Poolside Panic

Marcus stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, picking spinach out of his teeth for the third time. The pool party at Jessica's house was his shot—finally, a chance to talk to her outside of chemistry class, where she always sat two rows ahead and somehow still smelled like coconut shampoo.

"You good, bro?" his best friend Ty called from outside. "Everyone's already in the pool."

Marcus grabbed his iPhone off the counter, thumbs hovering over the unread DM from Jessica that had been sitting there since Thursday: *party @ mine!! u coming?? 🏊‍♀️*

He'd typed and deleted like seventeen responses. *Yeah!* *maybe!* *count on it!* *absolutely!* Pathetic.

"Coming!" Marcus shouted, shoving his phone in his pocket. His heart did that stupid fluttery thing whenever he thought about actually talking to Jessica. Real words, not just awkward nods in the hallway.

Outside, the pool area was already packed. There was a giant inflatable bear floating in the deep end—some ridiculous thing Jessica's younger sister had begged for, now commandeered by the popular kids. Of course.

And there she was. Jessica, laughing at something Jake had said, water droplets glistening on her arms. Jake, whose hair somehow looked perfect wet. Jake, who'd probably never had spinach stuck in his braces for three hours in seventh grade, earning him the nickname Spinach King that haunted him through middle school.

Marcus hesitated at the edge of the pool. The social dynamics here were a minefield he wasn't equipped to navigate.

Then Jessica waved. Actually waved. At him.

"Marcus! Get in here!"

He didn't think. He just jumped.

The shock of cold water knocked the air out of him, and when he surfaced, spluttering, everyone was laughing—but not at him. With him. Jessica paddled over on a neon pink floaty.

"About time," she said, smiling. "I was starting to think you weren't coming."

Marcus realized his iPhone was still in his pocket, soaking wet, and he didn't even care. Some things were more important than notifications.

"Wouldn't miss it," he said, and for the first time all night, his smile was genuine—no spinach required.