Poolside Confessions

The varsity baseball team's annual pool party. Every fiber of my being screamed no, but Maya insisted. "You've been hiding in your room since the breakup," she said, dragging me toward the chaotic noise. "Time to rejoin the living, chica."

I clutched my solo cup like a lifeline, watching Jake—the guy I'd been lowkey crushing on since freshman year—perfect his cannonball into the deep end. Water exploded everywhere, drenching several girls who squealed and pretended to be mad. Jake surfaced, shaking water from his shaggy hair like a golden retriever, that easy smile making my stomach do gymnastics.

"Yo!" he yelled, pointing at me. "You coming in or what?"

Before I could decline, Maya shoved me. I hit the water awkwardly, surfacing sputtering while everyone laughed. But then Jake was there, treading water beside me, his hazel eyes unexpectedly serious.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked. "I know you didn't wanna come tonight."

I shrugged, water streaming from my eyelashes. "Maya's intervention. She thinks I'm depressed."

"The goldfish thing, right?" Jake said softly. "Heard about that. Sorry, truly."

I blinked. Goldfish—technically, it was a betta fish, but whatever. My ex had left Fishwick's bowl on my doorstep after everything, this weird passive-aggressive parting gift. I'd found him floating the next morning. It had been the final blow.

"I'm working on myself," I heard myself say. "Trying to figure out who I am without... without being someone's girlfriend."

Jake nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Heavy. But for what it's worth? I think you're pretty cool on your own."

A girl—Jessica, the shortstop with the perfect Instagram—swam over, draping herself over Jake's shoulder. "Babe, come play chicken with Tyler!"

I ducked underwater, letting the muffled sounds wash over me. When I surfaced, Jake was watching me again, something thoughtful in his expression. Something that made me wonder if maybe, just maybe, I was ready to swim again.