Poolside Protocol

Marcus stood at the edge of the diving board, chlorine stinging his nose, toes curling against the rough surface. The popular kids were already in the water, their laughter bouncing off the chain-link fence like they owned the whole damn place.

"Yo, Marcus! You gonna jump or what?" called Tyler, the varsity baseball captain whose Instagram stories were basically a documentary of How To Be Cool 101.

Marcus's stomach did that familiar flutter-thud thing. Three weeks ago, Tyler had barely known his name. Now they were here because Marcus's mom had forced him to accept the invitation to Tyler's end-of-school pool party, and somehow "it'll be good for you to make new friends, honey" had turned into Marcus standing on a diving board in board shorts that felt two sizes too small.

The truth was, Marcus didn't do swimming. He didn't do baseball either, which was apparently the currency of social capital at Northwood High, and he definitely didn't do pool parties where everyone was half-naked and confident and knew exactly where they fit in the universe.

"I'm good," Marcus mumbled, stepping back from the board.

Someone splashed water directly at his face—Tyler, obviously. The group erupted into laughter. Not the mean kind, but the we're-all-in-on-the-joke kind that Marcus was definitely not part of.

He was reaching for a towel when he noticed something through the fence. A guy in a cable company uniform was working on the junction box, moving weirdly methodical, checking his phone every few seconds, taking photos of something inside—

"Looking for something?" A girl appeared beside him. Chloe, the quiet sophomore from his English class who sat in the back wearing oversized hoodies and read books that weren't on the syllabus. Her hair was wet, dripping onto her shoulders.

Marcus jumped. "Just—watching. That cable guy's acting kinda like a spy or something."

Chloe squinted through the fence, then burst out laughing. "Bro, that's literally my uncle. He's just trying to fix the internet so Tyler can stream his baseball highlights without buffering."

Marcus felt his face burn hot enough to evaporate the pool water on his skin. Of course. Of course it wasn't anything mysterious. He was just overthinking again, making everything more complicated than it actually was, seeing patterns where there weren't any—

"Whatever," Chloe said, but she was smiling a little. "You coming back in? The water's actually not that deep once you stop staring at it like it's gonna attack you."

She dove in without waiting for an answer, smooth and effortless.

Marcus stood there for a second. Chlorine stung his nose. Tyler and his friends were still laughing from the deep end, something about a campout gone wrong. Chloe surfaced near the lane ropes, shaking water from her hair like she didn't care what anyone thought.

Through the fence, the cable guy gave him a thumbs-up.

Marcus took a breath and jumped.

The shock of cold water knocked the air out of him, and for a second, he wasn't the awkward kid who couldn't play baseball or the new guy trying too hard. He was just another person in the pool, treading water, figuring it out as he went.