Poolside Confessions

The chlorine smell hit me before I even pushed through the gate. 11 PM and the community pool was finally empty — just me, the water, and my embarrassing secret.

My phone buzzed. *Baseball tryouts tomorrow bro, you ready?* Marcus's text glowed in the darkness.

*Yeah*, I typed back. *Totally ready.*

Lie. I wasn't ready for baseball. I was barely ready to admit I was fifteen and couldn't swim properly. Which is why I'd been sneaking here every night that week, teaching myself to not look like a flailing idiot in the water.

"You're getting better," a voice said.

I nearly jumped out of my skin. Standing by the fence was a girl with wild orange hair — literal orange, like she'd doused it in Kool-Aid. A fox face, sharp and sly. I'd seen her around school. Riley something. She wore a hoodie that said *VITAMIN D DEFICIENCY CLUB*.

"You watching me?" I asked, grabbing my towel.

"Every night." She hopped the fence like it was nothing. "Your form's tragic, but you're determined. I respect that."

"Great. Now I can die of embarrassment with an audience."

She laughed, sitting on the edge and dangling her legs in. "I won't tell anyone you can't swim. Your secret's safe with me."

"What's it cost?"

"Teach me to throw a baseball."

I blinked. "You? You want ME to teach YOU baseball?"

"Is it that crazy?" She kicked water at me. "I like this guy on the team and I figure if I can talk baseball, maybe he'll notice me."

"Which guy?"

"Marcus."

I started laughing. I couldn't help it. "Marcus? He's been trying to get YOU to notice HIM for like, ever."

She froze. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah. He talks about you constantly. It's actually kind of gross."

Riley's face lit up like she'd just won the lottery. Then she narrowed her eyes. "You're not messing with me?"

"Scout's honor. Also, I literally just saw his text asking about tryouts tomorrow. Dude's obsessed with baseball."

"So I need to learn baseball terminology by tomorrow?"

"Or," I said, a plan forming, "you come to tryouts, pretend you're my friend, and when Marcus inevitably starts talking your ear off about the sport, you just nod and look interested. Works every time."

She grinned. And just like that, we made a deal. She'd help me with my pathetic swimming. I'd help her get the guy. And somewhere between the chlorine, the midnight confessions, and the sudden appearance of a real fox trotting along the fence line like it owned the place, I realized something.

Sometimes the most embarrassing stuff about you? That's the stuff that connects you to the people who actually matter. And my secret wasn't so secret anymore — but maybe that was the point all along.