Poolside Panic

The invitation sat on my nightstand for three days before I worked up the nerve to RSVP. Jason's pool party. The guy I'd been lowkey crushing on since seventh grade, and suddenly I'm invited to his summer bash? My sweaty palms were practically leaking anxiety just thinking about it.

"You're going, right?" Maya demanded, sprawled across my bed while I applied my third layer of waterproof mascara. "It's gonna be epic. His family's pool is literally the size of a lake."

I nodded, unable to form actual words. The truth was, I barely knew anyone outside our friend group, and the idea of showing up in a swimsuit—like, actually exposing myself to judgment—made me want to throw up.

When we arrived, the backyard was already packed. Music thumped from somewhere near the cabana, and I could smell coconut sunscreen and chlorine. People were playing padel on the court near the fence, laughing and shouting like they'd known each other forever.

"There he is," Maya whispered, nudging me.

Jason. Of course he looked perfect, towel-dried hair and that effortless smile that made my brain short-circuit. He waved at us from the edge of the pool, where—seriously?—someone had released actual goldfish into the water. They darted around his legs like orange specks of confetti.

"Who put fish in the pool?" I heard someone laugh.

"Tradition!" Jason grinned. "Every summer. They're actually having the time of their lives in there."

I stood there, frozen, while Maya dove straight into conversation with some girls from our math class. My heart hammered like I'd just sprinted a marathon. This was it. The moment I either became someone who did things or someone who watched from the sidelines.

Jason swam over, treading water near where I stood clutching my towel like a security blanket.

"You coming in?" he asked, droplets sliding down his ridiculous cheekbones.

I thought about the goldfish, how they'd just jumped into the unknown and ended up having the time of their lives. I thought about how much I wanted to be the kind of person who didn't overthink everything.

"Yeah," I said, dropping my towel on the nearest lounge chair. "Yeah, I'm coming in."

And just like that, I wasn't watching anymore. I was in the pool, treading water beside Jason, laughing as he tried to catch the goldfish with his bare hands. My palms weren't sweaty anymore—they were wet, and I was exactly where I wanted to be.