Poolside Lightning
The chlorine smell hit me before I even saw the pool. I shouldn't have come to Jordan's party—I'd been ghosting his squad since the incident last month. But here I was, standing awkwardly by the gate while kids from school cannonballed into the water, their laughter floating through the humid July air.
"Yo, Marcus!" Jordan called from the diving board. "Get in here, bro!"
I fake-smiled and gave a weak thumbs up. My phone buzzed—Tia. "where r u?? outside waiting :("
Tia. My actual best friend since fourth grade, the one who'd stuck by me when Jordan and his toxic friend group dropped me like a bad habit. She was waiting in her mom's car because she didn't want to crash the party alone.
I sprinted to the driveway, heart pounding. Tia rolled down the window, blasting our favorite playlist.
"Finally!" She grinned. "I saw you doing that awkward hover thing by the snacks."
"Shut up," I laughed, but relief washed over me. "Let's get out of here."
We grabbed milkshakes and parked by the community pool, watching the sky darken. First flash of lightning streaked across the horizon—purple and electric, like something alive.
"Remember when we tried to swim here during a storm?" Tia asked, sipping her shake.
"And the lifeguard literally screamed at us?" I cracked up. "We were so dumb."
"We were eleven," she said. "But, like, bravely dumb."
The rain started, gentle at first, then pouring. We sat there, windshield wipers going crazy, listening to the thunder.
"I've been trying to fit in with Jordan's crowd again," I admitted suddenly. "But honestly? I'd rather be dumb with you."
Tia smiled. "I'd rather be smart with you. Also, you left your phone at Jordan's."
"WHAT."
We sped back through the downpour, lightning flashing like a strobe light. Jordan was still partying when I messily retrieved my phone from the kitchen counter. He high-fived me like nothing had changed.
But everything had. I left without looking back, jumping into Tia's car, soaking wet and laughing hysterically. The storm raged around us, but I'd never felt more grounded.