Poolside Bull

Marcus's hands shook as he gripped the fence surrounding the Thompsons' backyard. Below, the **pool** glittered like something expensive and forbidden—chlorine-blue under July's unforgiving sun. Anyone else would've been stoked. A whole summer of pool parties, no parents, freedom. But Marcus? His stomach twisted into knots.

"You coming in or what?" called Jenna from the shallow end, her laugh cutting through the humidity. She was the reason he was even here. The reason he'd spent forty-five minutes psyching himself up in the bathroom, practicing casual lines in the mirror.

Marcus swallowed hard. The water. Just looking at it made something tighten in his chest. Ever since that day at Lakeview Beach last summer—when he'd gone under, lungs burning, world fading to murky green—he hadn't been able to make himself get back in. Not even to wash off the shame of being rescued by his little sister.

"Maybe in a bit," he managed, though his voice cracked.

Ty, this senior who somehow still acted like he was twelve, snorted. "What's the matter, Martinez? Scared of a little water?" He cannonballed in, sending a wave of chlorine sloshing over the deck. "Don't be such a **bull** about it."

The group laughed. Jenna didn't.

Marcus's face burned. Here it was again—the moment where he could either lean into the coward role everyone expected, or...

Or what?

His phone buzzed. His dad: Hope everything's going well at the party! Remember: we don't back down from challenges. That stubborn bull-headedness runs in the family 😉

Marcus stared at the message. His dad, who worked with actual bulls at the ranch, who faced down thousand-pound animals with nothing but calm confidence. Who'd taught Marcus that being scared wasn't weakness—but letting fear win was.

He looked at Jenna. She wasn't laughing like the others. She was watching him, quiet, like she was actually waiting for his answer. Not because she wanted to see him fail, but because...

Because she wanted him to be there. Really there.

The water still terrified him. His heart hammered against his ribs like it was trying to escape. But suddenly, not trying felt worse than failing.

Marcus kicked off his flip-flops.

"Watch this," he said, and before his brain could talk him out of it, he jumped.

The shock of cold **water** stole his breath. For a heartbeat, he was six years old again, struggling in Lakeview's murk. But then his feet hit bottom. He pushed up, breaking the surface, gasping.

Everyone stared.

Then Jenna splashed him.

"Finally," she grinned, and something in Marcus's chest loosened for the first time in a year. "Took you long enough."