Poolside Poetry

Marcus tugged his snapback lower, hoping it would somehow shield him from the fact that he was the only one not swimming. Tyler's end-of-summer party raged around him—water splashing, girls shrieking, Drake thumping from portable speakers. Marcus sat poolside, clutching a warm soda like it was a life preserver.

"Yo Marcus, you gonna just sit there looking like a total swimsuit model or actually get in?" Tyler called from the deep end, doing a cannonball that drenched everyone nearby.

Marcus forced a laugh. "Just chilling, man."

Chloe emerged from the water, droplets glistening on her brown skin. She shook out her curls like she was in a hair commercial, and Marcus's stomach did that thing it always did when she was nearby—that weird flip-flop sensation that was equal parts amazing and terrifying.

"I like your hat," she said, dripping onto the concrete beside him.

"Thanks." Marcus adjusted it self-consciously. "It's my lucky one."

"Lucky?" Chloe raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

Before he could answer, Jason appeared, shaking water from his ears like a golden retriever. "Bro, did I tell you about my uncle's lake house? Upstate, got a legit bear coming through the yard every morning. Huge, like straight-up grizzly. My dad almost got into a fight with it last summer."

"No cap?" someone asked.

"Deadass." Jason nodded solemnly. "Bear took a swipe at our trash cans. Dad went full Beast Mode on it."

Marcus caught Chloe's eye. She suppressed a smile. Jason's stories were always 90% bull, 10% whatever made him sound legendary. Last month his uncle owned a yacht. This week it was wrestling wildlife.

"You should come swimming," Chloe said, her voice dropping slightly. "Water's perfect."

Marcus's heart hammered against his ribs. The truth was, he couldn't really swim. Not properly. Just enough to not die, barely. At fifteen, it was pathetic—that thing you were supposed to learn as a kid, like riding a bike or tying your shoes. Admitting it felt like confessing he still believed in Santa.

"I'm good," he said.

Chloe studied him, really looked at him, like she was seeing something beyond his carefully constructed cool guy exterior. "You know, Jason's full of it. His dad's an accountant. They live in a subdivision. There's no bear."

Marcus let out a real laugh this time. "I figured."

"The water's not that deep," she said softly. "I can teach you. If you want."

Something shifted in Marcus's chest. The fear, the shame, the constant performing—they all seemed suddenly possible to release. He pulled off his hat, setting it on his towel.

"Yeah," he said. "I'd like that."

As she led him toward the shallow end, hand brushing against his, Marcus realized some things were scarier than deep water. Some things were worth the risk. And maybe—just maybe—he didn't need a lucky hat after all.