Poolside Panic

The first thing you notice at Jordan's pool party is how everyone moves in synchronized chaos—like they all got a memo I missed. My flip-flops slap against the concrete too loud. My best friend Kai texted me ten minutes ago: *bro just show up,* and now here I am, clutching a nearly dead iPhone against my chest like it's some kind of emotional support animal.

The pool glows blue and artificial beneath fairy lights strung across the backyard. People cannonball in slow motion. I recognize half the faces from school but have literally never spoken to them. Social anxiety hits different when your brain decides every conversation is a boss battle you're under-leveled for.

"Yo, Marcus!" Jordan waves from the deep end. "Get in here!"

I fake a smile. "Yeah, one sec!"

Retreat strategy: pretend my phone's important. Dive into notifications like they're actual responsibilities. But reality crashes in—0% charge. That familiar black screen of doom. And then the real panic sets in: I didn't bring a charging cable. Because who brings cables to a pool party?

Someone taps my shoulder. It's Maya from AP Bio. She's in this swimsuit that makes everything suddenly feel extremely not-casual. Her hair's wet, chlorine-smelling, perfect.

"You okay?" she asks. "You've been staring at a black screen for like five minutes."

Heat crawls up my neck. Because of course she noticed. Because she's Maya and she notices everything and I'm just some guy who forgot his charger.

"Yeah, just," I gesture vaguely, "phone died."

She laughs—not mean, just genuine. "Same. Mine's been dead since Friday. I think it's kind of freeing, honestly? No one's expecting anything."

Something clicks into place. The word *friend* floats through my head, unexpected. Like maybe this isn't some terrifying social situation I have to survive. Maybe it's just people hanging out.

"You wanna get in?" Maya gestures toward the pool. "Jordan's gonna do a belly flop contest. It's hilarious."

My iPhone sits uselessly on the patio table. A shiny dead brick that controlled my entire evening five minutes ago.

"Yeah," I say, and it's not fake this time. "Yeah, I'm in."

Sometimes the best connection happens when you're finally disconnected.