Poolside Ghosts

Mateo had been staring at the invitation for twenty minutes. Kyle's pool party. The one everyone would be at. The one he'd been dodging for three summers.

"You're going, right?" Jamie asked, not looking up from her phone. They'd been best friend since seventh grade, back when having matching lunchboxes was the height of commitment.

"Dude, I can't swim," Mateo said, for maybe the hundredth time. "It's gonna be embarrassing."

"So don't swim," she said, finally meeting his eyes. "Just show up. Vibes only. You gotta stop letting this control you."

His dog, Barnaby, nosed at his hand, probably sensing the anxiety rolling off him. Good old Barnaby. The only one who didn't know Mateo was terrified of water.

The party was exactly what he expected—loud music, too much sunscreen smell, Kyle showing off his new sound system. Everyone was already in the pool, splashing and screaming like they were nine instead of sixteen. Mateo stood by the fence, holding a cup he wasn't drinking.

"Yo, Mateo!" Kyle called from the deep end. "Get in here, the water's sick!"

He shook his head, kept smiling. "I'm good, just chilling."

"What, you scared?" someone yelled. The group laughed, but not meanly. They genuinely couldn't understand.

Then he saw Jamie standing by the pool's edge, pointing at something. "Hey, isn't that a goldfish?"

Everyone crowded around. Sure enough, a tiny orange goldfish was swimming near the surface, totally out of place, looking confused as hell.

"How'd that get there?" "That's so random." "Poor little dude."

Mateo found himself moving toward the pool before he could think about it. The goldfish was struggling against the filter's pull.

"Someone grab it!" Kyle said.

"I got it," Mateo said, and before he could panic, he was knee-deep in the shallow end, reaching for the plastic cup he'd abandoned. The water was cold against his skin, but he was already in it, already moving, cupping the tiny fish and transferring it to a bucket someone produced.

Everyone was cheering, but Mateo was just breathing. He'd done it. He'd gotten in the pool. And yeah, maybe it was only knee-deep, maybe it was for a goldfish, but Jamie was giving him that look—the one that said she knew exactly what this moment was.

"Wildcard," she said, bumping his shoulder with hers. "Never change."