Poolside Prophecies

The heat wave had turned everything into shimmering asphalt and sweating sodas, but here in the shadow of the palm tree, everything felt different.

"You're going to meet someone important," Jade said, tracing the lines on my hand with fake seriousness. "Like, literally important. Not just 'prom date' important."

I pulled my hand back. "You literally read this off TikTok yesterday."

Jade grinned, lips stained cherry-red from her slushie. "You're just mad because I'm right. Remember when I predicted Alex would cheat on Maya? Bam. Two weeks later."

"That wasn't palm reading. That was you literally watching him DM someone else at lunch."

We were sitting poolside at Maya's birthday party—the kind with too many soda cans and people pretending they weren't checking who was watching. The water looked stupidly inviting, but I wasn't about to be the first one in. That was, like, social suicide.

"Whatever," Jade said, grabbing her phone. "The point is, your lifeline is weirdly long. You're gonna do something crazy this summer."

"I'm literally grounded."

"That's the perfect setup for something." She wiggled her eyebrows. "Maybe you'll finally talk to him."

She pointed across the pool where Ryan stood, laughing way too loud at something someone said. His hair was doing that thing where it looked like he'd tried but also pretended he hadn't. I hated that I noticed.

"No," I said, way too fast.

"That's what your palm says, though."

"My palm cannot talk."

"Metaphorically, genius." She leaned in closer. "So what's the deal with you two anyway?"

"There is no deal. We're just..." I waved my hand, trying to find the right word. "Friends-ish. We had that one conversation in AP Bio that one time."

"Bull," she said simply. "I see how he looks at you."

My face did something terrible. "He does not—"

"Someone's gotta be the first one in the pool, you know," she said, suddenly weirdly serious. "Someone's gotta take the plunge. Otherwise everyone just stands around pretending they're not roasting in their clothes."

I looked at the water. Then back at Ryan.

"I hate it when you're right about stuff."

"That's literally my job as your best friend." She stood up, brushing grass off her shorts. "Also, you should probably do it now before someone else cannonballs and creates, like, a tsunami situation."

"You're not coming?"

"Someone has to document this for the group chat," she said, already recording. "Go. Before you overthink it."

So I walked to the edge of the pool. My heart was doing something embarrassing. I thought about what Jade said—about lifelines and prophecies and taking the first plunge.

Then I jumped.

The shock of cold water knocked the air out of me, and when I surfaced, sputtering and completely drenched, half the party was staring. But Ryan was laughing—genuinely laughing, not performative at all. He cannonballed in right next to me.

"Took you long enough," he said.

Later, Jade would claim she predicted the whole thing. And maybe she did. But honestly? That summer was the first time I stopped waiting for someone else to make the first move.

Sometimes you gotta take the plunge—even if you're not sure what's at the bottom.