Poolside Lightning

I'd been spying on Leo's instagram stories for three weeks straight. Pathetic? Maybe. But when you're fifteen and the most gorgeous guy on the swim team has been posting cryptic lyrics about drowning in feelings, you pay attention.

Friday night's pool party at Chloe's house was supposed to be my chance. I spent forty-five minutes on my outfit, another twenty convincing my mom I didn't need a jacket, and approximately zero seconds preparing for what actually happened.

The party was in full swing when I arrived. Kids jumping off the diving board, someone's phone blasting music, that specific chaos of thirty teenagers trying to look cool while wet. I spotted Leo immediately – he was sitting alone on the pool edge, legs in the water, looking like a zombie who'd personally given up on existing.

My iphone buzzed. Another story from him: just a blurry picture of the pool water, captioned "under."

I walked over, heart doing that thing where it forgets how to heart properly.

"Hey," I said. Brilliant. Truly poetic.

He looked up, eyes red-rimmed. "Hey."

We sat there for a solid minute. The only sound was pool splashes and distant laughter.

"You okay?" I finally asked.

Leo let out this laugh that was more of a exhale. "My dad's making me move to Chicago. Swimming scholarship, everything. I found out yesterday."

Chicago. Eight hours away. The word hit me like actual physical force.

"That's... that sucks," I said, because what do you even say?

Then it happened – lightning split the sky, so bright it turned everything white for a second. A massive crack of thunder followed immediately. The pool lights flickered and died. Girls screamed. Someone yelled "THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE IS STARTING" and somehow that made everything funnier.

But in that darkness, Leo's hand found mine in the water. Just for a second. Electricity that had nothing to do with the storm.

"I'm glad you came tonight," he said quietly.

Then the backup generator kicked on. The pool lights came back. Everything was normal again. But something had changed. Something that had nothing to do with spying on instagram stories or zombie jokes or chicago.

Lightning strikes once, I thought. You have to be watching for it.

I squeezed his hand back before pulling away. "Yeah," I said. "Me too."