Poolside Panic Attack

Maya clutched her iPhone like a lifeline, screen lit up with absolutely zero notifications. Again. The party noises echoed across the backyard — splashing, laughter, someone's Bluetooth speaker blasting that song everyone pretended to hate but secretly loved.

"You coming in?" Jenna called from the pool, already dripping wet, her perfect skin glistening under the fairy lights strung up for the occasion.

"Yeah! Just gotta... take my vitamin first!" Maya's voice cracked slightly. Smooth. So smooth. She fished the gummy vitamin from her pocket like it was the most normal thing in the world to be popping supplements at a pool party. Her mom had shoved them at her that morning, going on about how stress depletes nutrients and Maya needed to support her immune system during "social intensity times." Whatever that meant.

The vitamin tasted like artificial strawberry and desperation.

Around her, people were doing that effortless thing where they looked good without trying. Tyler had his shirt off (of course he did), and Maya's brain chose that exact moment to remember every single awkward interaction she'd ever had with him since seventh grade.

"Hey!" A body dropped onto the lounge chair beside her. Tyler. Shirtless Tyler. "You okay over here? You look like you're calculating escape routes."

Maya's iPhone buzzed. Her heart did that stupid fluttery thing. Finally, a notification! She unlocked it and—

Instagram notification. Someone liked her post from three weeks ago.

"I'm good," she lied, then corrected herself. "Actually, no. I'm terrible at this whole..." She gestured vaguely at the party.

"The pool thing?"

"The everything thing."

Tyler nodded, like she'd just said something profound instead of pathetic. "I didn't learn to swim until last summer. Like, actually swim. Before that, I just... didn't. Too scared to look stupid."

Maya stared at him. Tyler, who literally looked like he'd been born doing perfect laps? "Really?"

"Really. It's terrifying out there." He stood up and offered his hand. "But it's better together?"

She hesitated. Then she set down her iPhone on the towel, screen up, just in case. And took his hand.

The water was freezing. The vitamin aftertaste in her mouth was weird. Tyler's hand was warm and slightly callused from whatever sport he played. And somehow, none of that mattered as much as the fact that she was actually doing it — she was swimming, at a party, not hiding behind her phone or making up excuses.

Later, soaking wet and shivering, she checked her iPhone. Three new messages.

From Tyler: "same time next weekend?"

Some vitamins really did make everything better. Even the fake ones.