Poolside Enlightenment

The chlorine stung my eyes as I floated in the **pool**, listening to Layla spin another story about her supposed legendary house party. "Bro, it was literally insane — cops showed up, everything."

I wanted to believe her. I really did. But watching her from underwater, her voice distorted and muffled, something felt off.

"That's **bull**, Layla," I said, surfacing and wiping water from my face. "Your Instagram was literally you watching Netflix all night."

She froze. The pool noodles stopped bobbing around her. "What?"

"I saw your story, Layla. 2 AM, alone, cheese puff dust on your chin. I'm not judging — I was doing homework — but why lie?"

Her face fell. "I don't know. I just... I wanted you guys to think I was interesting."

"You're already interesting," I said, treading water closer to her. "The real you is cooler than fake party girl Layla."

Just then, this random **cat** — a mangy orange tabby — appeared on the fence. It sat there watching us like some philosophical judge, as if cats weren't supposedly aloof. It started MEOWING dramatically at Layla.

"What?" she laughed. "You agree?"

The cat yowled again, then bolted when Marcus's little brother chased it with a super soaker.

We were laughing when everything went dark. The speakers cut. The outdoor lights died. The backyard plunged into twilight gloom.

"My **cable**," Marcus groaned. "I tripped over it when I grabbed chips."

Suddenly, we weren't performing anymore. No perfect Instagram vibes, no curated soundtrack. Just fifteen of us floating in the gathering dark, talking for real. About our parents divorcing, about feeling behind in school, about how we were all faking it.

I caught Layla's eye across the pool. She smiled — real this time. "Better," she mouthed.

The lights came back on ten minutes later. Something had changed though. We weren't trying so hard anymore.

Sometimes you need the darkness to see what's actually there.