Poolside Panic

My palms were sweating so bad I could practically fill the pool. Not that I was getting in. No way.

"Yo, Marcus! Stop being a little chicken," Tyler yelled, splashing water from the deep end like he owned the place. Which, given his dad's Mercedes in the driveway and the literal pool in his backyard, he kind of did.

The problem wasn't the water. It was Jessica — standing there in that ridiculous flamingo inflatable, laughing at something Tyler's idiot friend said. My stomach did that awful flip thing it always did when she looked my way.

"I'm good," I called back, voice cracking. Smooth. "Just chilling."

"That's bull and you know it!" Jessica shouted back, paddling her flamingo toward the shallow end. "Everyone's swimming except you. Even Kevin's little sister."

Kevin's little sister was six and currently doing a surprisingly decent backstroke.

The truth? I'd never learned. My parents were terrified of water after some incident with a rip current in their twenties, so swimming lessons were never on the table. Which was fine until you moved to a town where having a pool party was basically a rite of passage.

Tyler climbed out, dripping wet, and stood way too close. "Bro, I bet you fifty bucks you won't jump in right now."

Behind him, Jessica was watching. Actually watching.

"Make it a hundred," I heard myself say.

What.

"Deal." Tyler grinned like he'd already won. "Palm up, let's see it."

I pressed my palm against his. His was wet. Mine was shaking.

The pool stretched out before me — blue tiles, shimmering surface, the smell of chlorine and expensive sunscreen. I thought about my parents' faces. About Tyler telling the whole school I'd punked out. About Jessica's flamingo drifting closer.

I jumped.

The shock of cold hit like a physical blow. Water rushed up my nose, my arms flailed stupidly, and for one terrifying second I was completely under. Then — feet touched bottom. I pushed off, breaking the surface, gasping.

"Holy crap, you actually did it!" Kevin's sister yelled.

I doggy-paddled to the edge, dignity completely gone, something else replacing it. I was doing it. Badly. But doing it.

Jessica paddled over, her flamingo bumping my shoulder. "So," she said, smiling like she knew something I didn't. "Want to learn for real? My mom teaches at the Y. We could go Saturday."

My heart did that flip thing again.

"Yeah," I said, wiping water from my eyes. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Tyler shouted something about owing him money, but I wasn't listening. Sometimes you have to jump in the deep end before you can learn to swim. Bull or not, this was exactly where I wanted to be.