transform me this summer, starting with Marcus's legendary end-of-year party.

"He's watching you," Sasha whispered, nodding toward the pool deck. "Don't look. Don't you dare look."

Naturally, I looked.

There he was—Ethan Torres, leaning against the picnic table in those ridiculously well-fitting swim trunks, a soda dangling from his fingers. Sasha called him a fox. I called him the reason my grades had dropped fifteen percent last semester. We'd been paired up for that disastrous chemistry project, and I'd spent six weeks hyperventilating every time our elbows accidentally touched.

"I'm gonna do it," I said, my heart doing jumping jacks.

"Spy on him from behind the snack table?" Sasha deadpanned. "Real smooth, Romeo."

I flipped her off and started toward the pool, my flip-flops making that annoying schlop-schlop sound against the concrete. I'd almost made it to the chips when someone's shoulder slammed into mine—hard.

"Watch it, freak."

Bryce. The Bryce. Captain of everything, owner of zero empathy, and the reason I ate lunch in the library last year.

Before I could even process being body-checked into the 21st century, Marcus appeared between us, dripping wet from the pool.

"Back off, Bryce. Seriously."

Bryce actually laughed. "Since when did you become captain of the losers?"

"Since being a dick stopped being cool." Marcus's voice dropped. "You got a problem with Rory, you take it up with me."

The music seemed to get louder. People were watching. Bryce's face did that thing where he clearly wanted to say something but couldn't find the words that wouldn't make him look like the actual worst.

"Whatever." Bryce stormed off toward the beer keg like he had somewhere better to be.

Marcus turned to me, water dripping from his hair onto his shoulders. "You okay?"

I nodded, unable to form actual syllables.

"Hey, Ethan," Marcus called over my shoulder. "Think you could show Rory where the extra towels are? I think she needs to dry off."

I spun around. Ethan was already walking toward us, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah. Sure."

Sasha caught my eye from across the yard and gave me a thumbs-up so dramatic it was visible from space.

"You coming?" Ethan asked.

"Yeah," I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, I'm coming."

As we walked away from the pool, I could feel Sasha's mental victory dance from across the yard. Bull in a china shop? Maybe. But even bulls eventually learn where to step.